Blonde Venus: Mixed Messages Behind the Final Ending

One of the issues I had with with the ending of Blonde Venus portrays is that the subversion of economic status that Lea Jacobs brought up in her article carries some unfortunate implications that prevent Helen’s actions from being an entirely positive display of strong, independent femininity. Jacobs implies Helen’s decision to stay as one that is ultimately the best of the possible endings, partially because it goes against “[conformity] to a general trajectory of class rise that was conventionalized and extremely popular in this period.” (24)

However, I see Helen’s decision to remain with Ned at the end to be one that’s simultaneously baffling and contradictory to the film’s own visual language. In the scene wherein Ned confronts Helen about her affair, his face is cast entirely in shadow by the brim of his hat and Helen is, contrastingly, placed in a bright light. Despite what Jacobs says about the “[surmising] that the studio” are the ones who find “Ned’s harshness toward his wife unsympathetic,” the creative direction behind the film itself is pushing the viewer towards that same conclusion (24). This perspective isn’t as unfounded as Jacobs makes it out to be; rather, it’s quite actively suggested within the text of the film.

It’s that single instance in which Ned is demonized (versus the overall neutral stance the film takes in portraying Nick) that makes the ending particularly uncomfortable for me. I have a variant on the studio’s ending in mind that I’d actually prefer over any of the three endings written: Helen returns home to see Johnny once more but realizes that she cannot stay with Ned based on how he has treated her, remaining steadfast in her decision to be with Nick. The arbitrary infidelity and judicial subplot would be erased and, despite the unhappy ending regarding her maternal side, Helen gets to maintain her independent nature. As it stands, the canonical ending leaves the unsettling implication that Helen makes the sacrifice of returning to her verbally abusive husband to be with her child.

Blonde Venus: The Love of a Mother

While watching this film I found myself really captivated by Marlene Dietrich’s role of Helen Faraday in Blonde Venus. Throughout the entire movie she is a mother thinking of her child and her husband Ned (Herbert Marshall). In my opinion, she is a strong woman who is capable of doing what is necessary to take care of her loved ones whether that be husband and child, or herself.  In the beginning of the film she is working to for herself, and later in the film she takes up her job once more to get enough money to send her husband for treatment. When she is on the run, she is still finding ways to provide shelter and food for her son, Johnny (“Dickie” Moore). And after they have taken everything away from her, she rises even higher than before  as a performer in Paris.

In many other movies, when a woman is forced to be a single mother or is facing continuing difficulties, she has a break down moment. That or the child grows up very fast for his age in order to help the mother. Neither happens in this movie because Helen keeps her professional life separate from her personal life. The Blonde Venus on stage is a completely separate woman from Helen, mother of Johnny. Even though her job is very time consuming, she still finds time to help Johnny learn how to read and write, and she is not biased with his education (she teaches him the word father despite how Ned has been treating her). Helen also takes the newspaper away from Johnny when he asks if it is her picture and we can assume she continued to remove these pictures from his sight because in the end of the movie he does not recognize her picture when Ned shows the little boy her headline as Paris’ new star. Helen was a mother who was able to take the bottom of the barrel without complaining. Not once did she whine about her situation, or the difficulties she faced. She knew that she brought these hardships upon herself, but she would not let that affect Johnny’s outlook on life. She never told her son the truth about why they changed homes all the time. And when she had to wash the dishes to pay for her meal, she told Johnny that she is going to show him “a big kitchen”.  When she reveals herself to the detective and Ned arrives to take Johnny away, she tells her son that she will not go back with them, but she will go “tomorrow”, forever keeping the harsh reality from her son.  Although Helen and Ned’s relationship is still rocky at the end of the movie, it is clear that her love for Johnny never left and that she is willing to try again with Ned if he will take her back. Although the integrity and dignity of her character may be questionable, it is certain that she is a mother who is willing to do any and everything to have the best for her loved ones.

The Blonde Venus

I had some final thoughts about The Blonde Venus that we didn’t mention in class. I’ve never taken a film class, and honestly don’t know much about the technical/historical aspects of the film industry (well, at least now I know about the Hayes Code, which is something) so my notes and interpretations of the film were based in the thematic and narrative elements that touch on my background in WGS classes.

I think something incredibly interesting about the film that we didn’t talk about is the historical significance of the title and Helen’s stage name, “Blonde Venus.” In the early 1800s, a South African woman named Sara Baartman was put on display in Europe in freakshows as an oddity — and was nicknamed the “Hottentot Venus” (I’ve linked a quick overview of Sara’s life for those of you who have never heard about her here). This was an offensive stage name and a racial slur aimed the Khoikhoi people of South Africa.

Sara’s naked body was ogled and gawked at by the white Europeans who were both intrigued and disgusted at her different body shape. She was viewed as grossly sexual at a time where sexuality was becoming linked with ideas of morality by Victorian Europeans. We saw the remnants of this pairing during Helen’s “Hot Voodoo” routine in the film, where sexuality was characterized with something taboo and sinful, and was associated with notions of primitiveness, animalistic instincts, and of course, Africa.

I think it is important that the name of the film is “Blonde Venus” because of the ways it relates to the history and ideas about the “Hottentot Venus.” During the movie, Helen’s emergence as a sexual being, starting that first night with her Hot Voodoo routine (where she even wears a blonde afro wig), is juxtaposed and put at odds with her identity as a wife and mother. As a performer, Helen’s body is being consumed just like Sara’s once was, and her performances still have an air of immorality and sinfulness. At that time (and arguably, still today) the idea of a woman who is at once both sexual and a good mother was incompatible, as seen when she is condemned as a bad mother and judged not fit to have custody of Johnny. I personally think that the moments we saw shared between Helen and Johnny showed she was a good mother, who did whatever was necessary to help protect him and sheltered him from the reality of their situation.

Our reading didn’t touch upon this aspect of the film, but it’s hard for me to think that the naming of the film was totally unrelated to Sara Baartman. Even if it was, I think the connection sets the stage for an interesting reading of the film.

What Women Want

I apologize if I misled anyone by my title, but unfortunately I am not posting to talk solely about that Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt movie, “What Women Want” (even though it is pretty great). I included it as my title because A, I thought it was a good pun and some nice alliteration and B, this is the question I found myself asking over and over again while watching Blonde Venus. At first I believed that Helen was the happiest at home as a housewife and loving mother to Johnny; however, even then I found her relationship with Ned to be formal and almost stiff, as if there was some underlying tension not being fully addressed in the marriage. I don’t doubt that she loves Ned, but it seems to be more of a mothering love than a romantic love. She cares for him deeply and this is the reason she returns to the stage, but I didn’t note any true desperation and heartbreak in the fact that her husband and supposed “true love” was near his death bed. To me, she returned to the stage out of simple necessity, but also slightly out of boredom and and a yearning to fill a void. After all, in Germany where she had been free and full of life, she was doing the thing that brightened her most: performing. Thus, she goes back to “work.” (Is it really work for her, though?) Anyway, here’s where things start to get gray for me, because even when Helen becomes a major theater star and all the world is at her feet, I don’t get the sense that she is truly happy. I believe she is attracted to Nick and finds him endearing, but there is equally a wall being put up between the two. I think Helen recognizes the type of man Nick is; he is primarily interested in her physical appearance and the mind that comes behind her beautiful face is just extra. She knows this. She is fully aware of Nick’s motives and lack of genuine care. This is why their relationship falls through when Helen is truly in need of support; Nick disappears for months, maybe even years (it was never really made clear), and it’s hardly even addressed.

I’m going to skip over the tumultuous mess that happens in the wake of Helen’s stardom (not because it’s not important, but because I don’t even know what to make of it yet). Finally, after a very depressing downward spiral (where I’m positive she’s not at all happy), Helen finds herself back in the arms of Nick and discarding the idea of being a mother to Johnny. Again– why? Doesn’t she love Johnny? Is it just a façade? To me, most likely. After all, she wouldn’t have gone through the exhausting trouble of hiding Johnny from the authorities and Ned if she didn’t love him the most. But still– she eventually returns to Ned and Johnny and slowly slips back into the mothering role (perhaps to both of them). Helen now has all she wanted: she is back in her own home with her loving husband and adorable little boy. In fact, one might even say she has returned to square one. But, the question remains: IS SHE HAPPY? She has been through the most emotionally exhausting journey imaginable. Now, at the end of all things when she’s back in the arms of her loved ones, shouldn’t she be ecstatic, overjoyed, and simply relieved? You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Honestly, I just don’t know anymore, because even as Helen settles into her home and returns to the role she always wanted, I felt the same underlying dissatisfaction that I felt from the first scene, even after all that’s happened. Therefore, I can’t tell if this film was subversive, slightly subversive, subversive at times, purposefully non-subversive, or plain and simply not at all subversive. I don’t know. I think writing this post has made me even more confused, so I hope I can be enlightened by you all come 12:45 on Monday. My question remains: What does Helen want?

Blonde Venus Still Relevant Today

I had never seen nor head of Blonde Venus before this class, so I didn’t know what to expect. Luckily I was more than happy with what I saw in the film. The film to me still stands relevant today. If you look at the ideas of costuming or a strong independent women being scary to male authority. While constantly watching the film and even our discussion today I noticed there was mentioning of the way Helen dressed. It came to my mind when did mothers begin to have a dress code? Viewing the film from a social justice perspective Helen’s costuming shows he breaking barriers and going against the institution. She is being true to herself in some aspect even though at some point she is in disguise. This point or idea is relevant today when we look at “power suits” for women or the idea of dressing too revealing. Women in 1932 and in 2014 still find it difficult to find a balance to what society says is okay. That’s why I loved Helen’s use of costume while talking to the detective. She’s clearly not dressing to try to pick him up, but she uses it has an advantage. Truly showing how easily she could have outsmarted him. Blonde Venus is also relevant in modern films. Right when I saw the ape scene I thought of Uma Thurman in Batman Forever. Thurman playing Poison Ivy appears at a party in a full ape suit and just like Helen reveals herself by showing her hands first. I thought it was really cool to see that Helen’s actions and Dietrich performance was so strong to still be used today.

 

 

Lea Jacobs Revision

Main Points-

Lea Jacobs article uses The Blonde Venus (1932) to support her claim that looking at the full production of the film provides insight into social conflicts of the time.

MPPDA case files begin to build the evidence to delimit the spectrum of analysis. (She supports this claim by analyzing the editing censoring process compared to the final product)

MPPDA case files contain letters and memos that show justification for certain material used in the film. Jacobs uses this material to compare the edits to the final product (the edit points out the area of concern)

Endings

The majority of her argument lies within the major edits to the ending of the film. The three major contributors to the ending of the film provided the following endings:

Josef Von Sternberg- Helen gives up everything, the billionaire lover, the glamorous life and returns home to Ned and Johnny.

The Studio- Helen stays with Nick (the billionaire). Turns out Ned has been having an affair with the house keeper. In court for custody of Johnny, Nick threatens to divulge Ned’s affair ultimately forcing Ned to relinquish his custody. Then Nick and Helen end with wedding arrangements.

The Industry censors- vehemently opposes the studios ending. Then considering the released ending Jacobs infers that the industry approved the final product because it follows the rule of compensating moral values.

After discussing the endings she suggests through the industries imposed rules (i.e. compensating moral values) the studio produced the idea of the romantic couple.

Jacobs then discusses the transformation of the image of Helen due to the reworking of the story. The industry says the  image of Helen is justified through the disjuncture between motive and action (Jason Joy).  But Jacobs argues that the disjuncture is too extreme and her actions then border on the unbelievable.

The discrepancies stemming from “trying to make everyone happy” (everyone being: the director, studio and industry) leads to a division of Helen’s character and the actress playing her.

This division exploits material relating to female sexuality and confuses the intentions of Helen. (i.e the lyrics in “Hot Voodoo” suggest sexual desire, puts her intent into question when she starts her affair)

Overall, Jacobs argues that to fully analyze The Blonde Venus you must look at the entire revision process through the final product to be able to delimit the conflicts that are produced.

The Blonde Dietrich

Joseph Von Sternberg’s, The Blonde Venus (1932), was ultimately a collaboration of opposing visions coming together to create a contradicting film. My initial reaction to the film was that it was entertaining in a folksy way. Dietrich fulfilled her role as a beautiful night club performer but essentially was unconvincing as anything else. In the Jacobs article she touches on that fact saying, Helen isn’t necessarily the Blonde Venus but that Dietrich is, implying discontinuity within the character of Helen. That observation along with commentary about the editing conflicts between the director, an industry censor and the film’s producer shined light on why the film left me lost and a bit unsatisfied. Trying to force three completely different directions to go one way does not work and this film was definitely an example of this disharmony.

On a personal note, I love the glamor shots and opening of the movie.  The imagery and camera edits of the opening are aesthetically incredible.

Blonde Venus Thoughts

Fun fact, My parents named me after Marlene Dietrich, so I always love watching her movies.
Anyways, onto Blonde Venus and a bit on the Hays Code.

I have had to study the Hays Code in depth while taking American Film History when I was studying abroad in Japan.  I’ve seen films that came right before and right after code was put in place.  I’ve always found it interesting to see how film directors, when film was a director’s art, got around the Hays Code by making nods to potentially inappropriate themes.  One of my favorite pre-Hays Code films about women entertainers is Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933).  That film, in terms of potentially scandalous on-screen acts and even on-screen costume changes, makes Blonde Venus out to be a pretty innocent film.  But what makes Blonde Venus‘s writing and cinematography so smart is that it implies all of those potentially scandalous bits while still being innocent.

In general, Blonde Venus sort of irked me.  Marlene Dietrich’s character as someone who was both faithful and unfaithful in different ways really just annoyed me.  I kind of wanted her to lose as the film progressed.  I have an issue with people (men and women) who are unfaithful lovers.  While she tried to portray herself as a faithful mother, as a faithful lover she failed as a character.  As a mother, she tried to do good.  But she was sort of destroying her son’s life at the same time and at some point it wasn’t even for the sake of being an independent woman.   It was difficult for me to sympathize with her character.

Was she supposed to be a good mother?  I couldn’t tell.  She was definitely an unfaithful wife and lover and kind of a cheat.  I couldn’t really tell what she wanted as a woman either.  She didn’t really seem like someone who was after respect and independence from men.  She didn’t seem like someone who was really capable to be a single mother, either.

What I found most interesting in the film though, was at the end, in Paris, Marlene’s character (I am really sorry, I forgot her name) was wearing a rather conservative dress-suit in her performance, as opposed to all the flashy dresses she wore in the cabarets in America.   The way I read that was that she had gotten so big on her own, that she didn’t need to sell her bodily appearance to be a successful performer.  In America, she kept using the help of men to gain more and more status.  But in Paris she was her own woman.  I would’ve liked to see the film end there because it would’ve amounted to some sort of growth in Marlene’s character.  But everything that happened afterwards just kind of ruined it for me.

Those are my thoughts on this film.  It’s a stark contrast to a film like Gold Diggers of 1933.  I felt the women in that film were much stronger and compelling than Marlene’s character.  I don’t know, maybe I just really like Gold Diggers of 1933.

The Hayes Code

The Hayes code was in censorship code imposed during the making of Blonde Venus as the assigned article outlines in further detail. However I felt the article was a bit spartan in terms of the actual realities of the Hayes code while it was in action.

In Blonde Venus there were numerous sexual innuendoes and raunchy humor which were explicitly banned by the Hayes Code. However directors under the Hayes Code were clever, they knew if they were able to fool the censor through metaphor and word play they could keep their content relatively unchanged.

A better example perhaps is the Film Bringing Up Baby. The film is relatively tame under the standards of the Hayes Code however due to a simple visual gag and clever writing the opening of the film is overtly sexual in nature and hilarious once the visual gag is revealed. (look it up on youtube, once you get the joke you’ll know)