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#(17) DER BLAUE ENGEL
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The theme is light and heavy. Here Emil Jannings' egg is balanced precariously on Marlene Deitrich's unforgiving anvil. What is going to happen to that egg? Whatever it is, it won't be good for Janning's lacerated spirit, while the innocent catalyst of his destruction will scarcely feel a thing. He brought it on himself, you might say, and there's no fool like an old fool. But if we were each of us punished in proportion to our mistakes, especially those of the heart, there'd be no room to spare in Purgatory. They'd have to cut loose the real bad actors to make space, and even then we'd be stacked like cordwood and spill into the less savory antechambers of Hell. So, when the sober citizen goes schoolboy-lovesick over a nightclub nightingale, runs off the rails and loses everything-reputation, worldly goods, self-esteem and all-consider that naughty Cupid could have done the same for you. And might yet. |