Friday, February 20, 2009

The Heinz Ehrhardt Effect

February 20th would have been the 100th birthday of Heinz Ehrhardt, one of Germany’s most beloved post-war comics, a wirtschaftswunder’s everyman with an extraordinary facility with wordplay to which other comics can only hope to aspire. I admit some of the wordplay is lost on me, but his loveable character isn’t. He is the uncle you wish you’d always had: kind, naive, a certain and stable center of tender good intentions in an ever-faster world. Apparently in real life he was a bit of a workaholic, dying early in the 1970’s of a heart attack, beloved by his four children, who didn’t get enough time with him. Ehrhardt and Loriot are Germany’s greatest comedic influences—both legendary, here.

Lately I saw the film that he made in Einbeck in ca. 1957, (Vater, Mutter und Neun Kinder) which was finished in studios that then existed in Göttingen. It is filmed outside and presumably inside the oldest town drugstore (Apotheke) in the market square, (I have myself bought mosquito repellant there, it is next to our pediatrician) with other scenes taking place on the lake near Northeim.

In it, Heinz is the father of nine, and is concerned with getting several late-teenage children married off. There are charming scenes of small town, idealized German life and but one reference to the difficult times after the war. One daughter apparently enjoys dancing with her own brother a bit too much, which we find out is understandable and healthy when the mother informs her she is not really their daughter, but rather the child of best-friends who died in Hannover during the war—she had been adopted! Everything’s cool with Klaus!
The ever-loveable Heinz good-naturedly surrounded by his adoring daughters in Vater, Mutter und Neun Kinder

There is a subplot which has Heinz sweating it out that he might have had a tipsy and amnesiac indiscretion with the trophy-wife of a local bigshot—but his sensible wife straightens everything out just in time for their 25th wedding anniversary. The actress who plays her is a perfect foil to his bumbling and innocence—more than a bit sharp and earthier than he.

This film was quite influential in its day. The family sings and makes music together (Ehrhardt’s first love was the piano, and he always sings in films), and I can see it may have had an influence on The Sound of Music from 1965. Also, there is a scene where one daughter and her French boyfriend fall into the lake — he offers her his soaking handkerchief with which to dry off, just like Roger does in 101 Dalmatians of 1967, although I must say, to less effect.

The film is a true feel-good movie, but has just enough touches of real life to relieve the sweetness: one son drinks too much champagne at the party and barfs, and one ambitious daughter’s report in the local newspaper unleashes the central misunderstanding, while the two youngest kids have to go without duck at Sunday dinner (and told to lie that they don’t like it!) in order to politely fill the stomach of an unexpected guest. I really liked it more than I thought I might. I can definitely see how it has the same effect for Germans as It’s a Wonderful Life has one me: tears of joy at every year’s viewing.

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