Posted: 10/29/2006

Gloomy Sunday

(2003)

by Jordan Corson

Gloomy Sunday is a fantastic, moving film set between annoying and banal bookends. It is a film that is every inch a melodrama. Two men love one woman (Erica Marozsan). They face trials, tribulations, and triumphs, all while a war plays out in the backdrop of these people’s lives. But it’s not all that bad. In fact, the strength of Gloomy Sunday is that it heads straight through its melodramatic roots and becomes a rather successful, emotionally engaging piece of cinema.

As Jewish restaurant owner, Lazlo, and his girlfriend, Ilano, prepare to open their new Budapest restaurant, they are in need of a pianist. Young, troubled-looking Andras lands the gig and immediately starts sleeping with Ilano. Already, the melodrama creeps in. It is only when the two men reconcile, and the infamous three-person relationship is established (seen in Jules et Jim or modern films like Y tu mamá también) that the film heads in a more successful direction. Andras’ song, “Gloomy Sunday,” finds worldwide success, thanks in part to Lazlo’s business skills. The war spreads to Hungary. People all over the world are listening to Andras’ dark, yet powerful song. Not only are they listening to the song, they’re killing themselves to the song. Yet, through the war and these other difficulties, the three characters try to use each other to survive.

The film is covered in familiar moments, especially ones instantly recognizable for World War II and Holocaust films. For example, there are several moments (especially those from the restaurant) that are certain to elicit parallels with Casablanca from the viewer. Gloomy Sunday seems to include countless old film clichés without relying on them. The presence of these clichés is, at first, irksome. As we proceed through the film, however, the filmmaker seems to be almost entirely unaware of such clichés. Or, rather, he knows of those films that came before. He does not, however, want to fight against the overwhelming examples of Holocaust and World War II films. Gloomy Sunday is not trying to comment on or reinvent the image of this time period or this genre of filmmaking. The filmmaker simply makes his film in an open, unabashed way. Thus, instead of making open references to Casablanca or avoiding themes, images, or otherwise that might invoke these classic films, Gloomy Sunday simply ignores them and tells the story. And through this, despite certain melodramatic ickiness, Gloomy Sunday is an amazing film.

But then, there are those bookends. The beginning is there to set a mood. The end is there to add a settling feeling of closure, intrigue, and leave us with a touch of something cyclical. Neither part of the film accomplishes what it wants to accomplish. It feels like a misguided idea to include something of the present day. For a film that is so otherwise successful through invoking an emotional connection, the beginning and end disrupt and hinder the film. But if you’re lucky enough to somehow miss the first three minutes and fall asleep for the last few, you’ll see an honest approach to a melodrama.

Jordan Corson is a film critic living in Chicago.

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