It's not everyday you come across a World War II film that takes a very personal and subversive route for it's storytelling. Liliana Cavani's The Night Porter is an anomalous post-war film that goes off in wildly sexual and bizarre directions, never once thinking to bludgeon you over the head with tired WWII idioms. There are no easy, hyperbolic Nazi villains, no sad-sack accounts of Jewish prisoners, no blood-spattered Normandy beach invasions. The Night Porter is, instead, a deeply felt exploration of the sadistic relationships that form in the face of overwhelming decadence, power and cruelty.
The film is set 13 years after the war, following Maximilian, a former S.S. officer that now works as the night porter at a prestigious hotel in Vienna. One day, a former prisoner of his, Lucia, walks into the hotel. The meeting conjures up feelings of the past and the two start to fall into the sado-masochistic relationship they had during the war. Max's old comrades actively work to clear him of his past by tying up any loose ends and eliminating any witnesses to his past actions, but Max begins to worry as they set their sights on Lucia.
The Night Porter, with it's straight-across editing, features so many stark, unforgettable moments, you'll be reeling by the end of it. This is primarily because half of the film plays out in the memories of the various characters, daydreaming at a familiar sight in the present day. Cavani expertly juxtaposes the past and present, drawing a firm, dark line to show that things may change but old habits die hard. The most powerful scene of the film is constructed in this fashion, where Max and Lucia separately attend the same ballet performance.
As the dancers get underway, Max observes Lucia a few rows ahead of him, and their shared memories come gushing forth. The austere classical music of the ballet continues to rise as the scene shifts to Lucia - roughly cut short hair, pale, darkened eyes and emaciated - sitting in a musty hospital bed surrounded by other prisoners. Max approaches in full Nazi uniform, taking her away to conduct his experiments. As the memories progress, there is a visible mark of enjoyment in Lucia's eyes. The punishment and pain have turned into a pleasure of dependency and domination.
Luckily, the sexual sadism in the film is never exploited or turned into a grotesque monster. Cavani's camera provides an even-hand, framing Max and Lucia's relationship with an understated grace. In fact, towards the middle of the film, it becomes something of a bizarre love story. Max attempts to keep Lucia alive and away from the clutches of his old comrades, no matter the cost. It's because the two are inextricably bound by an obsession with punishment and dominance, an obsessive, inverted affection that is only shared between them.
Though Charlotte Rampling does a fine job as Lucia - particularly during the famous cabaret scene where she is half-naked, wearing an S.S. hat and trousers - the film is tailored much more towards Max, and Dirk Bogarde delivers in spades. Bogarde plays the ex-Nazi as a smug, cunning and quiet man who has transcended his obedience and loyalty to the Third Reich, but still revels in the twisted machinations that his given power allowed him. All the mild-mannered exchanges, punctuated by soft smirks and kind eyes, have a pitch-perfect execution, making Max simultaneously the comforting protagonist and the inscrutable villain.
The only major failing of The Night Porter is the pedestrian original score. It's a set of harmless, jazz-infused pieces that sound very indicative of the opening credits to a '70s TV sit-com. If the film had only relied on the occasional disquieting classical and opera pieces featured in several key scenes, The Night Porter's sense of solidification would be complete.
Of course, it's a rare case where the score doesn't sabotage the experience. Cavani's portrayal of the taboo, politically rapturous relationship between Max and Lucia is captured with such a clear-headed moderation, it makes The Night Porter a daringly original film, even to this day. The director's tasteful penchant for high-art visuals and ironically affecting relationships will put you in a strange, but ultimately satisfying, space. And at the end of the day, who couldn't do with a little Nazi decadence?
