If Jean Renoir's first film "Whirlpool of Fate" first takes us into the world of the countryside, the rivers, the lives of the peasantry that he will continue to explore, it seems only fitting that his second film deals for the most part with the wealthy and the privileged, the upper classes and those who are trying to claw their way upwards. Put the characters from the first two films together and you have the seeds of his great "Grand Illusion" and "Rules of the Game." This is beautifully filmed, with the restless camera making full use of the amazingly huge apartments and backstage areas that dominate the film's interiors, and the acting though frequently overwrought offers some great moments as well, particularly from Werner Krauss' Muffat. But the glamorous and sultry Ms. Hessling, who at first appears as if she might give Louise Brooks a run for her money in vampishness, never goes beyond a one note, selfish harlot portrayal. Perhaps this is in part a problem with the script, which does seem to mostly go for high points and outraged emotions; not having read the novel I'm not really clear on whether the choices were well-made or not.

Still, the differences between Nana's suitors are well-drawn, and I particularly liked the relationship between Muffat and Jean Angelo's Vandeuvres -- the tragic understandings that each seems to have of his ultimate fate and their sympathy with each other, particularly in the scene at the bottom of the enormous staircase where Vandeuvres warns Muffat, and we wonder if violence will erupt -- this and other gleanings of the ridiculousness of the idle rich help give the film the depth it has.

Far from his greatest achievement, and for me probably just shy overall of "Whirlpool of Fate", this is still well worth seeing for Renoir fans or those interested in silent cinema generally.

The premise of Emile Zola's magnificent cycle of novels 'Les Rougon-Macquart' is that we are what we are through a combination of genetics and environment and that bad social conditions are apt to bring hereditary vices to the surface.

We are first introduced to Nana as a girl in book seven of the series 'L'Assommoir', in which her blood has been spoiled by a long heredity of misery and drunkenness and where she is already on the path to being a cocotte. She appears again as the title character of book nine and here the process is complete. Having failed miserably as an actress she decides to make her fortune by employing her talents in the boudoir. Her life as a courtesan can be viewed either as a symbol of Second Empire corruption or as a means by which she can gain revenge for her deprived childhood.

Jean Renoir's version represents his most challenging film of the silent era and he comes through with flying colours. The elements we have come to expect from this director are all here in terms of theatricality, tragi-comedy, relations between the upper and lower classes and of course excellent characterisations. Visually there is the painterly influence of his father Auguste. He has certainly got his money's worth here as future director Claude Autant-Lara is not only credited as set and costume designer but also plays the role of Fauchery whilst Pierre Lestringuez has adapted the novel as well as playing Bordenave. Memorable sequences are the Grand Prix races, Nana dancing the Can-Can in the Bal Mabille and not least the disturbing scene where Nana's maid and hairdresser witness her ridiculing and degrading her three high society lovers one by one.

Renoir has chosen to concentrate mainly on the trio of Nana and Counts Muffat and Vandeuvres. Muffat, whose obsession with Nana brings only disgrace and despair, is played by the brilliant Werner Krauss. He became one of Germany's most respected and honoured actors despite his closeness to Hitler's regime and his virulent anti-Semitism. His mesmerising performance epitomises aristocratic arrogance and disdain which makes his character's fall from grace even more pitiful. As Vandeuvres we have Jean Angelo, an actor of great presence and sensitivity whose character pays the ultimate price for his 'amour fou'. As Nana, Renoir has cast his then wife Catherine Hessling whom he met when she was modelling for his father. Her portrayal has been described as 'idiosyncratic'. Physically she is a far cry from Zola's imagining but she has captured Nana's innate vulgarity and there is no mistaking that her character has, in Zola's own words, "grown from the Parisian pavement."

Beautifully restored with some gorgeous tints, the film has retained a little of Maurice Jaubert's original score and an imaginative, newly composed score has been provided by Marc-Olivier Dupin for a fourteen piece ensemble.

Despite the film's success it could never recoup its massive budget and Renoir himself lost the money he had put in through the fault of the distributors. Not far short of a century later it remains the work of a master and as Renoir himself has said "It is the only one of my silent films that is worth talking about."

Another film to cross off my Jean Renoir Complete List, another probably never to watch again. It's not that it's bad, generally it's pretty good and nearly always interesting but it's over-melodramatised and simplified Zola for my taste.

Actress Nana has men especially rich men eating out of the palm of her hand and begging for more, she has at least 3 suitors vying for her courtesan favours. How it all unravels is the subject of the classic tale. And the sets are marvellous, sub-Stroheim, the modern tinting and music very good (Studio Canal),the print clear and sharp, and the photography excellent considering the then technical limitations Renoir had to contend with. The big problem is Hessling's – and the other leads – constant over-acting spoil the flow of the story. Definitely not tres chic! They all make the contemporary British barnstorming actor Todd Slaughter look subtle in comparison, although to be fair for a lot of the time the leading men seemed to understudy statues to Nana's wildly waving arms. As a rule silent films needed expressive acting to hold wandering eyes in the cinemas, but this reminded me of the mickey-taking in Singin' In The Rain. A red blooded male swooningly said at the beginning in response to her stage dancing that she was "the pinnacle of elegance"! And I also doubt whether either sexists or feminists will find anything worthwhile.

But I enjoyed the 129 minutes as I like silent films anyway – if you're only a Renoir completist I think it'll be an ordeal for you to complete. Nice print and tints!