text: A story of obsessive love pushed to its limits and of a lovely swan whose beauty is the very ticket to her own premature demise. Placed at the beginning of talkies, PRIX DE BEAUTE walks a thin line in being a full-on silent film -- which is still is at heart -- and flirting with sound and sound effects. The effect is a little irritating for anyone coming into this film because the recorded audio is extremely tinny and just doesn't help it at all. Hearing sound stage conversation edited over the beginning sequence which takes place in a beach, for example, is as part of the movie as the actress who dubs Louise Brooks' dialog and in doing so robs the audience of a fine performance. Other than that, the movie rolls along more or less well, with little jumps in continuity here and there -- something quite common in films from this era -- and has that vague sped up feel typical of silents. In a way, this is an experiment of a movie, and closer to the style of Sergei Eisenstein in visual presentation and near-intimate closeups that elevate it from what would be a more pedestrian level. Louise Brooks here plays a character less flapper than what she was known for: she's a stenographer who on a lark decides to enter a beauty contest despite the furious opposition of her extremely smothering boyfriend. Her role is quite Thirties and contemporary for its time; the last of the flapper/Jazz Baby roles were being shown on screen and now, with the onset of female independence, women as professionals were being represented in film. That Brooks's character decides to leave her boyfriend (even if she does "reconcile" with him later) is also a little ahead of her time. However, her character's fatal flaw is its willing to believe what isn't there -- that her boyfriend wants her to succeed -- and this is what leads to her end at the movie theatre. This final sequence looks like something straight out of Hitchcock in its heightened suspense (seen in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH) and cuts from Brooks, her image on screen, and the murderous boyfriend. Even more dramatic is the placement of the still singing "live" Brooks with the now dead one -- a chilling effect to a chilling, powerful movie.
query: A story of obsessive love pushed to its
gen_review:  limits and of a lovely swan whose beauty is the very ticket to her own premature demise. Placed at the beginning of talkies, PRIX DE BEAUTE walks a thin line in being a full-on silent film -- which is still is at heart -- and flirting with sound and sound effects. The effect is a little irritating for anyone coming into this film because the recorded audio is extremely tinny and just doesn't help it at all. Hearing sound stage conversation edited over the beginning sequence which takes place in a beach, for example, is as part of the movie as the actress who dubs Louise Brooks' dialog and in doing so robs the audience of a fine performance. Other than that, the movie rolls along more or less well, with little jumps in continuity here and there -- something quite common in films from this era -- and has that vague sped up feel typical of silents. In a way, this is an experiment of a movie, and closer to the style of Sergei Eisenstein in visual presentation and near-intimate closeups that elevate it from what would be a more pedestrian level. Louise Brooks here plays a character less flapper than what she was known for: she's a stenographer who on a lark decides to enter a beauty contest despite the furious opposition of her extremely smothering boyfriend. Her role is quite Thirties and contemporary for its time; the last of the flapper/Jazz Baby roles were being shown on screen and now, with the onset of female independence, women as professionals were being represented in film. That Brooks's character decides to leave her boyfriend (even if she does "reconcile" with him later) is also a little ahead of her time. However, her character's fatal flaw is its willing to believe what isn't there -- that her boyfriend wants her to succeed -- and this is what leads to her end at the movie theatre. This final sequence looks like something straight out of Hitchcock in its heightened suspense (seen in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH) and cuts from Brooks, her image on screen, and the murderous boyfriend. Even more dramatic is the placement of the still singing "live" Brooks with the now dead one -- a chilling effect to a chilling, powerful movie.
reference_response:   limits and of a lovely swan whose beauty is the very ticket to her own premature demise. Placed at the beginning of talkies, PRIX DE BEAUTE walks a thin line in being a full-on silent film -- which is still is at heart -- and flirting with sound and sound effects. The effect is a little irritating for anyone coming into this film because the recorded audio is extremely tinny and just doesn't help it at all. Hearing sound stage conversation edited over the beginning sequence which takes place in a beach, for example, is as part of the movie as the actress who dubs Louise Brooks' dialog and in doing so robs the audience of a fine performance. Other than that, the movie rolls along more or less well, with little jumps in continuity here and there -- something quite common in films from this era -- and has that vague sped up feel typical of silents. In a way, this is an experiment of a movie, and closer to the style of Sergei Eisenstein in visual presentation and near-intimate closeups that elevate it from what would be a more pedestrian level. Louise Brooks here plays a character less flapper than what she was known for: she's a stenographer who on a lark decides to enter a beauty contest despite the furious opposition of her extremely smothering boyfriend. Her role is quite Thirties and contemporary for its time; the last of the flapper/Jazz Baby roles were being shown on screen and now, with the onset of female independence, women as professionals were being represented in film. That Brooks's character decides to leave her boyfriend (even if she does "reconcile" with him later) is also a little ahead of her time. However, her character's fatal flaw is its willing to believe what isn't there -- that her boyfriend wants her to succeed -- and this is what leads to her end at the movie theatre. This final sequence looks like something straight out of Hitchcock in its heightened suspense (seen in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH) and cuts from Brooks, her image on screen, and the murderous boyfriend. Even more dramatic is the placement of the still singing "live" Brooks with the now dead one -- a chilling effect to a chilling, powerful movie.<|endoftext|>
query_reference_response: A story of obsessive love pushed to its  limits and of a lovely swan whose beauty is the very ticket to her own premature demise. Placed at the beginning of talkies, PRIX DE BEAUTE walks a thin line in being a full-on silent film -- which is still is at heart -- and flirting with sound and sound effects. The effect is a little irritating for anyone coming into this film because the recorded audio is extremely tinny and just doesn't help it at all. Hearing sound stage conversation edited over the beginning sequence which takes place in a beach, for example, is as part of the movie as the actress who dubs Louise Brooks' dialog and in doing so robs the audience of a fine performance. Other than that, the movie rolls along more or less well, with little jumps in continuity here and there -- something quite common in films from this era -- and has that vague sped up feel typical of silents. In a way, this is an experiment of a movie, and closer to the style of Sergei Eisenstein in visual presentation and near-intimate closeups that elevate it from what would be a more pedestrian level. Louise Brooks here plays a character less flapper than what she was known for: she's a stenographer who on a lark decides to enter a beauty contest despite the furious opposition of her extremely smothering boyfriend. Her role is quite Thirties and contemporary for its time; the last of the flapper/Jazz Baby roles were being shown on screen and now, with the onset of female independence, women as professionals were being represented in film. That Brooks's character decides to leave her boyfriend (even if she does "reconcile" with him later) is also a little ahead of her time. However, her character's fatal flaw is its willing to believe what isn't there -- that her boyfriend wants her to succeed -- and this is what leads to her end at the movie theatre. This final sequence looks like something straight out of Hitchcock in its heightened suspense (seen in THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH) and cuts from Brooks, her image on screen, and the murderous boyfriend. Even more dramatic is the placement of the still singing "live" Brooks with the now dead one -- a chilling effect to a chilling, powerful movie.<|endoftext|>