GetOut Magazine

‘Gloomy Sunday’ turns a dark eye on love and war
By CRAIG OUTHIER
GET OUT
The lads in Judas Priest weren't the first musicians accused of ushering troubled souls to the doorstep of suicide. In pre-World War II Hungary, the same charges were made about a melancholy love ballad called “Gloomy Sunday,” later popularized in America by Billie Holiday.

Allegedly, the song's European release in 1935 prompted an alarming rash of suicides. Whenever a body was found, so was the record, spinning idly on a nearby phonograph. Six decades later, that cheerful legend comes to life in a brooding wartime romance from German director Rolf Schubel. With its tidy themes of jealousy, fortune and betrayal, the movie feels both morally instructive and soapy — like something Charles Dickens might have whipped up over a bowl of goulash.

Brilliant, eccentric pianist Andras (Stefano Dionisi) is so romantically thunderstruck by Ilona (Erika Marozsan) — the manager of the elegant Budapest restaurant where he performs — that he composes a song (yes, that song) in her honor.

Problem is, Ilona is already having an affair with Laszlo (Joachim Krol), the prosperous, unpretentious owner of the restaurant. Complicating matters further is Hans (Ben Becker), an awkward, amiable German tourist who develops a passion for both Ilona and the restaurant's tasty roulade. Hans also predicts the inevitable rise of a German superstate, although at the time no one pays much heed.

The years wear on. Ilona takes both Laszlo and Andras into her bed, an arrangement that thrills neither man but which neither can do much about. The song becomes a huge hit, which turns out to be a mixed blessing for sensitive, secretive Andras when people start killing themselves. It never occurs to him that the rise of Nazism also might be a contributing factor to the suicides. Ultimately, the Nazis take over, bringing Hans back to Budapest as an arrogant SS officer who makes a fortune on the side selectively rescuing wealthy Jews.

Repaying a life debt, Hans also protects Laszlo, who is Jewish, and the restaurant, which he still adores. But with Laszlo standing between him and Ilona, how long will Hans remain loyal to his old friend?