At the Josef von Sternberg tribute and retrospective at the 1966 Mannheim festival, Harry Kümel met the filmmaker and expressed his admiration for von Sternberg. At the time Kümel was working on interviews with important filmmakers somewhat in the style of Cinéastes de notre temps for Belgian television (BRT), and he had the idea to invite Josef von Sternberg to Brussels. Jacques Ledoux, curator of the Royal Belgian Film Archive and yet another fan of the director, joined the undertaking. At the time I was a young producer working for a film program for television. We showed Josef von Sternberg around Brussels for a few days, we took him to the Wiertz Museum, introduced him to Félicien Rops, and then it was time for serious interviewing. I was first surprised by this small, agile, taciturn man, sparing with his emotions and unexpectedly modest for a big Hollywood director. The stereotypical image of Hollywood directors quickly vanished into thin air. Harry Kümel wanted to meet him in the airport’s VIP-Room. He would have wanted a red carpet too… But Sabena wanted to know who this unknown celebrity was. Fortunately, TV’s prestige smoothed things out. I waited for them in the lobby of  the hotel, and since it was a long wait I decided to read: Arthur Schnitzler’s childhood memories of Vienna. Later over a cup of coffee, von Sternberg asked if he could borrow the book (it was in German) because he was very interested in the story. Needless to say I gave him the book at once. All of a sudden, I sensed that this small man was, despite it all, still Viennese at heart. His small ironic smile at the corner of his lips could not conceal that hint of bitterness – completely understandable – about his career. Under his calm and reserved exterior hid sentiments and emotions that were stronger than could be imagined (a trace of which can be seen in his correspondence with the German critic Frieda Grafe dating from the time and published posthumously by her husband Enno Patalas in the tenth volume of her writings). At breakfast von Sternberg could not understand why in this grand hotel he could not get… grapefruit juice instead of orange juice. His modesty undoubtedly was also…Viennese. By just listening to him it sounded like he made all his films by hand. It was easy to think so because of his deep interest in everything that surrounded him. For instance, at the restaurant – he suddenly would ask how the table we were sitting at was made, what type of carpentry had been employed to make it… Then it was time for the moment we were all afraid of because neither Harry nor I had the personality of an aggressive journalist! I detested interviewing filmmakers. Chatting with Truffaut, Tati or Resnais was truly a pleasure… but when the camera started rollingmodesty and a respect for privacy prevented me from asking the questions, which, moreover, all seemed insignificant. Yes, well, monsieur von Sternberg, Marlene?… A long silence, a theatrical gesture, one undoubtedly repeated: von Sternberg pulls out a watch from his gilet and with a sweeping gesture without words holds up its gold chain: the letters of the two names hung between the links. Needless to say, the picture could easily have been… a scene in one of von Sternberg’s films! A few months later, Josef von Sternberg died. Before leaving he gave Jacques Ledoux a self-portrait…

Eric De Kuyper