The Marlene Dietrich of Maximillian Schell’s award-winning documentary is unfathomable, contradictory and enigmatic, in keeping with the persona she cultivated throughout her career.  Never allowing herself to be filmed despite Schell’s pleas, Dietrich at times speaks cantankerously, at times poetically – and consistently fascinatingly.

Clearly the nature of celebrity and fame has changed immeasurably since this documentary was first released, and even in 1984 Dietrich was a very old-fashioned icon. Her recollections of working in silent film at the start of her career, and the numerous clips that illustrate her work in several classic Hollywood movies now stand as examples of film history, not just the memories of a reclusive actress.

Having worked at a time when the very separate public and private faces of movie stars allowed mystery and a certain degree of privacy, Dietrich’s refusal to be filmed, or indeed to watch her own work seem alien in these days of the narcissistic “celebrity”.  It is difficult to reconcile the voice of the private woman full of loathing for “kitsch”, with the images of a sequinned, fur-draped siren singing nostalgic numbers in performances still imitated by drag queens the world over.  Happy to act, sing and burlesque her trademark persona on stage, she refuses to be drawn on her innermost thoughts – things that have nothing to do with her job – which is simply what being one of the most iconic stars to have lived was for her.  In these days where so many actors and performers appear to require the public’s approval of their personality and lifestyles, as well as (and occasionally over and above) their talents, this reminder of the golden age of Hollywood is welcome.

In his attempt to show the “real” Dietrich, Schell’s conversations with her allow merely the tiniest glimpse of her true self, fiercely protecting her privacy and her existence as a woman, not solely a publicly owned movie legend.  Dismissive of and occasionally derogatory about her film performances, this is a woman unimpressed by the life she has lived, and reluctant to comment on herself or her experiences.  At several points, when asked to recall a highlight in her career, she refers Schell back to her book, and refuses to enlighten him further.  She simply allows him the contracted 40 hours of conversation they agreed upon – no more and no less.

No doubt frustrated by Dietrich’s unswerving resolve forbidding him to film her, Schell instead includes footage of his team as they recall the difficult process of securing the interview with her.  There are also clips of his team attempting to recreate the Paris flat in which Dietrich and he met, complete with a line of impersonators, presumably in an effort to allow the viewer a sense of the atmosphere surrounding the conversations.  However, Schell himself seems to have been painfully aware of how unremarkable this footage would appear as he tries repeatedly to convince Dietrich to appear onscreen, and both he and the viewer must console themselves with the numerous clips of her performances that are included – showing her to be consistently polished, rehearsed and precise.  On reflection however, hearing only her voice lends a ghostlike quality to the piece that is utterly in keeping with the untouchable and enigmatic private persona Dietrich guarded so fiercely.