Throughout her life, Mother Theresa made many profound statements, but one of the most striking was “Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty”, which is a stark reminder of how money is so actively pursued by the vast majority of us, often at the favour of the more important things in life, which are often see as secondary when going after success. This is the basis for David Golder, the extraordinary social drama, and Julien Duvivier’s first sound film, based on the novel by Irène Némirovsky. A complex, harrowing voyage into the trials and tribulations of a man broken by a society he used to command, and forced to rebuild himself, even when it becomes clear this is almost impossible due to his social circumstances. Duvivier constructs such a vivid story of suffering, albeit one that doesn’t situate itself fully within misery, rather using the platform to make some profound statements on the treachery of wealth and the persistent need to remind ourselves to the value that lies beyond material wealth, realizing that there is always something much deeper than that which we see on the surface. Put together as something of a fable, and executed with stunning imagery, a few terrific performances (particularly from Harry Baur, who leads this film with such cultivated grace) and a general sense of unimpeachable poignancy, Duvivier’s work here is something of a minor masterpiece, a miraculous exploration of the human condition that is simultaneously poetic and heartwrenching, and truly unforgettable in both its fundamental ideas and the manner in which the director conveys some striking commentary, conveying both the darker side of humanity, and the value in holding out hope, even when all prospects are entirely bleak.

More than an anti-capitalist manifesto, David Golder is a poignant portrait of a man navigating a world he has stopped being able to recognize, despite being someone who celebrated it as a bon vivant for so many years. So much of his life was spent at the very top, making his rapid descent all the more heartbreaking, particularly since it isn’t by his own actions, but rather the carelessness of those around him. Duvivier weaves a powerful story of someone on two very different journeys – the first is the physical one, travelling from his impoverished roots in Poland, to New York City, where he made his fortune, and then to Paris, where he hopes to spend the rest of his days in comfort after a life of hard work, his luxuries being entirely earned – only to find out that his wealth is almost non-existent, and he has next to nothing, with the name “David Golder” now being a source of mockery rather than respect and grandiosity. The second journey is the more metaphysical one, where he is forced to address certain issues and re-evaluate his life based on his current descent into not only material poverty but also a more personal kind of impoverishment, resulting from his loss of not only wealth but status. He’s reduced to bankruptcy and ultimately decides that he needs to set his affairs in order, as while he may die a poor man, at least he’ll know he left the world peacefully, as an asset to it, rather than a liability. These two journeys intertwine in final stages of David’s life, and the director demonstrates his path towards realizing the volatility of both wealth and reputation as a series of heartbreaking moments, each one compounding on the protagonist, until it becomes a burden that causes him to almost entirely collapse, only holding on by a slender thread, before the inevitable collision with reality.

Harry Baur is simply a revelation in this film, and like Duvivier was making his debut in a sound film here. His incredible performance is key to realizing the meaning behind the character of David Golder since this is someone who goes through a stark change throughout the film. At the start, David is a greedy, hedonistic man who receives the shocking news that his own wealth, which he has worked tirelessly for over the past few decades, is drying up, leaving him almost entirely ruined, with very little to his name. Gradually, he loses every discernible quality that made him such a respected figure – his reputation as one of the great modern businessmen, his lust for life and the taste for luxury, and the joy that came in knowing that he was secure in his high-society status. The only aspect that remains after the fall from grace is David’s unimpeachable humanity, which comes through resoundingly in Baur’s performance. This is a character study of an old man rapidly approaching the end of his life, and the actor does exceptionally well in taking us on this journey. David Golder is built on its authenticity, and there’s absolutely no way that this film would’ve succeeded in this regard had Baur not committed so beautifully to the part. Even when the character is at his most self-indulgent in the early stages of the film, Baur finds some way to humanize him and add nuance to the trope of the epicurean millionaire, which would’ve been the case without such immense dedication to finding the truth underpinning the part. There so some incredible moments in this film that rest solely on the capable shoulders of Baur, who commands the screen with a gnawing intensity that drives it forward – just consider the scene towards the peak of the film, where David berates his wife for her persistent abuse of both his reputation and wealth, resulting in his ruin – it’s a heartwrenching scene purely because of how Baur commits to it, one of several moments in this film where the honesty underpinning this performance, and the characters around it, aids it in reaching some impossible heights.

David Golder, despite the subject matter, is not much of a morality tale. This is more akin to the achingly beautiful Make Way for Tomorrow both tonally and thematically than the heavyhanded “message” films that pervaded around this time. Undeniably, Duvivier has made a film driven by sadness – there’s very little joy in this film, and the few moments of levity are used to haunting effect, a way of demonstrating the excess that has caused the main character’s ruin. There’s a persistent melancholy that can be felt in every scene, a kind of downbeat sentimentality that feels entirely authentic. The key to making David Golder successful came in how Duvivier seemed to go against the grain of constructing an overwrought narrative propelled by nothing but misery, instead replacing it all with real emotions, each one carrying depth and pathos that can be felt in every frame. This film aspires to be a poignant exploration of loneliness in the face of a crisis, and while there isn’t much optimism to be found anywhere here, there’s still a poetic sense of hope that persists throughout, which only makes the gradual erosion of the main character’s status even more heartbreaking. The director isn’t intent on teaching us a lesson here – despite thrust of the film focusing on how David’s refusal to help his financially-struggling colleague results in a kind of karmic retribution, the film is surprisingly compassionate and honest, setting clear boundaries and exploring its subject matter with such disquieting elegance, never opting to take the easy route in terms of reviling the protagonist, or extracting disingenuous sympathy towards him, but rather allowing everything to develop naturally. The simplicity of David Golder is also a pivotal part of its success, with its outright refusal to complicate matters allowing the central plot to flourish on its own, conveying its harrowing message earnestly and with absolute precision.

David Golder is notan easy film by any means, but is absolutely a worthwhile social drama that digs deep into some issues that are still remarkably resonant by today’s standards, nearly a century since this film was made. Beautifully poetic in its exploration of some serious themes, such as those of the volatility of wealth and the inevitability of loneliness should your entire life depend on material possession, the film challenges socio-cultural conventions in quite a revolutionary way, showing that wealth may be something the vast majority of us aspire to, but it means next to nothing if one hasn’t found that inner happiness that can’t be extracted from anything material. Duvivier’s demonstration of careful restraint allows the film to venture into unchartered territory and deliver one of the most touching manifestos on the tenacity of the human spirit ever committed to film. Anything that can begin with calling its main character “a scoundrel”, and by the end have the audience collectively shattered by his sad demise, and remaining entirely authentic throughout, is worth talking about, and David Golder does just this, creating an unforgettable drama that deconstructs some sacrosanct themes and reinterprets them in a way that shows the impenetrable humanity lurking just out of sight in stories like this. In short, Duvivier made a masterful drama that is ambitious enough to go to the fringes of the human condition, but rational enough to keep it entirely genuine – and for that reason alone, this is an undeniably brilliant work of complex social drama, life itself condensed into a single coherent narrative that provokes thoughts, stir emotions and leaves us utterly exhilarated.