We often tend to think of the Golden Age of Hollywood as being quite a rigid era for filmmaking, where risks were not taken and films were made along very narrow guidelines, based on what could be shown on screen, as decided by the censors whose only reason for existence was to impinge on the artistic liberty of many filmmakers. However, nothing could be further from the truth, and it’s always wonderful to discover a film that not only proves this point but also actively shows how some of the films made during this time were amongst the greatest and most original, setting the foundation for the future of the medium. Death Takes a Holiday is one of the best examples of this concept in practice, with Mitchell Leisen’s adaptation of the play La morte in vacanza by Alberto Casella being one of the defining works of the 1930s, a film that appears quite simple in theory, but has a rich, evocative story and an even more profound execution that immediately situates it as one of the more experimental works made at the time. We don’t often discuss Leisen in the context of being one of the most reliable and consistently interesting filmmakers of the period, but his body of work proves that he was certainly nothing short of a brilliant director, someone who may not have had the strong authorial voice as some of his contemporaries like George Cukor or Howard Hawks, but yet still managed to produce films that were intriguing, well-constructed and nothing short of remarkable in how they take simple concepts and transform them into delightful, captivating productions. Death Takes a Holiday is one of his crowning achievements, an irreverent amalgamation of genre, tone and philosophical complexity that all work in tandem to create an off-kilter but endearing dark comedy with an abundance of soul, which makes for profoundly moving viewing, the likes of which we don’t usually expect from something that seems on the surface to be quite stern and sophisticated.

The aspect of that has most consistently kept Death Takes a Holiday in the conversation around the most intriguing films produced during this era is the ambition of the premise. It is obviously not an original story, having been produced on both the international and American stage for a decade prior to being adapted to film, but the very nature of the story itself is what makes it original, and considering it was likely the first encounter with this premise for most viewers, it served the purpose of bringing this audacious concept to a wider audience. The storyline is effortlessly simple – a group of bourgeois aristocrats make their way to their gorgeous holiday villa, where they are expecting to spend a weekend in luxury, only to discover that they have an unexpected visitor who also intends to take a break from his regular vocation, in the form of Death, who takes on the appearance of the charismatic Prince Sirki. Over the course of a few days, these characters get to know Sirki, gradually learning of his true identity as well as his reasons for deciding to take a holiday, with the family’s young daughter even falling in love with this mysterious visitor, not initially aware of his true nature. It’s a fascinating concept, and one that has formed the foundation for many terrific projects that take a figure as enigmatic as the tangible embodiment of death and insert it into a familiar setting, which in the process evokes many compelling conversations. Death Takes a Holiday is a unique combination of the abstract and the concrete, and while it may not fully explore every possible angle from which we can view this story (which would not have been possible with only 80 minutes), the film is still a remarkably compelling and frequently quite provocative examination of deep philosophical concepts, carefully selected by Leisen and brought to the screen with vigour and genuine curiosity, almost as if he was aiming to answer some of his own existential quandaries in the process.

However, as much as we can praise the conceptual aspects of the film, Death Takes a Holiday is only as good as its execution allows it to be, and this is where the film becomes most intriguing. In his endeavour to create a film that essentially focuses on Death interacting with a group of ordinary people and sampling the earthly delights that have been previously unavailable to him as an abstract entity, Leisen chooses to blend genres and create quite a tonally distinct film that is quite difficult to categorize, which is quite revolutionary for the time in which it was produced. It is often noted as being a romantic melodrama with broad overtures of dark comedy and psychological thriller, which is already a clear indication that this film is not one that necessarily adheres to conventions or has much interest in following traditions. Rather it seems to playfully be manipulating and challenging these same conventions in a way that reveals their innermost complexities, and shows how appearance does not always reflect reality. It is fertile ground for comedy, and it was smart enough to structure this film around some humorous scenarios. However, the film also refuses to trivialize its subject matter, which we soon come to learn is far more important to the identity of the story than the inherent humour that accompanies it. There is a very narrow boundary that the film needs to navigate, and both tonally and narratively it succeeds without any difficulty, and ultimately comes to be defined more by its atmosphere than it is the plot, which adds nuance to what is already seen as quite a simple story. There is a very peculiar tone that propels Death Takes a Holiday, a strange blend of comedy and anxiety, and while this may seem like it is aiming towards a far more bewildering approach, it all makes perfect sense in the context of the story, which Leisen uses to build on the already poignant ideas that exist at the heart of the material, elevating the strange premise into something far more intriguing in terms of both the story and its execution.

One of the more interesting challenges that this film had to face was the decision as to whom to cast in the titular role of Death, in both his abstract form (which is nothing more than a shadow, but who speaks with eloquence and passion), and in the human form, in which he takes the shape of the charismatic Prince Sirki. At the time, Fredric March was arguably one of Hollywood’s most intriguing leading actors, someone whose handsome appearance and debonair demeanour were used to great effect in a range of genres, but who also was not afraid to take risks with the kinds of characters he played, never declining the opportunity to play a more complex individual, granted there some depth to the role. His performance in Death Takes a Holiday is one of his best – it’s a simple assignment in which he has to primarily rely on his charm, as well as the ability to handle the dense dialogue, which would intimidate even the most experienced of actors. March was always willing to take on any challenge, and this film proves that he wasn’t only a terrific actor, but also one that could develop his characters to be more than they appear to be on the surface. There are many fascinating qualities in his performance, as well as those by the rest of the cast, who also deserve to be mentioned – whether Guy Standing as the only person who knows from the start that their family is being visited by death incarnate, or Evelyn Venable as the young woman who foolishly falls in love with this otherworldly entity, or even Henry Travers (one of the defining character actors of his generation) as the wacky family friend who brings a much-needed dose of comedic relief to a sometimes very dense story. The cast of Death Takes a Holiday is compact but effective, and we find ourselves frequently enamoured with these masterful performances that are both intriguing and heartfelt, which isn’t something we may have expected at the outset.

The impact made by Death Takes a Holiday may not be obvious, since it is often viewed as quite a trivial, lightweight film that is entertaining but not particularly impactful, primarily because of the abstract nature of the plot that makes it seem like it lacks depth. This is a completely inaccurate reduction of this film and all of its unique characteristics, which has led to it being re-evaluated as more than just a minor production. It exists in dialogue with the films of Jean Renoir and Luis Buñuel – both of whom were actively working at the time, so one has to wonder whether they were inspired by this film in their later works, specifically The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie and The Exterminating Angel for Buñuel, and The Rules of the Game by Renoir, all of which are invigorating examinations of class as filtered through the lens of abstract comedy – as well as setting quite a solid foundation for many later films that took more offbeat ideas and turned them into masterful productions. A film that doesn’t immediately announce itself as influential, but which any eagle-eyed viewer with some knowledge of film history can see not only captures a very specific tone, but also pays tribute to a more intriguing set of ideas that were rare at the time, Death Takes a Holiday is a triumph – a poetic, meaningful combination of comedy and melodrama, beautifully delivered with nothing but the most sincere attention to detail, the film is fascinating in all the ways that we would anticipate, which creates a deeply moving story of the human condition, one that draws on many sources for inspiration, and in the process sets a precedent for Hollywood producing more abstract works that don’t adhere to conventions, but rather choose new ways of exploring certain themes. There may be more experimental versions of this story, but few are as genuinely moving as this one, which remains one of the more captivating and pioneering experimental dramas of its era.