I viewed an incomplete and damaged print of this Swedish film. A private collector gave me temporary access to his collection, and this movie's numeric title piqued my curiosity. This print had Danish intertitles replacing the original Swedish titles.
This movie's premise is quite similar to that of Rene Clair's film "Le Million", made in France a few years later. But that was a breezy comedy, whilst "33.333" is more earnestly realistic.
Since this is a silent movie, and I never heard the dialogue spoken, I can't say how this movie's title should be pronounced. The collector referred to this movie in my presence once as "Tre tre tre" ("3.3.3") and once as "Fem tre" (Five threes). Here goes:
The film takes place in Stockholm, apparently before the Great War (circa 1911). Three men, with little money between them, pool their funds to buy a lottery ticket. These men are shoemaker Lukas Ferm (Fritz Strandberg), a nightclub employee named Slinken (Fredrik Hedlund) and handsome young poet Tore Kramer (Einar Hanson). The lottery ticket which they purchase is number 33.333. (Now you know.) Slinken and Kramer decide to entrust Ferm with the ticket's safe-keeping. Ferm is a hard-working family man with a domineering wife; he knows she'll get angry if she learns that he wasted money on a lottery ticket. So, to keep the ticket safe and keep his wife from finding it, he hides the ticket in one of the many shoes in his cordwainer's shop.
Nobody ever made a movie about a *losing* lottery ticket, so there are no prizes for guessing that this ticket wins the grand prize of 300,000 kronar: even if split three ways, this is a fortune in the pre-war economy: certainly a windfall for an impoverished shoemaker.
And speaking of impoverished shoemakers: shortly before the lottery drawing, into Ferm's shop comes rival shoemaker Pettersohn (Nils Lundell), who needs some shoe leather ... and so he decides to borrow it from Ferm without Ferm's permission. Hmmm...
When the winning number is drawn, Ferm can't find the ticket. Of course he panics twice over: because the ticket is gone, and because he knows that Slinken and Kramer will suspect that he's keeping the ticket (and the winnings) all for himself.
The last reel of this film was missing from the print I viewed, but apparently all ends happily. I was annoyed that this movie's script and direction seem to cultivate more audience sympathy for handsome young Kramer than for his two partners, older working-class men. SLIGHT SPOILER NOW: And anyway, it turns out that Kramer's father (Nils Arehn) is a prosperous businessman, so Tore Kramer doesn't need the money as badly as the other men do.
Most of the actors here give realistic performances. I found the sets in this film absolutely fascinating: not merely the very realistic interiors for Lukas Ferm's shop and his humble family residence, but also the much more flashy settings in the nightclub where Slinken is employed, the Golden Flute. (Its name refers to champagne flutes, not flautists.) Some of the frame compositions are very impressive.
Einar Hanson, this film's handsome leading man, gives a portrayal here that's excellent by the standards of silent-film technique. After appearing in Mauritz Stiller's film "The Joyless Street", which featured Asta Nielsen and Greta Garbo, handsome Hanson was brought to Hollywood in the late silent era. His promising career ended with his death in a road accident, a few months before "The Jazz Singer" premiered. I can't help wondering if Hanson, a photogenic and talented young actor with a strong Swedish accent, would have weathered the transition into Hollywood talkies. More likely, he would've had a career curve similar to that of his slightly older compatriot Lars Hanson (probably no relation), another handsome talented Swede who found stardom in silent-era Hollywood but whose voice was unsuitable for American audiences.
I'm reluctant to rate "33.333" since I viewed an incomplete print, but what I saw impressed me sufficiently to rate this movie a cautious 7 out of 10.
This movie's premise is quite similar to that of Rene Clair's film "Le Million", made in France a few years later. But that was a breezy comedy, whilst "33.333" is more earnestly realistic.
Since this is a silent movie, and I never heard the dialogue spoken, I can't say how this movie's title should be pronounced. The collector referred to this movie in my presence once as "Tre tre tre" ("3.3.3") and once as "Fem tre" (Five threes). Here goes:
The film takes place in Stockholm, apparently before the Great War (circa 1911). Three men, with little money between them, pool their funds to buy a lottery ticket. These men are shoemaker Lukas Ferm (Fritz Strandberg), a nightclub employee named Slinken (Fredrik Hedlund) and handsome young poet Tore Kramer (Einar Hanson). The lottery ticket which they purchase is number 33.333. (Now you know.) Slinken and Kramer decide to entrust Ferm with the ticket's safe-keeping. Ferm is a hard-working family man with a domineering wife; he knows she'll get angry if she learns that he wasted money on a lottery ticket. So, to keep the ticket safe and keep his wife from finding it, he hides the ticket in one of the many shoes in his cordwainer's shop.
Nobody ever made a movie about a *losing* lottery ticket, so there are no prizes for guessing that this ticket wins the grand prize of 300,000 kronar: even if split three ways, this is a fortune in the pre-war economy: certainly a windfall for an impoverished shoemaker.
And speaking of impoverished shoemakers: shortly before the lottery drawing, into Ferm's shop comes rival shoemaker Pettersohn (Nils Lundell), who needs some shoe leather ... and so he decides to borrow it from Ferm without Ferm's permission. Hmmm...
When the winning number is drawn, Ferm can't find the ticket. Of course he panics twice over: because the ticket is gone, and because he knows that Slinken and Kramer will suspect that he's keeping the ticket (and the winnings) all for himself.
The last reel of this film was missing from the print I viewed, but apparently all ends happily. I was annoyed that this movie's script and direction seem to cultivate more audience sympathy for handsome young Kramer than for his two partners, older working-class men. SLIGHT SPOILER NOW: And anyway, it turns out that Kramer's father (Nils Arehn) is a prosperous businessman, so Tore Kramer doesn't need the money as badly as the other men do.
Most of the actors here give realistic performances. I found the sets in this film absolutely fascinating: not merely the very realistic interiors for Lukas Ferm's shop and his humble family residence, but also the much more flashy settings in the nightclub where Slinken is employed, the Golden Flute. (Its name refers to champagne flutes, not flautists.) Some of the frame compositions are very impressive.
Einar Hanson, this film's handsome leading man, gives a portrayal here that's excellent by the standards of silent-film technique. After appearing in Mauritz Stiller's film "The Joyless Street", which featured Asta Nielsen and Greta Garbo, handsome Hanson was brought to Hollywood in the late silent era. His promising career ended with his death in a road accident, a few months before "The Jazz Singer" premiered. I can't help wondering if Hanson, a photogenic and talented young actor with a strong Swedish accent, would have weathered the transition into Hollywood talkies. More likely, he would've had a career curve similar to that of his slightly older compatriot Lars Hanson (probably no relation), another handsome talented Swede who found stardom in silent-era Hollywood but whose voice was unsuitable for American audiences.
I'm reluctant to rate "33.333" since I viewed an incomplete print, but what I saw impressed me sufficiently to rate this movie a cautious 7 out of 10.