Introduction 171 You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene Laura Detre West Chester University Abstract: Peter Lorre’s film, Der Verlorene (1951), was one of the first to take a critical view of the Nazi period in the post-war era. He used his extensive knowledge of the crime thriller, a genre that was largely absent from German film in the early 1950s, to examine the impact of Nazism on German society. In effect, he told a story about a mundane killing, but that crime, and the events that followed, were symbolic of the ways that the Nazi regime turned average Germans into murderers. Today the film stands as an interesting artifact of the postwar era, reflecting the anger and anxiety that victims of Nazism had toward a region that was rapidly distancing itself from a troubling past but not yet ready to examine what that history meant for the present and the future. Keywords: Peter Lorre, Film Noir, Crime Thriller, Post-War Era, Survival, Guilt, Anger Today Peter Lorre is best known as the bug-eyed character actor who appeared in numerous thriller and suspense films from the 1930s to his death in the mid- 1960s, but in the early 1950s Lorre was at a crossroads both personally and professionally and looking for new opportunities. In 1951 he made his one and only foray into directing, the German film Der Verlorene . Essentially a film noir (the genre with which Lorre was most closely associated,) this film focused on Dr. Karl Rothe, a scientist working for the Nazi regime. When he discovers that he has been betrayed both romantically and professionally by his fiancé, Dr. Rothe murders her, revealing a side of his personality that had remained submerged to this point. Lorre’s film was one of the first to take a critical view of the Nazi period in the postwar era. He used his extensive knowledge of the crime thriller, a genre that was largely absent from German film in the early 1950s, to examine the impact of Nazism on German society. In effect, he told a 172 Laura Detre story about a fairly mundane murder, but that murder, and the events that followed, were symbolic of the ways that the Nazi regime turned average Germans into murderers. Peter Lorre made a career in crime film, starting with his debut in the 1931 Fritz Lang film M . It was a genre that suited him well—his physical presence was not that of a typical leading man and he had a gift for understanding the psychology of the social outcasts whom he so often portrayed. This talent was established early in Lorre’s career when he worked with noted psychiatrist Jacob L. Moreno, the founder of psychodrama, and then nurtured when Lorre became a member of Bertolt Brecht’s ensemble, starring as Galy Gay in the first production of Mann ist Mann (Thomas 15). Lorre had high hopes for his career, both on the stage and in film, but global politics conspired against him and he was forced out of German-language productions by the rise of the Nazi regime. After making a handful of French films, Lorre made his English-language film debut in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1934 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much � The combined success of M and The Man Who Knew Too Much meant that when Peter Lorre arrived in Los Angeles in 1935 he was already reasonably well known to American audiences. Cementing his reputation as a sinister figure, his first U. S. film to be released in theaters was the horror thriller Mad Love. 1 With a few exceptions, the rest of Lorre’s career was spent playing psychotics and criminals, most of whom harbored the potential for murder. This was both a blessing and a curse—the late 1930s into the 1950s was a golden age for American crime films. This era saw the birth of film noir and Lorre was inextricably tied to the genre. Throughout the 1940s Lorre found regular work, particularly when he was under contract at Warner Bros., and most of his roles were in crime dramas, the genre most associated with the Warner Bros. studio. Lorre’s fortunes began to change after the war, for a number of reasons. During World War II and in the run-up to the war studios had been eager to hire many of the émigré actors, directors, and other film professionals who arrived in Hollywood. When the war ended, and particularly after studios stopped making topical films dealing with the Nazis and the war in Europe, many of these émigrés were released from their contracts and struggled to find work. Peter Lorre was no exception. Studio heads were eager, or at least willing, to cast him when they needed a sinister European in their latest war drama, but they were less interested in him as film began to focus on domestic American issues. Lorre’s film begins in a DP camp near Hamburg. We immediately meet Dr. Neumeister, played by Lorre, and follow him as he treats the residents of the camp. The doctor is vaccinating patients in the camp when his new assistant, a man calling himself Nowak, arrives and unsettles the doctor. He flees from the clinic and anxiously walks alongside a train track as a train approaches. You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene 173 Neumeister later returns to the camp where he meets with Nowak over drinks. The two reminisce, and Neumeister starts to tell Nowak the story of how he ended up at the DP camp. The scene switches to a flashback, in which we see Neumeister, then known as Dr. Karl Rothe, at work in his lab, assisted by Nowak who went by the name Hösch. The two are discussing their previous work with the now-deceased Colonel Winkler and it is clear that Dr. Rothe’s research is important to the Nazi regime. After Winkler leaves the lab Hösch pulls Rothe aside to discuss the doctor’s girlfriend, Inge Hermann. Hösch asserts that Hermann is a spy and that she has been using her relationship with Dr. Rothe to gain access to his research and transmitting vital information to the Allies. Hösch makes it clear that Rothe should end the relationship, as it compromises their work. Rothe then heads home, where we learn that his girlfriend is also the daughter of his landlady and that they all live together in the same apartment. He confronts Hermann about her betrayals and, after a long discussion, mostly off-camera, things seem to be resolved to both parties’ satisfaction. But when Hermann begins to flirt with Rothe, he strangles her to death, an act that seems out of character for the intellectual doctor. This incident, understandably, transforms Rothe. He is initially stunned by his own actions but quickly comes to realize that no one suspects his involvement in the crime. Additionally, other than Inge’s own mother, no one particularly mourns the loss of the young woman, so life goes on as normal. Frau Hermann rents Inge’s room to a young woman named Ursula Weber and Rothe begins to grow close to her. At the same time, Rothe continues to carry Hermann’s necklace in his jacket pocket and fondles it whenever he is feeling unsettled about events. He wanders the streets at night, menacing a prostitute who claims to see murder in his face. At this point he throws away Inge’s necklace, perhaps trying to rid himself of ties to this tragic event, but to no avail. Later that night he boards a train and is engaged in conversation by a gregarious woman who laments not having a man around, due to the war. When the air raid sirens go off the other passengers evacuate the train, but Rothe and the buxom woman remain behind. She continues to flirt with him, but this enrages him, as she reminds him of the disingenuous Inge, and he murders the nameless woman, leaving her body to be discovered by train passengers when the all clear is issued. With this second killing Rothe has crossed a line and his personality seems permanently altered. He could justify Inge’s murder to himself, saying that she was a traitor and that her love for him had not been genuine. The stranger on the train, however, had committed no such transgression. She was an innocent woman who had only wanted an uncomplicated relationship with a convenient man, but she meant him no harm. By killing her, Rothe has been transformed into an irredeemable murderer. He returns to his laboratory, where he burns all 174 Laura Detre of his research notes and takes the pistol that Hösch had hidden in a drawer. Then, in a somewhat bizarre turn of events he arrives at Colonel Winkler’s villa with the intention of murdering Winkler for turning him against Inge, but finds that the house is quite busy. He overhears an officer enter the house with a password and then uses that password himself to gain entry. Inside he finds a political conspiracy—we are never made privy to the ultimate goal, but these scenes certainly make the viewer think of Claus von Stauffenberg and the conspiracy to kill Adolf Hitler. Rothe first stays with the conspirators, then drives frantically through the streets of Hamburg to a rendezvous that never happens. Eventually, several of the plotters are shot by the authorities. Rothe returns to Magdalenenstrasse, where he had lived with Frau Hermann and Inge, but when he arrives he realizes that their apartment building has fallen victim to the previous night’s bombings. At this point Rothe seizes on an opportunity to leave behind his old identity. He adds his name to the list, on a nearby chalkboard, of those who died in the bombing, allowing him to leave behind his old life and attempt to move forward with a new life. The film ends with Dr. Rothe shooting Hösch after the latter mocked the doctor’s story. He then walks to the same train tracks that we saw him walk alongside at the beginning of the film. Here Dr. Rothe stands in place, casually smoking a cigarette, as a train approaches him from behind, and he is presumably killed. There are many reasons why Peter Lorre became interested in directing a German-language film in the late 1940s. The war’s conclusion made it possible for him to return to Europe and had diminished Hollywood studio executives’ interest in Central European performers. Lorre had been a contract player for Warner Bros. during the war, but the arrangement was never a comfortable one. Lorre was pulled between his new friendship with Humphrey Bogart, arguably the studio’s most important star, and his long-standing relationship with playwright Bertolt Brecht who arrived in California in 1941 (Youngkin 286). Lorre still held out hope that he would be cast as a leading man and the studio made some attempts in that direction, paring him with Sydney Greenstreet in a handful of noir films, but overall Lorre felt constrained within the Hollywood studio system. There is another way in which Warner Bros. may have disappointed Lorre. As Sarah Thomas notes, there was a clause in his contract with the studio that allowed the option to direct one film per year. Warner Bros. never invoked this option and this may have played a role in the actor’s disillusionment with Hollywood (117). He had always wanted to play more significant roles in more artful films (as well as expressing interest in returning to more prestigious stage work) but the studios Lorre worked for never gave him those opportunities. This failure to progress in his career caused Lorre to fall back into destructive behavioral patterns. Beginning in 1925, Lorre had struggled with morphine addiction and his career disappointments in the postwar period may have contributed to his relapse and his overuse of the drug. The stress of work also exacerbated growing fractures in Lorre’s marriage to Karen Verne. A second marriage for both, the couple pinned a great deal of hope on having a child together and their failure to achieve this goal drove a wedge between them that would ultimately lead to their separation and divorce (Thomas 304). Added to this mix of disappointments, Lorre also found himself in a tricky political situation in postwar America. Although he had been fairly apolitical, Lorre had ties to many artists with leftist beliefs and this made him vulnerable to anti-Communist forces both in the government and within the entertainment industry. He was never called to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee ( HUAC ) (although that may just have been a question of timing) but he was certainly the topic of suspicion, not just for his ties to Brecht but also because he was connected with American actors, such as Bogart, who took strong stands against what they saw as government overreach (Thomas 296). This combination of personal and professional setbacks drove Lorre both into greater and greater drug use and away from Hollywood, which he blamed for the majority of his problems. After declaring bankruptcy, he made his way to Europe (Thomas 309). 2 Lorre certainly needed a change from the Southern California culture that Brecht felt so strongly was sapping his friend’s artistry, but it was not at all clear that the actor set off for Europe with the intention of directing a feature film. His first step was a ten-week tour of Great Britain, which was, by all accounts, a great success as he was received enthusiastically by British audiences. He then proceeded to meet his wife at Dr. Wiggers Kurheim in Garmisch-Partenkirchen for what was intended to be a period of relaxation and a chance to repair their crumbling marriage. Quickly though, their stay devolved into another stint in drug rehabilitation for him and contributed to the end of their relationship. Karen left to find work on her own and Lorre began to think about what his next project would be (Thomas 313). 3 As a film, Der Verlorene is a classic example of film noir. Most of the action takes place at night and in locations where respectable people would not want to be seen. There is a femme fatale, as well as other women of dubious morals, who work on the psyche of the protagonist. That protagonist also fits the definition of a film noir antihero—he gives the appearance of being an unprepossessing physician, but we the viewers know that he is hiding a terrible secret. Finally, at no point in the film is there any suggestion that things could end well for our central character. What sets Lorre’s film apart from the other films noir of the period was the setting. While film noir derived from German Expressionism and many Central You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene 175 176 Laura Detre European directors perfected the genre in the United States, there are few examples of true film noir in German-language film. Some scholars argue that the film that introduced Lorre to international audiences, Fritz Lang’s M is a film noir, but it is missing a few noir elements, such as a femme fatale. Perhaps noir would have developed in Germany in the following years, but the rise of the Nazi regime stunted the film industry. Many talented filmmakers left the country and those who remained were hamstrung by the demands of the government. Films that depicted, and, in some cases, glorified the criminal underworld were not something that the Nazis were eager to fund. Consequently, the genre did not develop in Central Europe. In the postwar period there were films noir made about Central Europe and even some, such as The Third Man , made in the region, but none made by German-speaking filmmakers. Der Verlorene is one of the few, if not the only, film noir made in Germany by a Central European cast and crew in the 1950s. Some might argue that it belongs in the category of Trümmerfilm, the film genre perhaps most closely associated with the period immediately after the end of the Second World War. As Amanda Z. Randall notes, “German film critics first coined the term Trümmerfilm to describe films set among the ruins of bombed-out Berlin and other German cities, expressing a German affect of loss rather than German politics. But by 1947 the term had taen on a pejorative connotation, once audiences tired of their prototypically dark aesthetic and heavy-handed moralizing” (Randall 576). Lorre’s film is undoubtedly dark and clearly moralizing, but there are several things that keep this film out of the category of Trümmerfilm . The first is timing— Der Verlorene was released in 1951 and Trümmerfilm as a genre is really associated with the second half of the 1940s. By the time Lorre finished his film Germany was recovering and the Wirtschaftswunder was on the horizon. More importantly, Der Verlorene is different in tone from the Trümmerfilm that preceeded it. Many of those films took the position that World War II , and by extension the Holocaust, were catastrophies that befell the German people. The best example may be the 1946 film Die Mörder sind unter uns . This film, like Der Verlorene , is about a doctor struggling to cope with his new reality after the war, but the message of the two films are decidedly different. In Die Mörder sind unter uns , Dr. Hans Mertens, a good man who is haunted by the crimes that he has witnessed, is determined to take action to right the wrongs of the past when he discovers that his former commander has survived the war. In Der Verlorene , Peter Lorre depicts Dr. Karl Neumeister (an alias filled with meaning) as a broken man, not particularly interested in addressing past wrongs but instead simply going through the motions of a normal life while silently wracked with guilt. Both men are disturbed, but Neumeister is a clear antihero, whereas Mertens symbolizes the good German, victimized by a minority of monsters. Gerd Gemünden highlighted the differences between these two films, stating “ Der Verlorene comes across as far less conciliatory and forward-looking, squarely refusing then-common gestures of vergeben, vergessen, verdrängen (forgiving, forgetting, repressing)” (336). He goes on to say that Lorre’s film is far more pessimistic than the Trümmerfilm with which he compares it and that it lacks the hopefulness of a forward-looking Stunde Null. What most academics and critics have missed about Der Verlorene is that Lorre’s vision of postwar Germany goes beyond just pessimism. There is a layer of anger seething through the whole work. Anger is a somewhat common characteristic in Lorre’s characters. We certainly see it in characters such as Hilary Cummings in The Beast With Five Fingers and Janos Szabo in The Face Behind the Mask, but the ire that pervades Der Verlorene is not just the affectation of an actor playing a role. This is the very real anger of a man who was on the cusp of greatness and had his whole world turned upside-down by the murderous impulses of his fellow countrymen. This is not Dr. Rothe’s rage we see on the screen, but rather that of Peter Lorre himself. Sarah Thomas has written extensively about Der Verlorene in her book, Peter Lorre: Face Maker . She challenges the assessment of the film as a reflection of Lorre’s feelings about his emigrant status. Instead, she shows how Lorre used his well-established screen persona and its association with murderers and psychopaths as a tool to investigate the nature of violence in the Nazi regime (125). But it is possible to view the film through both the lens of Lorre’s personal biography and also as an examination of the everyday evils of Nazism. A great deal of attention is paid to Lorre’s status as an emigrant artist, but critics sometimes forget the reasons for his emigration. He was not, like Marlene Dietrich, a gentile whose conscience would not allow him to work within a political system that they found repellent. He was a Jew, who like many other refugees of the period, had little choice about the path that he had to take. It is easy to forget this fact, since he was not a religious person and did not always self-identify as a Jew, but the fact remains that had it not been for the rise of Nazism and its anti-Semitic laws, Peter Lorre would have had a very different life. His career was disrupted by Nazi anti-Semitism, he was forced into a migration that he was certainly not ready to undertake at exactly that moment, but that was not the end of Lorre’s distress. Perhaps even more importantly, he was separated from his family with the very real threat that they would be murdered. When he came to the United States, Peter Lorre left behind his father, stepmother, and two brothers in Budapest. His younger brother, Francis, reported that after the collapse of the Miklos Horthy regime in 1944 the family found themselves in grave danger. Their father, Alois, was sent to a Hungarian forced labor camp, their grandfather and aunt were taken away by the Gestapo, another aunt was You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene 177 178 Laura Detre sent on a forced march to Auschwitz, and their grandmother attempted suicide, prompted by their stressful family situation (Youngkin 234). Add to that the fact that Lorre’s image, in clips from M , was used in the Nazi propaganda film Der Ewige Jude to represent the archetype of the murderous Jew. By 1951, Peter Lorre had reunited with his family, but the knowledge of what had happened to them as well as his understanding of how Nazi anti-Semitism had shaped his own life influenced the way he viewed Central Europe. Thomas also challenges the idea that Lorre’s career was defined by his relationship with Brecht. This is not to say that Brecht was not a major influence on the Lorre. The two friends were close and it is possible to find many ways in which the playwright swayed the actor and vice versa. However, one could easily say that Lorre was impacted as greatly or even more so by his collaboration with Jacob L. Moreno (Thomas 18). As Moreno’s widow, Zerka, told Lorre biographer Stephen Youngkin, “there is little doubt that Moreno was one of the sources of his awareness of human psychology and its role in acting” (18). As an actor, particularly in the mid-twentieth century, Lorre was exceptionally well versed in psychology and brought that understanding of the human mind to all of his roles. This emphasis on the psyche of his characters influenced Lorre as a director. Dr. Rothe is not only a disturbed individual who carries out despicable acts, but he also is conscious of his failings. This understanding of his moral lapses drives him to despair (and in some cases further acts of evil.) By contrast, Hösch appears to be an amoral figure who is not conscious of the implications of his actions. Hösch never questions his past. He represents the unrepentant German who not only fails to atone for Nazi atrocities but who may silently still believe that genocide was justified. Dr. Rothe, on the other hand, is not only an intellectual, but he examines his feelings and his reactions to events. He is tormented by his past and feels that he deserves to be punished. Rothe is the redeemable German, the one who understands that there is guilt to go around in the aftermath of the Holocaust, but does not see a path forward. It is not even too much of a stretch of the imagination to picture Dr. Rothe in therapy, discussing his troubled past, but since that option was not available the character takes the only action he feels will set things right and commits suicide after killing Hösch. At no point is the word Holocaust used or is the genocide even alluded to in euphemistic terms, but that is to be expected for the early 1950s. The murder of Europe’s Jews by the Nazis and their allies was not generally referred to as the Holocaust until the 1960s and was rarely a subject of academic interest, let alone popular culture, until the broadcast of the American television miniseries Holocaust in 1978. Lorre did not have the vocabulary or a willing audience to address the Shoah in 1951, but he did have personal feelings on the subject, as did all victims of Nazi persecution, and he clearly believed that the German public had some soul-searching to do. Lorre himself identified the Guy de Maupassant story La Horla as the inspiration for his film, but, while it may have been the director’s initial source, his final film is far from the early horror classic. De Maupassant’s story (which also inspired H. P. Lovecraft’s Call of Cthulhu ) is the story of a man who is driven mad by a supernatural creature, eventually determining that either he or the creature (or both) must die in order to end the torment. The idea of a man who is plagued by madness and prepared to take drastic actions to end his suffering is certainly a part of Der Verlorene , but Lorre is not genuinely suggesting that Nazi evil was the result of supernatural possession. He was well aware of the story, having performed it just a few years earlier on the 1947 radio series Mystery in the Air , but Lorre was also infamous for telling interviewers exactly what they wanted to hear. It would have been out of character for Lorre to have told a reporter that his film was about German guilt and that it was an indictment of the whole society, not just of those who had been involved in genocide. Also, the Maupassant story shared this emphasis on psychology (a term that would not have been known to Maupassant himself.) Both main characters are aware that they have lost control and behaved with uncharacteristic violence. Each of them might have benefitted from psychological therapy, but lived in contexts that made that impossible. They both saw themselves as a threat to their communities and ultimately ended their lives both as punishment and to protect those around them. Many people involved with the production of Der Verlorene had either been émigrés in the United States or Great Britain during the Nazi period, or had been open opponents of the regime from the inside. Lorre wrote the story upon which the film is based, but he collaborated with Axel Eggebrecht to create the screenplay. Eggebrecht is an interesting figure in media history as he had a varied career, working on many influential projects. He also had a, quite frankly, bizarre personal political history, having participated in the 1920 Kapp Putsch, a right-wing monarchist and nationalist attempt to overthrow the newly formed Weimar Republic. By 1923 he identified as a Communist and travelled to the Soviet Union. Once there, he became disillusioned with Bolshevism, but he remained somewhat committed to left-wing causes. In 1925 he began working as an assistant director at UFA and then moved toward journalism and film criticism. By 1933, he ran afoul of the new Nazi regime and spent several months in the Hainewalde concentration camp. After that, Eggebrecht had difficulty finding work, but eventually he was able to write again, this time working on screenplays. He was particularly associated with director Willi Forst and wrote some of his most famous films, including Bel Ami , Operette , and Wiener Blut � In You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene 179 180 Laura Detre 1945 Eggebrecht turned his attention back to journalism and helped to found the Nordwestdeutsche Rundfunk ( NWDR ). Another veteran of Willi Forst’s films to work on Der Verlorene was composer Willy Schmidt-Gentner. Schmidt-Gentner was a logical choice for Lorre’s film in that he was perhapas the foremost film composer in Central Europe at the time, but unlike both Lorre and Eggebrecht, there was no hint of rebellion against the Nazi regime in his resume. Schmidt-Gentner had joined the NSDAP in 1933 and left the party in 1934, but that was because he relocated to Vienna, not because he had a crisis of conscience. He was responsible for composing the music for many of Willi Forst’s biggest hits, including Operette and Wiener Blut , but he was also involved with several of the most notorious propaganda films made in post-Anschluss Austria, such as the Paula Wessely vehicle Heimkehr and the anti-Semitic film Wien 1910 . His work history stands in stark contrast with that of Peter Lorre but also with the life and work of the film’s producer, Arnold Pressburger. Pressburger was a renowned independent producer. He was perhaps best known for producing the early films of Michael Curtiz (then Mihály Kertész) including Sodom und Gomorrah and Die Sklavenkönigin , but Pressburger worked with a diverse group of directors including Anatole Litvak, Fritz Lang, and Detlef Sierck. After 1937 the Nazi regime dissolved his production company, and Pressburger left for Great Britain and then later the United States. His most noteworthy film in Hollywood was Hangmen Also Die! , Bertolt Brecht’s one attempt at working in Hollywood. Directed by Fritz Lang, the film depicts the aftermath of the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich and was reasonably well-received at the time, earning an Oscar nomination for composer Hanns Eisler. There are most definitely elements of film noir in Hangmen Also Die! and it is reasonable to conclude both that Pressburger brought an understanding from that film to Der Verlorene, but also that Lorre, who was close with Brecht during his exile in California, had extensive knowledge of the production. Lorre had clearly learned much about film noir from his work in the United States and much of the imagery in the film is classic noir, relying heavily on light and shadow to create atmosphere. The whole project has a trans-Atlantic tone, combining Central European talents with an American art form to critique a difficult epoch in German history. This was a message that few people in Central Europe wanted to hear in 1951 and the film was a commercial failure when it debuted. As Stephen Youngkin noted, “tired of ’accusatory’ films, moviegoers thirsted for escape from their problems” (352). This was the era of the Heimatfilm , a genre full of happy rural idylls. German-speaking audiences had had enough of war and death. They wanted escapist entertainment that did not fill them with guilt and this was exactly what those in charge of the German film industry intended to give them. Illustrating this, when Lorre requested that Der Verlorene be submitted as one of two German entries to the Venice Biennale the committee told him that they did not think they would have access to a good print of the film in time for the festival, which was clearly a lie, and they submitted the films Lockende Gefahr and Das doppelte Lottchen (the inspiration for Disney’s film The Parent Trap ) instead (Youngkin 348). Nevertheless, today the film stands as an interesting artifact of the postwar era, reflecting the anger and anxiety that victims of Nazism had toward a region that was rapidly distancing itself from a troubling past but not yet ready to examine what that history meant for the present and the future. Notes 1 Lorre also played the role of Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment that same year, but Mad Love beat Crime and Punishment to theatrical release. The actor had hoped that a romantic leading role, like Raskolnikov, would help him to escape typecasting, but it was not to be. 2 Lorre had formed his own production company after leaving Warner Bros. and lost a lot of money in the process. 3 Karen eventually traveled to East Berlin to ask about the possibility of joining Brecht’s newly formed Berliner Ensemble. Works Cited Gemünden, Gerd. “16 February 1952. Peter Lorre Leaves Germany Again.” A New History of German Cinema. Ed. Jennifer M. Kapczynski and Michael David Richardson. Rochester, NY : Camden House, 2012. 335—40. Kapczynski, Jennifer M., and Michael David Richardson, eds. A New History of German Cinema. Rochester, NY : Camden House, 2012. Randall, Amanda Z. “Austrian Trümmerfilm? What a Genre’s Absence Reveals about National Postwar Cinema and Film Studies.” German Studies Review 38.3 (2015): 573—95. Thomas, Sarah. Peter Lorre: Face Maker: Constructing Stardom and Performance in Hollywood and Europe. New York: Berghahn Books, 2012. Youngkin, Stephen D. The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre. Lexington, KY : The UP of Kentucky, 2005. You Are the Murderers: German Guilt in Peter Lorre’s Der Verlorene 181