If you’ve ever gone down a late-night rabbit hole looking for the weirdest career moves in cinema history, you eventually hit a wall named Schöner Gigolo, armer Gigolo. Better known as the just a gigolo movie, this 1978 West German drama is the kind of fever dream that shouldn’t exist, yet it features some of the biggest icons of the 20th century. We are talking about David Bowie’s first leading role after The Man Who Fell to Earth and, shockingly, the final film appearance of the legendary Marlene Dietrich.
It’s a mess. Honestly, even Bowie called it his "32 Elvis Presley movies rolled into one."
But there’s something fascinating about why it failed so spectacularly. Set in post-WWI Berlin, the film attempts to capture the cynical, decadent, and desperate atmosphere of the Weimar Republic. It’s got champagne, Nazis in their infancy, street brawls, and a lot of very stiff acting. People still hunt this movie down today, not because it’s a masterpiece—it definitely isn't—but because it represents a specific, chaotic moment in pop culture history where art house ambition crashed into commercial reality.
What Exactly Happens in the Just a Gigolo Movie?
The plot follows Paul von Przygodski, played by Bowie. Paul is a Prussian officer returning home from the Great War. The problem? The world he knew is gone. His family home is a boarding house, his father is paralyzed, and his mother (played by Maria Schell) is scraping by. He has no skills for the civilian world. He's basically a ghost wandering through a city that's quickly losing its mind.
Eventually, he realizes his only real asset is his physical appearance and his uniform. He gets recruited by Baroness von Semering into a "regiment" of gigolos who work out of a high-end hotel.
It’s grim.
The movie tries to balance slapstick comedy with the horrific rise of the Nazi party. One minute Paul is accidentally joining a political rally, and the next he’s in a tuxedo being fondled by wealthy widows. David Hemmings, who directed the film (and also stars as a creepy paramilitary leader), seemed to be aiming for something like Cabaret but ended up with something far more disjointed.
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The pacing is strange. You’ll have a long, lingering shot of Bowie looking ethereal and bored, followed by a sudden burst of frantic energy. It’s a tonal rollercoaster that leaves most viewers feeling a bit dizzy.
The Marlene Dietrich Factor: A Reclusive Legend's Final Bow
The biggest "get" for the just a gigolo movie wasn't actually Bowie. It was Marlene Dietrich. She hadn't been on screen in nearly 20 years. By 1978, she was a recluse in Paris, and she absolutely did not want to be filmed.
So, how did they get her? Money. Lots of it.
Reports suggest she was paid $250,000 for two days of work. Here is the kicker: she never even met David Bowie. Not once. She refused to travel to Berlin, so her scenes were filmed in Paris. Hemmings had to use clever editing—or what passed for it in the late 70s—to make it look like she and Bowie were in the same room. If you watch the scene where she sings the title song, "Just a Gigolo," you can see the seams. She’s behind a veil, draped in black, looking like a haunting relic of the era she helped define.
It’s a bittersweet performance. She looks frail but carries that unmistakable Dietrich gravity. When she sings, you hear the history of 1920s Berlin in her voice. It's the only part of the movie that feels truly authentic, even if it was technically a total fabrication of the editing room.
Why David Bowie Hated This Film
Bowie was in his "Berlin Period" when this was shot. He was living in the city with Iggy Pop, trying to get clean and reinventing music with the Berlin Trilogy (Low, "Heroes", and Lodger). He was thin, pale, and incredibly fashionable. On paper, he was the perfect choice to play a hollowed-out Prussian soldier.
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But the production was a nightmare.
Bowie later remarked that he did it as a favor to Hemmings, but the script was constantly changing. He felt like he was being used as a prop rather than an actor. In interviews years later, he was famously dismissive of it. He told NME that it was his "most embarrassing" moment.
- The movie premiered in Berlin to terrible reviews.
- It was pulled from theaters almost immediately.
- Editors hacked it down from 147 minutes to roughly 105 minutes for international release.
- The English dubbing was notoriously poor.
The irony is that Bowie’s "stiff" performance actually works if you view Paul as a man suffering from severe PTSD. He’s supposed to be a blank slate. He’s a man who has been emptied out by the war and is just letting the world happen to him. Whether that was intentional acting or just Bowie being miserable on set is a debate fans still have.
The Visuals: A Saving Grace?
If you can ignore the clunky dialogue and the weird pacing, the just a gigolo movie is actually quite beautiful to look at. The cinematography by Charly Steinberger captures that sepia-toned, tobacco-stained look of 1920s Germany.
The costumes are impeccable. From the tattered military uniforms to the opulent evening wear of the "regiment," the film looks expensive. It captures the "dancing on the edge of a volcano" vibe that defined the era. You see the contrast between the bread lines and the ballrooms.
There’s a specific scene involving a funeral that is genuinely darkly comic and well-shot. It shows the absurdity of the political climate at the time—where a man’s body becomes a prop for whichever political party gets to it first. It’s these flashes of brilliance that make the movie worth a watch for cinephiles, despite its reputation.
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The Music and the Legacy
The soundtrack is a weird mix. You have the titular song covered by Dietrich, but you also have contributions from The Manhattan Transfer and even some polka music. It doesn’t have the cohesive, electric feel of a Bowie soundtrack. In fact, Bowie didn't contribute any original music to the film, which was a huge disappointment to fans at the time.
So, why does the just a gigolo movie matter now?
It matters because it’s a time capsule. It represents the end of the "Old Hollywood" era (Dietrich) colliding with the "New Rock" era (Bowie). It’s a bridge between two worlds. It also shows the risks people were willing to take in the 70s—the kind of big-budget, weird-as-hell experimental dramas that rarely get made today.
Today, you can find various cuts of the film on Blu-ray or streaming. The "Director’s Cut" restores some of the political subtext that was ripped out for the US release. Watching it now, it feels less like a "bad movie" and more like a misunderstood art piece that just couldn't find its footing.
How to Approach Watching It
If you’re going to sit down and watch this, don’t expect Labyrinth or The Prestige. Go into it expecting a surreal, slow-burn character study.
- Watch the restored version. The shortened US theatrical cut is incoherent.
- Pay attention to the background. The extras and the set design tell more of the story than the dialogue.
- Context is key. Read up on the Weimar Republic before you dive in. It makes the "political" humor actually land.
The film serves as a reminder that even the most talented people in the world can't always save a project with a muddled vision. But in that failure, there is something deeply human and, honestly, kind of beautiful.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Collectors
If you're looking to experience this piece of cinema history, follow these steps to get the most out of it:
- Seek out the 2019/2020 Remastered Editions: Several boutique labels have released the film with high-definition transfers. These versions usually include the "Extended" or "Original German" cuts, which provide much-needed narrative flow that was missing from 1980s VHS releases.
- Compare the Dubbing: If possible, watch the version with the original German audio (with subtitles). The English dubbing often strips away the nuance of Bowie’s performance and makes the secondary characters sound like caricatures.
- Research the "Berlin Trilogy": To understand Bowie's headspace during filming, listen to his 1977 album "Heroes". The themes of isolation and the "wall" are mirrored in his portrayal of Paul.
- Check Specialty Streamers: This isn't usually on the big platforms like Netflix. Look toward BFI Player, MUBI, or specialized cult cinema apps where the "Director's Cut" is more likely to be hosted.