On Wednesday night, Jacques Rouffio's "La Passante du Sans-Souci" ("The Passerby"), was screened at the Wasserman Cinematheque, courtesy of the National Center for Jewish Film (NCJF). Much was made of the fact that it was the last movie of Austrian actress Romy Schneider, the two-time French Cesar Award winner (for "L'Important c'est aimer" and "L'histoire simple"), having been made shortly before her death in 1982. Indeed, by listening to the short introduction given by members of the NCJF before the film was shown, it seemed as if the only reason for "The Passerby" to be seen was because of this single distinction. Unfortunately, this may very well be the case. "The Passerby," though well-crafted enough, is too weak to carry its own weighty subject.The story begins in modern times, as Max Baumstein (Michel Piccoli, "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie"), the aging President of anti-terrorist organization Solidarity International, is, ironically enough, arrested for the sudden murder of the ambassador of Paraguay (Mathieu Carriaere, of "Magyar rekviem"). At his trial, we are treated to a massive flashback as Max, as well as various figures from his life, come up to the stand to illustrate the events of his younger life and how they led him to commit his crime.

Orphaned and crippled by the Nazis, young Max was taken in as the foster child of Elsa and Michel Wiener (Schneider and Helmut Griem from "Cabaret"), two family friends involved in the publication of anti-Nazi literature. Having sensed trouble was brewing for him, Michel sent Elsa and Max to safety in France just before he was thrown in a concentration camp. It was then up to Elsa to free her husband any way she could - even if that meant giving in to the vile demands of a cruel Nazi officer in order to get what she wanted. Needless to say, this officer turns out to be none other than the Paraguayan ambassador; Max acted only in revenge.

The plot description alone is about all there is to "The Passerby." This is a film which is - for all the ideas flowing through it - hardly layered. The actors seem to go through their actions, hoping that their effort will later come to mean something profound when the film is finished. It ends up instead being like watching fish swim around in an aquarium. A great film would have attempted to play up Elsa's internal struggles, and her moral qualms about the situation. But "The Passerby" rarely dives under the surfaces of the characters.

Schneider certainly tries to convey great emotion, and does a fairly decent job by using her sad, luminous eyes to her advantage, but something seems to be missing from the performance. More often than not, it is clear how she is feeling, but very rarely are her thoughts and motives obvious. In that respect, she is something of a blank slate. The same goes for the others in the film. We are told the German officer wants Elsa. After all, it's clear enough by his immoral proposal that he does, but his desire for her fails to come through. When Elsa is forced to perform at a nightclub to support herself and Max, the officer doesn't even clap for her, but rather sits at his solitary table, sipping wine and emitting serious looks. The motives of everyone involved in "The Passerby" are unclear, and the movie suffers greatly as a result.

As far as essential World War II films go, "The Passerby" does not fall anywhere near the ranks of such excellent films as Spielberg's "Schindler's List" and Truffaut's "The Last Metro." It's simply too weak and too unmemorable to ascend past simple mediocrity. What could have been grounds for an interesting story under other circumstances is dishearteningly hollow.