Don’t think I’m untrue, my only love is you… Don’t be
demanding, be understanding… My only love is you.
In the post-screening Q&A, Stephen Horne revealed the
moments when he could “hear” Louise Brooks’ voice in his head as he played for Pandora’s
Box, piano screen right in NFT2 at the BFI lost in music, film and this
vision with unexpected sound. Brooksie is indeed one of cinema’s greatest naturally
occurring special effects and as Pamela Hutchinson said in the Q&A, the
sheer physicality of her dancer’s control, coupled with extreme intelligence
and beauty draws the audience towards her on so many levels. Acting as
hypnotism, but also as Stephen says, cinema as a haunting.
Prix de Beauté goes from strength to strength every
time I see it especially with Mr Horne’s uncanny sympathy with a film he first
accompanied in Bristol in 2006. This was the 2012 Cineteca di Bologna’s restoration
based on the sole surviving silent copy with muted sections included from the
French sound version filling gaps here and there. It’s a far cry from the “talkie”
version I first experienced and runs at 113 minutes versus the former’s 98; largely
due to a normalised, slower pace. I did attempt to watch both versions at once
for comparison but I soon got too engaged to bother. The two versions are
different though as they were filmed separately with the sound version presenting
a smaller frame as space was given over to the soundtrack so we not only see
more get a longer film, we also see more in it!
The film’s development involved both René Clair and Brooks’
mentor G.W. Pabst – the former developing the script from the latter’s story
with moments of pure cinema originating from both under the eventual direction
of Augusto Genina. Clair’s brilliant closing sequence was envisaged as a silent
and it’s impossible to imagine it working any other way now. Overall, Genina
presents his own “cut”, a visually coherent film and one that has never looked
better, highlighting the work of his ace cameraman, Rudolph Maté who had worked
on Dreyer’s Joan and would go on to collaborate on Vampyr too.
Louise Brooks attracting attention |
The opening section in the public pools has a documentary
quality like People on a Sunday and Brooks is introduced feet – or rather
feet, calf and thighs – first before blowing the audience away with vivacity
and a smile to brighten even the darkest metropolitan day. There’s more
exceptional footage at a fairground as Brooks’ character suddenly starts to
regret passing up her chance to become separate from the common men pressing
all around her. Amidst the smiles and tom-foolery Brooks’ face is a mask of
despair as realisation drives even the faintest smile from her lips.
It’s hard to resist drawing parallels with the star’s own
situation in this film: she’s followed onto a train by press and paparazzi
after winning the chance to represent France at the Miss Europe pageant and
subjected to male attention at every stage. Her big break finds her conflicted
between opportunity and loyalty to her man, Andre (Georges Charlia), a choice
that made the actress burn a fair number of bridges, in actuality. Lucienne
gets and accepts a chance in a talking picture whilst in real life America
Brooks was turning down offers from Wild Bill Wellman to star in a thing
called The Public Enemy (Jean went with that one…). Louise was just 23
when she made this film and it was to be her last starring role in a feature:
mid-life redemption and eternal fame all lay ahead, but first she had to get
lost for a while.
Brooks once described herself as an actor who largely just
played herself and that’s enough if you’re picked for the right roles and well
directed. But she does have to work a bit harder than Lulu as Lucienne Garnier,
a sweet secretary who dreams of bettering herself through her beauty: you can’t
imagine LB being so naive. She larks with her modest boyfriend – a typesetter
at the newspaper where she works as a typist – and he is already jealous of the
attention she attracts from other men at the pool and everywhere else. Andre
doesn’t like beauty contests and Lucienne can’t even bring herself to tell him
that she’s entering.
Standing by her man Andre |
Executive types look at pictures of the contestants and one
stands out: no one’s going to complete with that hair, those eyes… Whisked away
to San Sebastien in Spain, Lucienne is soon competing in the beauty contest
(actually filmed in Paris with thousands of extras). The documentary feel is
again present with candid shots of the public mixed in with key players from
high society (and low morality) including a maharajah (Yves Glad) and Prince
Adolphe de Grabovsky (Jean Bradin).
Naturally applause is loudest and longest for Lucienne who
easily beats Miss Germany and Miss England to take the crown. Now its cocktail
parties and offers of jewels and riches from her betters – Lucienne sails
through as if it’s one childlike adventure: never has the Brooks smile been so
much in evidence. But Andre has been in pursuit and unwilling to upset him
more, Lucienne decides to go back to Paris.
Prince Adolphe advises that Andre will never understand her and we get the feeling he has a point. Shadowy days in a meagre apartment lie ahead for Lucienne and she is as imprisoned as their pet budgie ironing and cooking for Andre. He tears up her fan mail and bans all talk of Miss Europe but the fresh Prince tracks her down and makes her a fateful offer.
Jealousy |
Then comes the funfair and those moments of doubt all
leading to a change of heart and that stunning closing sequence. That may be
the best part of the film but Louise Brooks is so much more powerful in silence
and without the clumsy dubbing; she’s a spectacular – haunting - vision and one
that is almost hard to watch… and ultimately, she just doesn’t need words.
Stephen Horne’s experience with the film showed with a subtle
and forceful score featuring piano, flute and accordion. It’s fascinating to
hear him play for a film he knows this well and to hear him maintain the freshness
of improvisation with such practiced and hard-hitting emotional content. No
musical spoilers: but you really must hear this show yourself and a closing
sequence that is so perfectly timed as the piano brings dark discord and
the flute lifts us high with Lucienne’s light and laughter as she watches herself on screen singing the lines above...
Clair’s next film was to be the excellent Under the Roofs
of Paris whilst Pabst went on to film The Threepenny Opera and a remake
of L'Atlantide (featuring Brigitte Helm) the restoration of which is due
a release.
For Brooks, this was to be her last major role. For those in
the business who she hadn’t already alienated, she served out a few more roles,
most notably in God’s Gift to Women but blew her last major chance with Public
Enemy… Would she have made more of the opportunity than Jean Harlow? Hard
to say; there was a potentially great actor in Brooks but as Pamela Hutchinson
indicated, she just wasn’t going to sacrifice herself to this career. During filming
Brooks infuriated her director by staying out late and having too good a time.
Genina was convinced that this was preventing her from becoming “the ultimate
actress” and he was probably right but, I doubt anyone could make Louise Brooks
do much she didn’t want to do.
Festival director Alison Strauss pointed out that the French title contains a pun; it is not only the prize for beauty but the price.
Alison's introductions have been a great feature of Hippfest Online as she highlights some of the many attractions of this part of Scotland. For this film she was at the futuristic Falkirk Wheel, the world's only rotating boatlift; something else I have to see in 2022!
The Q&A with Alison, Stephen and Pamela is available to watch on the Falkland Community Trust YouTube channel and it's an excellent mix of silent film musicology, scholarly Brooksology and unexpected hauntology...
This restored version of Prix de Beauté is out now on a two DVD set featuring three
more of Genina's films, Goodbye youth! (1918) and it's remake from 1927, as
well as The Mask and the Face (1919). You can order it through Amazon of
direct from the Cineteca Bologna’s CineStore.
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