Really free… Feu Mathias Pascal (1925)

Can freedom truly exist without responsibility? My politics teacher would have explained the difference between freedom and licence: you need to have some checks and balances otherwise there is nothing to stop half of us being oppressed by the other’s desire to do as they wilt.

The main character in Feu Mathias Pascal (The Late Matthias Pascal) is obsessed with the idea of liberty but ultimately finds it limits his freedom to act not so much as anyone else’s. Mathias Pascal spends long hours in his room reading about liberty and theorising… he still lives with his mother and all the while he is stuck in his studies he is failing to protect her estate and her liberty.

Adapted from Luigi Pirandello's 1902 novel Il fu Mattia Pascal by its director, Marcel L'Herbier, Feu Mathias Pascal is a fable filmed against stunning backdrops in San Gimignano, Monte Carlo and Rome. Not many silent directors used location as well as L’Herbier: just check out L’Alhambra in Eldorado…

Michel Simon and Ivan Mosjoukine

The Pascal’s live in the picturesque and many-towered town of Miragno (imagine a smaller version of Bolgna in its heyday…) and have fallen on hard times. The widowed Madame Pascal (Marthe Mellot) is tricked into selling her property for a fraction of its real worth by her wicked attorney and they downsize...

Life takes an unexpected turn as Mathias (the magnetic Ivan Mosjoukine) is persuaded by a love-sick friend Jérôme Pomino (Michel Simon), to tell the object of the latter’s desire, Romilde (Marcelle Pradot), of his affection… But, as readers of Cyrano will know, this can be a potentially hazardous route and thus it proves as Mathias and Romilde (not Roxanne) find that they are the ones in love…

Ivan Mosjoukine and Marcelle Pradot

They marry and soon have a baby in their modest quarters which are shared by Romilde’s harridan of a mother who is gradually recreating herself in her daughter in spite of their seemingly tenuous genetic connections.

Mathias is thus dragged from thoughts of soaring liberty down to the earthy requirements of board and lodging. He takes up a job as an assistant librarian in a former church packed with piles of dust-coated literature, stacked to the rafters and constantly nibbled at by rats… The head librarian sits high above absorbed in his studies. He leaves his new assistant to it and Mathias devises an elaborate mechanism for herding the rats through use of cats tied to carefully measured strings… The set is enormous and expressive: were you watching Tim Burton?

Insert mother-in-law joke here...

It’s one of many light touches in a film that deals in both sides of the music of chance… Mathias’s unhappy home life is soon an irrelevance as his mother becomes seriously ill and, as she calls out to see her grand-daughter one last time, the child too succumbs to life threatening disease.

Romilde and her mother neglect to tell Mathias of his mother’s request and by the time he finds out it is almost too late for both gran and granddaughter: even so in his hysteria of grief he brings the two together one last time…

Marthe Mellot

The story turns now as Mathias travels away to Monte Carlo in order to recuperate… he finds his way to the Casino and, as luck would have it, wins a fortune in the casino. Then, in a moment resembling a Paul Auster narrative, he reads that he is believed dead after a man’s body was identified as him back home: everyone believing him the victim of his grief.

He is elated: now he can be truly free no money or identity worries and he can be whoever he wants to be. He heads off to Rome where he wanders the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain and through a Forum yet to be encroached by Il Duce’s arrogant architecture. He spies an exceptionally pretty girl, Adrienne Paléari (Lois Moran, who beguiled F Scott Fitgerald and many others…) and follows her across Rome to her father’s apartment block.

Lois Moran

So far, so free and yet… Mathias discovers that without a passport and without proof of his identify, he cannot rent a room in a hotel, even though he could afford it many times over.

He finds it easier to rent a room from Adrienne’s father and joins the odd community in what look like the most spacious rooms in Rome. The “dead” man is surprised to find that so many of the lodgers are interested in re-incarnation and the practice of séances used to try re-connect with those on the other side.

There’s an obvious poignancy in the “late” Mathias needing to reconnect with himself but this necromancy is also the plot device driving the remainder of the tale. There’s a fraudulent “archaeologist” Terence Papiano (Jean Hervé) who controls his neighbours lives through the promptings of the dead, with the aid of his brother Scipion (Pierre Batcheff - he of Napoleon, The Chess Player, Un Chien Andalou etc…) under cover of the dark.

Pierre Batcheff

Terence has persuaded Adrienne’s father that his dead relatives believe that she should marry him and it seems that nothing will stand in his way. But he pushes his luck too far when brother Scipion robs Mathias during one performance… Mathias realises that he cannot go to the police as he has no identity… returning to the house though he chances his arm by denying that a robbery has taken place, knowing that Terence will realise that his game is up. Thus compromised the trickster has no option but to follow Mathias’ suggestion that he take his brother on an extended vacation…well away from Rome.

Mathias knows that he must regain his identity in order to pursue his love for Adrienne… but he must also return home to settle his account with his wife, friends and the man who robbed his mother: things he can only achieve as himself, emboldened by the realisation that there is no place like your own face…

Les deux Pascal

Feu Mathias Pascal clocks in at just under three hours and feels like an adaptation of a book with its multiple locations and characters, but it is full of invention from L’Herbier and his cast. As well as the exceptional location sequences, the director inserts a number of clever dream sequences showing Mathias encountering himself and wrestling with his conflicted imagination.

Of course, Mosjoukine revels in the drama and is so charismatically intense it’s sometimes difficult to watch the other performers. He had unusual features and a strangely feline countenance set off against huge expressive blue/grey eyes that allowed him to turn his emotional focus at will. It was rumoured that he was bought to Hollywood as a replacement for Valentino but, whilst he has the charisma and acting skill, he conveys a lot more…under-current than the former.

Ivan Mosjoukine

He displays great range and star power in this film given his character’s story arc and the amount of time he has on screen. One of many Russian émigrés to France after the revolution, Mosjoukine directed as well as acted and I shall certainly be seeking out his other films for Albatross specifically Flicker Alley’s recent box set – temptingly available direct.

I watched their Blu-Ray of Feu Mathias Pascal which has no extras save for a brief booklet…but it doesn’t really need anything to add to what is a magnificent restoration of one of the most adventurous French films of the twenties although I should give special mention to Timothy Brock’s excellent new score which trips alongside this dreamy tale with emotional precision.

The film was perhaps more formally disciplined and less experimental than his earlier works such as Eldorado and L’Inhumaine and was unsurprisingly L’Herbier’s most successful release at the time, also going on to play well abroad, where it continues to impress to this day.

Strange corridors...

Jean Vigo's uncanny L’Atalante (1934)

“It’s a banal story, but it all depends on how you tell it…” Albert Riéra to Jean Vigo in 1933.

After the uproar caused by Vigo’s incendiary Zero de Conduit, studio bosses hoped to recoup their losses by giving the young firecracker a more straightforward script to film. Much had been invested in Vigo and the banning of his first feature had been costly, now it was hoped he would produce more populist fare based on the story of young love on a barge.

But Vigo was not so easily tamed, much to his paymasters’ chagrin and you have to wonder if any film-maker and film has ever been more unfairly treated? Gaumont got cold feet after the initial viewing – it seemed too unevenly paced and raw. They cut the film down by 20 minutes – creating a confused mess with the “long” sections left in and interesting moments curtailed. They also re-titled it after a famous popular song of the time, Le Chaland Qui Passe… but it failed to produce the hit they wanted. Vigo, terminally ill with tuberculosis, was powerless to protect his work and passed away soon afterwards.

Jean Dasté

It took many years and the chance discovery of an intact original 1934 cut at the BFI for the film to be restored to something close to Vigo’s original vision. The restoration team consulted as many survivors of Vigo’s crew as they could and the result is what we see now: generally accepted to be one of the best films ever made.

That’s usually a heavy burden to carry but the distinct qualities of Vigo’s work shine through and the almost silent pacing makes this a haunting and still moving film. There are imperfections but that’s – really – part of the charm.

The film starts with the marriage of a bargee Jean (Jean Dasté) to Juliette (Dita Parlo) who has, as her mother says, “…never even left the village before”. There’s a marvellous sequence as the couple walk ahead of their gossipy guests through the village, across the fields and down to the boat. As this quirky procession takes place, Jean’s colleagues, Père Jules (Michel Simon) and cabin boy (Louis Lefebvre) run ahead to try and prepare a welcome in slapdash fashion.

Jean Dasté and Dita Parlo

Juliette paces the decks of her new home, pure white silken white dress in stark contrast to the bible black boat. She appears unsure and recoils after Jean trips but the two embrace and he carries her to their cabin. So begins her process of fitting into this cramped floating world, with its constant interruptions and the strangeness of Père Jules and his ever-expanding collection of cats. 

Juliette tells Jean that if he opens his eyes underwater he will see his true love just a she “saw” him when she was younger. He makes a joke of this but sees nothing… later he will try much harder: the films’ central motif  about the alignment of their marriage.

Juliette explores her new world

Juliette is tempted by the sounds of Paris on their radio… she and Jean argue over the distraction and shortly afterwards she hides from him in the fog – a foretaste of what is to come. As he paces the decks we can still see her, an interesting touch suggesting that emotional and not physical distance is the main issue.

Then there is a marvellous sequence in Père Jules’ cabin when Juliette learns of his adventures: he has travelled the World and she is fascinated with the relics of his travels. Jean is angered and takes it out on the older man, but it is Juliette he is concerned with. Père Jules takes his revenge by robbing the couple of a night out in Paris, as he goes off on his own adventure.

Michel Simon and Dita Parlo

Vigo encouraged his actors to improvise, telling Michel Simon “…write what you like. It can only be better than a writer would doc…”. They fitted the dialogue and the action around the objects they found, the puppet, the two hands pickled in a jar…all contributed to the nervy freshness of the narrative. Simon told Vigo that he hated to rehearse a scene twice – “the second is always a lie” – and so their working method was perfectly in tune.

Next day, Juliette gets her chance to see Paris and is again distracted by another man. Gilles Margaritis does a wonderful turn as the peddler, almost cycling into the Seine as he arrives huge suitcase across his back wobbling down the embankment at break-neck pace. His song to Juliette was shot over 20 times as he struggled to remember the words whilst the chaotic fight scene after he grabs her for a dance also had to be re-shot many times.. “my back still hurts!” he complained in a later interview.

Gilles Margaritis comes between Jean Dasté and Dita Parlo

They return to the boat but Juliette wants to see more and sneaks off to walk the city and, in a fit of pique Jean sails off leaving her behind and alone. The producers just couldn’t stop Vigo dealing with darker issues and Juliette is constantly under threat as she wanders alone. A wretch grabs her handbag at the station and is quickly charged down and brutally attacked… we are in no doubt that desperation drove him to the crime and the vengeance of the crowd seems motivated by spite not justice.

The film was shot through the harsh winter of 1933-4 and Vigo improvised around the elements as they found him… he added smoke to make the best use of fog and showed a line of workers in the snow outside the factory, as Juliette looks for work and accommodation.

Jean Dasté, Louis Lefebvre and Michel Simon

Jean is miserable and falls into a deep depression, almost losing his job as he ceases to function. In the end he dives into the canal in search of his true love, clearing his mind as he has a vision of his bride. Dasté’s brave submersion was originally filmed in the autumn but had to be re-shot in December after the crew had cleared the water of ice.

Jean now knows how strong his love for Juliette is, but can they be re-united? There’s not a dry eye in our living room at the conclusion…

Jean sees Juliette

Vigo took this simple tale and made it unique…there are so many beautiful images – Juliette’s pacing the deck in her wedding gown, Jean’s underwater quest for his love and the docks and waterways. 

The lead actors are superb with Simon energetically repellent, unflinching but also very funny as he improvises the grotesqueries of Père Jules’ character.  Dasté shows grit as he ranges from the easy-going confidence of masculine control to out-of-his-wits desperation once he realises what he has lost – a haunted man who watches and watches, running into the sand at Le Harve as if he is prepared to go to the ends of the Earth.

Dita Parlo's smile

Dita Parlo radiates innocence and joy but also supreme vulnerability: she is ecstatically connected to Jean, her face shining with the brightest of smiles when they connect but totally miserable in their enforced separation.

“We were put in a situation and had to depict it truthfully,” Dasté said later. Of all the couples in cinematic history, you want it to work out for these two!

The original soundtrack from Maurice Jaubert is also worthy of mention, it’s not what you’d expect of the time and sounds like the more pastoral aspects of King Crimson… distorted strings, flute and oboe sounding like a mellotron decades before it was due. Sad, timeless tunes that perfectly fit the story.

Dita Parlo and Jean Dasté: do try this at home!

I watched Artificial Eye’s Jean Vigo Collection which features all of the director’s work on two DVDs and the 2001 restoration of L’Atalante.

Amongst the extras is a precious film Filmmakers of Our Times – Jean Vigo made in  1964 by Jacques Rozier. This features interviews with almost all of the cast and crew of L’Atalante, including co-writer and producer Albert Riéra. All  give fascinating insights into the making of the film as well as Vigo.  Dita Parlo, still vivacious in 1964, said it was impossible to explain Vigo’s character… whilst Simon, larger than life as you’d expect, obviously had huge respect for the young director. 30 years on, all involved seemed to cherish the experience and to still mourn the loss of the man who had led them in this extraordinary collaboration.

There is also a 38 minute documentary on the film’s 2001 restoration as well as short features on the sound restoration and the introduction to the 1990 restoration.

It’s available from Amazon but I'm sure you already have it anyway!