Showing posts with label Abel Gance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abel Gance. Show all posts

Tuesday, 1 August 2017

Wise before the event... J'Accuse (1938) out now on BFI BluRay/DVD



"I dedicate this film to the Dead of tomorrow's War, who will doubtless watch it with scepticism and fail to recognise within it the image of themselves." Abel Gance 1938

When I first heard that Abel Gance had "remade" his eerie First World War epic I callously thought about the "improvements" George Lucas had made to Star Wars and THX 1138 through a remix using recent technology to "enhance" his "dated" originals. This comparison is facetious I'll admit but I'm not a great believer in remakes.

I don't think Gance chose to make this picture as an "improvement" on the already powerful silent original, he made it because he was as frightened as his hero in the latter film, that Europe was about to descend into a second war to end all wars. Actually, forget frightened: he was angry and watching the incredibly moving closing sequences of this film is every bit as poignant as the sight of off-duty soldiers in the first film who play the dead risen from their battlefield graves come to accuse the living. The first film was shot in 1918 and many of these troops returned to the front and their doom and yet, in 1938, many of the men in the film would suffer the same fate yet only the twenty first century watcher really knows that for sure, despite Gance's prediction above.

"What I said before, I say again - I'll scream it into the face of mankind, because it must be done!"

War was possible in 1938 but by no means a certainty - most people lived in hope that Herr Hitler surely couldn't be as bad as he was made out... Even as late as September, British PM, Neville Chamberlain was still talking about "peace in our time" even though he, like Stalin the following year, was playing for time as the Brits had failed to re-arm at the same rate as Nazi Germany and were just not ready...

Victor Francen speaks for his director
In his informative notes and commentary for this superb BFI release, Paul Cuff clarifies Gance's position regarding "strong leaders" by showing that the far right had been highly critical of Napoleon - a film who, literally, several people even now accuse of "fascism"... whereas noted fascist sympathiser, Lucien Rebatet viewed it as "idiotic sentimentalism".  But Gance was indeed a man on a mission and his own experience in the Great War had convinced him it had to be the "final" conflict.

In his first talkie, La Fin du Monde (1930... (just about 90 years too early, cheers Donald and Kim...) the director had mankind renouncing war and establishing a World Council, leading the charming Rebatet to label Gance a "delusional primitive". Well, speaking as one about another, I must say that I found J'Accuse - Prenez Deux very moving and, even though the story is uneven in parts, the central message never grows old. As for Rebatet, he spent the war broadcasting for Vichy radio and blaming the Jews and the third French republic for the war.

He never touched the World in the way that Gance did, he never became loved... Gance's open-hearted approach to film-making lifts this film throughout as does his casting of the exceptionally commanding and mightily-expressive Victor Francen as Jean Diaz.

Victor Francen and Francois Laurin - a difficult conversation
Francen is one of the senior troopers at a beleaguered French outpost near the front in the dying days of 1918. In a remarkable opening sequence as what's left of the little town comes under sustained fire, a dead dove falls slowly into gas-poisoned water in a fountain topped off by a statue of Christ inverted by the bombardment. When a squaddie finds the bird, the talk is of how to eat it but Jean decides to bury it instead.

As he does so, he is joined by Marcel Delaitre (Francois Laurin) whose wife Edith (Line Noro) has fallen in love with Jean... It's a key plot component from the first film but here it's covered off in minutes as the two men shake hands; although that will not be the end of it. The men join their comrades in the village bar where sad-eyed Flo (Sylvie Gance... yes, the very same) sings songs to keep the spirits alive especially for one of the men, the youngest and the handsomest, who can't gather the courage to tell Flo how he really feels. But, she knows...she knows.

The troop are ordered on a deathly patrol from which only one man has returned: Jean. With the clock ticking down on armistice it seems a sad risk to take and knowing the dangers Jean agrees to swap places with one of the men, a father of four.

Sylvie Gance sings for the boys
We don't see their final battle just the corpses being dragged back and counted as young Jean fades away in no man's land. But, they're not all dead and Jean's luck has held out and he coughs back to life perhaps foreshadowing later events or an indication that he has been chosen to represent the Dead?

Meanwhile Marcel is dying and Jean promises that there will never be anything between him and Edith. He's a man of his word but things are still very complicated as he returns to the civilian world...

Fittingly for a man who came so close to death, Jean cannot fit back amongst the mortal world and, whilst he continues to innovate for the glass company he once managed, he bases himself near to his fallen comrades and the huge cemetery at Verdun. He's searching for something, a way to stop war ever happening again.

Francois Laurin and Line Noro
The world thinks him mad and Edith and her blossoming daughter, Helene (Renee Devillers) - who loves Jean as much as her mother - try to understand the moods of this brilliant but broken man. Things are complicated by the reappearance of the man who ordered the final assault, Henri Chimay (Jean Max) who eventually becomes engaged to Helene... As war becomes more likely, the stage is set for a chilling replay of the most famous moment from the 1919 film. It's done very differently but is no less powerful aided by Francen's superb commitment.

Gance had seen action in the Great War and perhaps this gave him the motivation as well as the understanding that drove it. He did whatever he could to stop those trenches from being dug again and the tragedy of watching this film is knowing how quickly the battle lines would once again be drawn.

No wonder Gance was a "passionate pacifist". With J'Accuse he aimed to prove that "the future of humanity resides in a generation who will be the first Europeans..."  The last 72 years have seen peace in Western Europe at least, maintained by those new Europeans with or without Little Britain.


J'Accuse is out now and is available from the BFI shop on and online in DVD and Blu-ray - presented in both High Definition and Standard Definition with that new full-length audio commentary by leading Gance expert Paul Cuff. There is also a stills and special collections gallery and a handsome illustrated booklet written and compiled by Mr Cuff, including a specially commissioned essay and newly translated contemporary reviews.

One of the key releases of the year I would venture.

Monday, 7 November 2016

Dynamite… Napoléon (1927), Royal Festival Hall with Carl Davis and the London Philharmonia


"Intuitively, I feel the stirring of the Emperor’s Shadow in response to my effort. If he was alive, he would deploy this wonderful intellectual dynamite of the cinema to be loved wherever he was absent, to be everywhere at once in people’s eyes and in their hearts. Dead, he cannot object to our modern alchemy transmuting his memory into a virtual presence to better enhance his Imperial Radiation."
Abel Gance

It happens about half way through Part IV when Napoleon is talking about a boundary-free Europe in which all people are the same… a spontaneous eruption of applause breaks out from throughout the auditorium: I think something touched a nerve…

Three years on we were back, Abel, Albert, Carl and Kevin, the fathers and sons of La Revolution Cinématographique, standing tall in the Royal Festival Hall as sure as the projections of Robespierre, Danton, Marat and Sante-Just in the Convention Centre inspiring Napoléon before his Italian expedition. Behind them stand hundreds of cast and crew, thousands of extras and tonnes of horses and when Carl waves his baton he’s channelling Beethoven, Haydn and Mozart: mighty music for colossal cinema. This was truly the greatest show in town: a European adventure examining the nature of nationhood at a time when the UK and USA are losing the plot.

Gance planned six films covering Napoleon’s life and this was to be just the first. From 1923 onwards he began immersing himself in his subject in an effort to not just tell the story but to re-create the spirit of the founding days of modern France. Watching the results is a lesson in historical contextuality: yes, Napoleon was the enemy of Britain at the time but look what he did for his country? Gance lauds his leadership, intelligence and legacy and, whilst as a modern viewer it’s hard to avoid anachronistic political referencing we should recall that Napoleon was operating at a time when Britain was ruled by an un-elected sovereign and a parliament of a few hundred rotten boroughs elected by the property-owning classes.

The Gods of the Revolution
In the Twenties, post-war politics were in flux with hard-left/hard-right movements across Europe – British malleability enabled the rise of the Labour Party whilst the French situation was more unstable… Gance’s contribution would be to try and remind his countrymen of where their nation-state came from: he wanted to help make France great again. Dangerous territory for sure - that was him and that was then.

But what he really achieved was cinematically game-changing – a decades-defying leap forward in technique and new ideas: ultra-fast cutting, thrilling hand and horse-held intrusions and the widest screens in history. More than anyone else from the silent era he can make the audience feel like they are right there in the picture.

Kevin Brownlow has laboured for decades over Abel Gance’s film – there’s a wonderful youthful shot of him as a youth with Gance in the late sixties – now his work has reached something of a peak with the BFI’s sparkling digital restoration (although rumour has it that the French are working on their own using different source materials…).


I’ve been lucky enough to have seen a sample of the completed work with the recorded score but to see the full film with composer, conductor and the full Philharmonia is something else entirely: I am thrilled and frazzled… once again I stand ready to invade Italy (in the nicest possible way…).

This time round I noticed the humour more… you might expect there not to be too many laughs but in Act III especially, we have a love-struck Napoleon as well as a pop star General who, having saved Paris from a Royalist insurrection, has to employ a double to distract the fans outside his humble apartment: it’s a Hard Day’s Napoleon and y’know, he looks a little like John with that fringe.

They’re selling dolls of our hero and he even has a would be groupie in the form of Violine (Annabella) daughter of the ever-present Tristan Fleuri (Nicolas Koline) - an “everyman” who follows our hero from school to Italy. Violine’s worship is a little troubling but gains some validation after Josephine (Gina Manès) discovers her makeshift shrine: Gance clearly thinks his subject is worthy.

Making plans for Italy
Act IV is very much a poetic tribute especially in comparison with the more fact-filled earlier sections dealing with Napoleon’s rise to power, his adventures in Corsica and the siege of Toulon. Gance crams in a lot more title cards during the Revolution and The Terror but here the triptych and music deliver crescendos showing his vision, passion for Josephine and leadership of the Italian force. The soldiers are a rag-tag bunch when he arrives but within hours he has them mobilized and up for anything.

On they march in red white and blue off into the wide fields of Piedmont and beyond; new lands to conquer good fortune assured… if only.

This film is so detailed there is always something new and whilst the snowball and pillow fights get mentioned for their hand-held immersiveness, the Victims’ Ball in the former prison cells deserves similar mention: it’s a more adult version of the same game, a blur of bodies with Napoleon as perfectly still at the centre as he would be in battle.

The Marseillaise section is equally visceral as the revolutionaries learn the tune and a young Captain congratulates its author: the song will save a few canons. The camera rocks forth over the crowd: time and again Napoleon sweeps you away with emotional intelligence far beyond most cinema.

Albert Dieudonné
At the heart is a resolutely centred performance from Albert Dieudonné as Napoléon following an equally impressive Vladimir Roudenko as his younger self. Gance directs them both the same way: all that Imperial Radiation…

Carl Davis’ score becomes more remarkable with time: he interweaves his source composers so well with his own themes, particularly the main theme for Napoleon/The Eagle/The Vision. Interviewed for the new BFI set, Davis recalls how Kevin Brownlow first remarked on the strength of this theme: “is that one of yours?” Most of this was composed and arranged in under three months: a remarkable feat and one that, like the film, has stood the test of time.

The Philharmonia were on fine form today with a tip of the hat to Ray Attfield, guest principal on Hurdy Gurdy, which is shown being played in Robespierre’s office as well as Sarah Oates leading the first violins. Carl Davis conducted my uncle’s band, the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, and I know our Duncan would have enjoyed the strings more than anything else.


Napoleon is marching across UK cinemas throughout Novemberdetails on the BFI site – and is also available on a new Blu-ray and DVD BFI set including a 60-page booklet with an excellent essay from Paul Cuff from which I lifted the above quote. More on this later but you can pre-order direct form the BFI – it’s out on 21st November.

Do not miss it!

Vive la Revolution!

Sunday, 11 September 2016

Five reasons to get excited about... Napoléon (1927), BFI preview


Every time Abel Gance's Great Work gets screened it's described as a "once in a lifetime" opportunity - but this year promises not only a restored and revitalized version of that cinematic experience but also Napoleon's first appearance on top-end digital media.

On 6th November cinemutophiles (thank you Pamela H for that!) will gather in the capitol for a screening at the Royal Festival Hall with Carl Davis conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra playing his score: the longest ever recorded and surely one of the most remarkable.

I was lucky enough to be invited to a preview screening at the BFI where Kevin Brownlow introduced a restoration he has been working towards, on and off, almost from the time when he first saw a 9.5mm print whilst still at school in 1954. For Kevin, Carl Davis - who was also present - and generations of film archivists this digital restoration puts Napoleon back where he belongs: in front of an audience.

So, whether you're intending to stream from the BFI Player, watch on your TV/home cinema or in the posh seats rattling your jewelry at the RFH... why should you be counting the days?

Gance joked with Kevin Brownlow that he need the triptych to fit in all the extras
1. You will be engaged!

We're all used to cinema as fireworks or as computer game from exposure to superhero films that aim to assault the senses but Gance was there first. His camera is right in the centre of the action whether on horse-back for exhilarating chases or amidst a snowball fight where you follow the young Napoleon's charge against his cheating opponents. You can almost feel the cold, ice-melting impact of the snow as the focus remains on the young "general" with battle intensifying all around him.

No one did point of view quite like Gance and the frequent us of hand-held shots reinforces the feeling that you are, actually, in the picture.

You won't fool the Children of the Revolution...
2. You will be inspired!

Kevin Browlow talked about the score being almost magical and it's true that there is magnificent alchemy at play between the screen and music that takes a philosophical as well as melodic lead from contemporary composers. Beethoven - who had a personal connection to the future Emperor - Mozart and Haydn are all sampled and the resultant mix is both empathetic and complimentary. This is music that is as questioning of the ancien régime as the protagonists: revolutionary and opinionated, it's there to create a stir.

The speakers in NFT1 were turned up to "eleven" ensuring that this glorious mix pulled you in as surely as the visuals - for such a long film the narrative and emotional energy is maintained with intensity.

Albert Dieudonné
3. It's the perfect post-Brexit film

Gance was mythologizing one of the founders of modern France and also the revolution itself. Napoleon is not so popular a figure in so-called Great Britain but he played his part in establishing a new political legitimacy in France following the removal of the monarchy and the old regime.

Napoleon had a European aim too and it's very interesting to see the respect Gance gives him..."I wished to found a European system, a European Code of Laws, a European judiciary: there would be but one people in Europe..." Oh why is history so inconveniently complicated?

Napoleon reminds us to look at the facts first before we rely on assumptions: Bonaparte was always much taller than the British said he was... More history is required to fully understand this man and his continent.

Edmond Van Daële as Maximilien Robespierre
4. It reminds us of what cinema can achieve

Gance was innovating and the film's rush and tumble feels at least twenty years ahead of its time: pop-art montage, hand-held intrusions, cameramen on horseback in the midst of battles and the biggest bloody screen you've ever seen for the climactic tinted triptych.

Technically ahead of the game the film also features superb performances from dozens of lead actors, all placed perfectly in context by their director.

Kevin Brownlow said that reading negative contemporary reviews he kept on expecting his search to reveal a dip in quality but that never happened and the film just kept on getting better. Today was only the second time I've viewed - half - the film and there were so many things I hadn't seen before: almost three hours on a sunny Sunday morning watching a silent film? It flew by!

In the heart of the pillow fight - the screen split nine times
5. It exists!

The fact that we have so much of what Abel Gance intended is a near miracle and we should never take it for granted.

This film deserves our up-most support for all the years that Kevin Brownlow, David Gill and so many others laboured on it. They have restored one of cinema's truly great films and we should celebrate with a Blu-Ray or two and a live performance as often as possible!

The BFI Blu-ray...looks irresistible doesn't it!
Napoleon is screened at the Royal Festival Hall on 6th November - details and some tickets are available here. Don't miss this it's a once in a lifetime...

The BFI Blu-Ray and DVD are available on 21st November, pre-orders can be made on the BFI Shop.

Sign up for the BFI Player newsletter to find out when the film will be made available although do try and see a screening if you can: it's longer than Batman v Superman and Captain America v Iron Man combined but also ten times as good!