The march begins… Le Giornate del Cinema Muto Edition 44, Day One

In Pordenone we travel through distance as well as time, moving across countries and continents as much as in style and substance, all of this was so long ago and yet not so far when it is so near and, in the present circumstances, the straight raised arms of smiling school children in shocking salute still brings a collective shudder. We were watching the youngsters in Emilio Gallo’s Colonia Alpina documenting the hillside community he established with his wife in 1923 and which allowed children for poorer backgrounds in the cities to experience the beauty of the mountains of Biella in Piedmont; a tonic for those with breathing issues from the smoggy lowlands and with those casual actions a reminder of everyday life under authoritarianism.

 

We were in Italy too for the gorgeous array of shorts showing the coastal district of Liguria in north-western Italy. It’s a spectacular location with territory crossed by the Alps and Apennines mountain range and there are steep multi-storey fishing villages literally hanging off the rock side. Below are the brave fisherman and in these films from 1901 to 1934 you get a real sense of the topographical diversity of this country. Pordenone is also near the alps but is 211 miles away from Genoa and its an eight-hour train journey – all for only 35 Euros. Maybe next year?

 

Gunter Buckwald enjoyed his time beside the seaside on accompaniment.

Charles Inslee in Call of the Wild (1908)

To New York and three films directed by DW Griffith for American Bioscope as part of the Early Cinema strand, courtesy of The Biograph Project who have taken paper copies of film cells help in the Library of Congress for copyright reasons where there is no original film, and recreated some of Griffiths’ earliest work. Here we can see the bridge between Victorian melodrama and the emerging new media and it is fascinating to see the technical language of film developing along with the art of acting.

 

The Planter’s Wife (1908) was an adaptation of a stage play from the 1880s and featured Arthur V. Johnson and Claire McDowell as the hard-farming Hollands. Mrs H decides that agriculture might not be for her and runs off with the dastardly Tom (Harry Solter) only for her sister, Tomboy Nellie (the great Florence Lawrence) to save the day. Somehow. Romance of a Jewess (1908) also features Flo Law as the titular young woman who follows her heart and falls for a native American man (using modern parlance) with unpredictable consequences. Interesting scenario but maybe these racial types were easier for the director to work with? There’s more in The Call of the Wild (1908) featuring Charles Inslee (in redface?) as a successful college footballer who isn’t allowed to move beyond his native American heritage. This was the racism Griffith would handle.

 

Philip Carli handled accompaniment.

 

After America, then, well then… we all went to Hell or at least as far as Purgatory with our good friend Dante Alighieri… in Il Purgatorio Helios & Ambrosio 1911 then Il Purgatorio (1911). Directed by Giuseppe Berardi and Arturo Busnengo these were Helios Films attempts to compete with Milano Films blockbuster L’Inferno (1911) and it’s remarkable how similar on tone these two shorter films are with the latter feature? Just as Griffith’s sets would include the AB logo to try and protect copyright, so too was it difficult to prevent other’s copying and cashing in on bankable projects. The Helios films were cheaper, shorter and quicker to release – out first and enjoyable especially with inventive accompaniment from Daan van den Hurk and Frank Bockius

 

Signore Alighieri is still awaiting his royalties… damn it!

 

A change of pace and showing as part of the Ukrainian Children’s Film strand with The Three (UkrSSR 1928) featuring accompaniment from Donald Sosin. This film involves three lads from different backgrounds ending up in a Crimean summer camp of sorts with “hilarious/heart-warming results” at a children’s pioneer camp. It’s hard to ignore the context of the early Stalinist regime despite the film’s good nature it was still propaganda made in the first year of the first Five Year Plane which brought so much death and misery to Ukraine.

 

Now it was time for the opening night gala and it began as these things always should with a Boxing Kangaroo this time a live action/animation from the imaginative nib of Dave Fleisher in 1920. This was followed by just under a minute of watching Charlie Chaplin walking in his garden in 19157 and in glorious colour courtesy of the Chaplin Archives – Chaplin Family Home Movies, Mauro Colombis accompanied.

 

Linda Moglia & Angelo Ferrari - Cyrano de Begerac (1925) 

Cyrano de Bergerac (IT 1922-1923), with Ben Palmer and the Orchestra da Camera di Pordenone

 

When Edmond Rostand wrote the original play in 1897 he had little idea that someone would not only film his work but then take three years of painstaking Pathe Stencil post-production to add colour. At almost two-hours long Cyrano stands almost uniquely as an extant colourised feature from this period and is even more remarkable on the big screen and with Ben Palmer conducting the Orchestra da Camera di Pordenone. Sumptuous doesn’t do it justice and with the auditorium filled with these lush orchestrations of Kurt Kuenne’s score further illuminating a film that revels in its own excesses in full expectation that the audience know exactly what’s coming.

 

You all know the story but as with the 1924 Peter Pan I saw last month at the BFI, this follows the play more than most adaptations. Like everyone I’m a sucker for tints and this restoration looked gorgeous on the Verdi screen, but the story draws you in until the very last whilst the acting is so strong especially from Linda Moglia (Roxane) and Pierre Magnier (Le plus gros nez!). The cinematography by Ottavio De Matteis is also stunning and you really have to take your plumed hat off to those colourists: the film was followed by a mass outbreak of carpel tunnel syndrome which was only alleviated by the advent of technicolour… probably!

 

All this and I found a new record store in town… what a start!

Catfisher blues… Cyrano de Bergerac (1925), with John Sweeney, Phoenix Cinema

My daughter explained a new take on this eternal fable of head and heart, the modern practice of catfishing, whereby people create a “sock puppet” account on social media in order to convince people that they are someone they are not. Catfishing is – apparently - used for romance scams on dating websites which brings us right back to point: in this story is Roxane being deceived by the sock puppet or by the hidden hand? Edmond Rostand had no clue about any of this when he wrote the original play in 1897 and nor did Ferrer, Depardieu and Steve Martin when they were in filmed versions but the essential device is the same even though Cyrano is only of good heart in letting Christian use his words to impress the woman he loves.

In her introduction, Miranda Gower-Qian, explained how it took three years of painstaking post-production to bring this film to release as the Pathe Stencil process was used to add colour throughout this almost two-hour long film. Cyrano stands almost uniquely as an extant colourised feature from this period and is even more remarkable on the big screen and with John Sweeney’s skilled accompaniment. It’s a sumptuous classic that revels in its own excesses in full expectation that the audience know exactly what’s coming.

Repeat after me...

The story is set in 1640 during the reign of Louise XIII when France was on the verge of war with Spain. We see some of the main players arriving at the Hôtel Burgundy Theatre to watch a performance by the actor Montfleury. There’s the beautiful Roxane (Linda Moglia) who is admired from afar by the youthful cadet Baron Christian de Neuvillette (Angelo Ferrari) and who is hardly in the running as the Count De Guiche (Umberto Casilini) has plans to marry her off to a noble ally.

The theatre fills and the colours are superb as the play begins and, Montfleury who has been banned by another noble cadet, Cyrano de Bergerac (Pierre Magnier) after making “sheep eyes” at Roxane, bravely ventures forth to the centre of the stage. There is movement in the crowd and two white plumes are seen passing through the throng, eventually revealing themselves atop the hat of Cyrano - a man revered as much for his poetry as his swordsmanship - Montfleury pulls back in alarm and, after a volley of rhyming couplets retreats as fast as his legs can carry. One of De Guiche’s party challenges Cyrano and is swiftly despatched by a combination of his words and blade…

It’s an audacious opening and all the more difficult to pull off in a silent film, yet director Augusto Genina paces things well and allows his lead the time to use his expressiveness to good effect with his prosthetic proboscis somehow drawing the viewer’s focus to his eyes.

"Look into my eyes..."

Cyrano’s cousin Roxane is more than impressed with his display – no one seems that bothered about the play - and his eyes reveal his depth of affection as the two agree to meet the next day. He accompanies his pals Le Bret (Maurice Schutz) and the pastry chef-cum-poet Ragueneau (Alex Bernard) to the latter’s home were his heroism is celebrated en masse: who needs a stage play when you have the best improv in France?

Roxane reveals that she is in love and, his hopes flickering, Cyrano is crushed to discover that it is with another, the youthful Baron Christian who, like so many in this film, looks like a refugee from an early seventies progressive rock band (the guitarist in Jethro Tull or Gentle Giant’s bass player?) Cyrano promises to do his best to protect his fellow cadet and he is soon bound by an additional duty after meeting the fellow and discovering his tongue-tied reciprocation of Roxane’s infatuation.

Now this is going to get complicated and the story’s most famous scene is soon played out as Christian tries to woo Roxane by repeating words of love fed to him by Cyrano. As he stands below her balcony Roxane melts at the sweet phrasing as if words meant more than looks ever could… and here is the universal appeal, as truth is found in expression not necessarily in beauty. So, put a sock in your puppet, you catfishers!

Linda Moglia being sublime

Roxane and Christian marry but war is coming and the men must away… who will survive and will the course of ventriloquent love ever run smoothly?

Again, my daughter found new meaning in the letter Cyrano writes on Christian’s behalf as they ready from almost certain death on the battlefront. Cyrano has exposed his heart by the teardrop he shed on the paper whilst Christian’s blood is there too after he is wounded. Roxane loves them body and soul but will she realise the additional separation without which her feelings would never have been so stirred… Modern love is so complicated.

The acting is so strong especially from Linda Moglia and Pierre Magnier who is superb even from with under the prosthetic. The cinematography by Ottavio De Matteis is dynamic too but you really have to take your plumed hat off to those colourists: the film was followed by a mass outbreak of carpel tunnel syndrome which was only alleviated by the advent of technicolour.

John Sweeney provided suitably stirring motifs and drove the narrative onwards with a mix of dash and daring do that Cyrano himself would have loved. You could almost see two feathers bobbing over the keyboard.

Another excellent silent film from the Phoenix and well worth braving Storm Ciara for on a day National Rail told us not to travel! Faint hearts and all that…

It's just a gorgeous film!

All my colours... Cyrano de Bergerac (1925)

This is a lovely looking film employing the “Pathé Stencil Process” – over its three-year gestation to produce an astonishingly colourful 113 minutes – the Avatar of its day complete with projected thought…

Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play has done the rounds and watching the narrative unfold you realise that you’ve absorbed the story almost  by cinematic osmosis… repeated viewings with fragments of Ferrer, dollops of Depardieu and a morsel of Steve Martin. On the face of it (no pun intended) a love story featuring a man with an impossibly large nose – dramatically unnecessary I've always thought – making love to a beautiful woman by channeling his poetry through a handsome but less eloquent man, should have little appeal. Yet, there’s something compelling about this scenario – a universal truth in our inability to tell all to those we most want to touch. Cyrano is a very brave man but he is constrained by both self-doubt and an immense sense of honour.

Linda Moglia and Angelo Ferrari

The story is set in 1640 during the reign of Louise XIII when France was on the verge of war with Spain.

We see some of the main players arriving at the Hôtel Burgundy Theatre to watch a performance by the actor Montfleury. There’s the beautiful Roxane (Linda Moglia) who is admired from afar by the youthful cadet Baron Christian de Neuvillette (Angelo Ferrari) and who is hardly in the running as the Count De Guiche (Umberto Casilini) has plans to marry her off to a noble ally.

The plumes of vengeance

The theatre fills and the colours are superb as the play begins and, Montfleury who has been banned by another noble cadet, Cyrano de Bergerac (Pierre Magnier ) after making “sheep eyes” at Roxane, bravely ventures forth to the centre of the stage.

There is movement in the crowd and two white plumes are seen passing through the throng, eventually revealing themselves atop the hat of Cyrano - a man revered as much for his poetry as his swordsmanship - Montfleury pulls back in alarm and, after a volley of rhyming couplets retreats as fast as his legs can carry. One of De Guiche’s party challenges Cyrano and is swiftly despatched by a combination of his words and blade…

Cyrano is challenged

It’s an audacious opening and all the more difficult to pull off in a silent film, yet director Augusto Genina paces things well and allows his lead the time to use his expressiveness to good effect with his prosthetic proboscis somehow drawing the viewer’s focus to his eyes. There is the odd jolting quick-cut but that may be down to missing film… a minor quibble.

Roxanne looks on

Cyrano’s cousin Roxane is more than impressed with his display – no one seems that bothered about the play - and his eyes reveal his depth of affection as the two agree to meet the next day. He accompanies his pals Le Bret (Maurice Schutz) and the pastry chef-cum-poet Ragueneau (Alex Bernard) to the latter’s home were his heroism is celebrated en masse: who needs a stage play when you have the best improv in France?

Roxane reveals that she is in love and, his hopes flickering, Cyrano is crushed to discover that it is with another, the youthful Baron Christian who, like so many in this film, looks like a refugee from an early seventies progressive rock band (the guitarist in Jethro Tull or Gentle Giant’s bass player? Can’t decide…).

Cyrano promises to do his best to protect his fellow cadet and he is soon bound by an additional duty after meeting the fellow and discovering his tongue-tied reciprocation of Roxane’s infatuation (oops, drifting into verse myself…).

The Baron and the King

Now this is going to get complicated and the story’s most famous scene is soon played out as Christian tries to woo Roxane by repeating words of love fed to him by Cyrano. As he stands below her balcony Roxane melts at the sweet phrasing as if words meant more than looks ever could… and here is the universal appeal, as truth is found in expression not necessarily in beauty. albeit via deception (there I go again…).

But war is coming and the men must away… how will this pan out and will the course of ventriloquent love ever run smoothly?

Cyrano has the brains and Christian's got the looks...

There are so many ways in which this could not work and yet it does and I found the film rather more engaging than I expected. Yes, I’m a sucker for tints and it does look gorgeous, but the story draws you in until the very last whilst the acting is so strong especially from Linda Moglia and Pierre Magnier. I’ve never had this high a regard for Cyrano before and that’s probably because it appears closer to the play than other versions I’ve seen.

Stunning set pieces: so much ink!!

The cinematography by Ottavio De Matteis is of the lush variety and you really have to take your plumed hat off to those colourists: the film was followed by a mass outbreak of carpel tunnel syndrome which was only alleviated by the advent of technicolour… probably!

The song and the singer

I watched the Lobster Films restoration which features a stirring score from Kurt Kuenne and performed by the Olympia Chamber Orchestra with Timothy Brock waving the stick. It’s occasionally a little too stirring but that mostly fits well with this all round exercise in panache!

Just don't say a thing Christian.

 The film is available from The Amazons of Avoidance or direct from those lovely Lobsters.

Seemingly there was a real Cyrano de Bergerac, I bet he didn’t really have the nose.

There is a dream sequence I forgot to mention...