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...

Keeps on turning… La Roue (1923)

Séverin-Mars

Introducing his documentary on French silent film at the BFI, Kevin Brownlow joked that “cinematic history is bunk!” as he explained his epic fascination with a European film industry every bit as accomplished as Hollywood.

Cinema of Light, an episode from his 1999 series Cinema Europe, whirled through films from André Antoine, Jacques Feyder, Clair, L’Herbier and others, but the major focus was, of course, on Abel Gance.

Not only was this master of montage and rapid-cutting an innovator he was one of the most fearlessly honest and determined of film-makers and with La Roue his cinematic vision was set out against a back-drop of very real tragedy.

Filmed in 1920-21 but only released in 1923, Gance structured the creation of this film around the deteriorating health of his fiancée, Ida Danis, who was fighting tuberculosis.

Sunny Nice...

Relocating to Nice in the hope that the Mediterranean climate would aid recovery, Gance set up his studio at the railway yards and then, when Ida’s health deteriorated still further and they were told to head to the Alps, Gance re-cast his story to accommodate this. Sadly Ida passed on the day Gance finished editing the film.

If this wasn’t enough to add poignancy to La Roue’s tragic tale, then the death of lead actor Séverin-Mars a few months’ later confirmed that mortality and passion were inter-twined. Mars, a bar-room-brawl of an actor, whose energy still fizzles off the screen with frightening intensity, succumbed to heart failure… Gance, who had escaped to New York, cried “like a baby” at the loss of his great friend and collaborator.

Séverin-Mars

The greatest tribute to Gance’s mourning, is to pay this film due respect and, in 273 minutes… I didn’t clock watch once. There are scenes which seem to over-play themselves but these are more than compensated for by the passion of the acting and the relentless imagination on show.

This is about as immersive as cinema gets and it feels like you’re in the grip of an un-put-down-able novel… there’s hard tragedy, love, multiple-miseries and you hold out for some redemption for the tortured family at the heart of the wheel. In the end there is only love when all rage is passed.

Sisif looks on in horror

Written as well as directed and produced by Gance, La Roue takes that ancient metaphor for life’s trajectory and gives it fresh meaning in the stygian dark of the rail yards. These characters are smothered in the immovable soot and grease of their work, parts of the machine themselves “the work comes first”… yet for what reward?

It starts in stunning style as a train crash brings the chaos over which none of us has any control. Gance cuts with swift alacrity between the fire and panic as passengers fight for escape and the rail workers attempt rescue.

Ivy Close with a look later borrowed by Jeanne Moreau...

Even over the impressive length of this film, Gance controls the motion and speed of the narrative with great skill… grimy pastoral interludes between stations, suicidal frustrations balanced against costumed goats and violins…

Séverin-Mars plays First Class Engineer Sisif, who takes a leading role in the rescue, amidst the carnage he finds a small girl, Norma London, a Rose of the Rail. With her parents both lost, decides she’ll make the perfect sister for his son Eli.

This act of charity has enough selfishness behind it to ensure there are consequences…

Gabriel de Gravone

Switching forward in time we find Norma fully grown (played by British actress Ivy Close) and enjoying a wonderful intimacy with her violin-making brother (Gabriel de Gravone)… They live with Sisif in a strange house by the tracks, there are flowers and a well but all is subsumed by the steam and the grime of the railways.

A trackside studio, lit by natural light

Gance’s team constructed the house between the lines and had to employ a watcher to make sure that all were clear when one of these massive locomotives blasted their brutal way past… It’s a memorable location and the movement and power of steam technology is still as fearsomely fascinating as it ever was.

Sisif is highly skilled and dedicated, even breaking off a fight to allow his opponent to get his train on time “work comes first.” The other man had tried to woo Norma and we gradually discover that Sisif has more than a step-fatherly interest in the young woman.

Pierre Magnier

 Sisif is providing a stream of technological innovations to one of the railway managers Jacques de Hersan (Pierre Magnier) who is taking the credit and the cash… He also has an eye on taking Sisif’s daughter.

Georges Térof

Light relief is provided by Machefer (Georges Térof – they broke the mould when they made him!) – Sisif’s stoker and the closest thing he has to a friend.

Sisif passion for Norma forces him to alienate all around as he drinks himself into a stupor. Gradually he starts to make mistakes and reveals all to Hersan who, never one to pass on the opportunity, levers Norma away to Paris and a life of wealth and misery.

Eli fantasizes about a medieval courtship of his "sister"

Sisif and his son both mourn the loss of the woman they love… although it is only later that Eli learns the truth.

Following an accident, Sisif’s eyesight is badly damaged and he starts to go blind. He is relocated to a funicular railway on Mont Blanc – thus allowing for Gance’s relocation to higher altitude.

The depiction of steam and metal grimness is matched by Gance’s amazing alpine camerawork. His cinematographers Léonce-Henri Burel, Gaston Brun, Marc Bujard and Maurice Duverger deserve huge credit for the range of shots throughout the film and here at 13,000 feet they had to work in the most hostile of environments. Tribute too must also go to Gance’s leadership for bringing his cast and crew through.

In the Alps Eli discovers the truth and he and his father now know the full extent of their joint suffering. Norma engineers a holiday to the region whilst Eli has a professional breakthrough… the characters are being lined up for the final movements but I’ll say no more.

The scenario is relatively straightforward but it’s the telling that makes La Roue stand out as one of the masterpieces of silent film and beyond in Kevin Brownlow’s mind and many others.

The dance circles high into the mountains

I felt that the techniques were in advance of those used in J’Accuse and it’s not hard to see the influence of Gance and his editor Marguerite Beauge’s montage and rapid cutting on Soviet Cinema and the development of cinematic language in general.

Gance also coaxed superbly committed performances from his cast with Gabriel de Gravone and Ivy Close both giving their all. But it’s Séverin-Mars who holds the film together – he really held nothing back and you can see why Gance linked his style of performance with his untimely death.

Ivy Close and Séverin-Mars

I watched the Flicker Alley restoration which is greatly enhanced by a new score from Robert Israel which mixes some excellent industrial music concrete with mostly orchestral themes.

It’s available from the Edition Filmmuseum Shop online as well all the old familiar Amazons…It's also usually in stock at the BFI Shop.

Abel Gance

J’Accuse, La Roue… these are staging posts on the road to the performance of Napoleon at the Royal Festival Hall in November… it’ll really have to be something else to improve on these two. After seeing the snippets in Mr Brownlow's documentary I'm sure that it will.