Film Review
Victor Sjöström's 1921 film
Körkarlen, adapted from a
novel by Selma Lagerlöf and better known as
The Phantom Carriage, is a landmark
of Swedish silent cinema, a haunting morality tale that is
distinguished by some superlative photography and camera effects.
Julien Duvivier's 1939 remake,
La
Charrette fantôme, is comparatively far less well known
and has suffered by comparison with Sjöström's lyrical
masterpiece. Coming on the shirttails of some of Duvivier's best
work, including
La Bandera (1935),
Pépé
le Moko (1937) and
La Fin du jour (1939),
La Charrette fantôme exhibits
both the best and worst aspects of the director's art and is generally
considered one of his lesser works, one that, sad to say, risks being
mistaken for a slightly over-enthusiastic Salvation Army promotional
film.
La Charrette fantôme's
lukewarm critical reception in France on its original release is
perhaps easier to account for than its present obscurity. The
fantasy genre was one that never caught on in France and was all but
completely absent from French cinema until a few decades ago. By
virtue of its supernatural theme, cue eerie sound effects and ghostly
apparitions,
La Charrette
fantôme is a rarity, and therein lies its main interest
value. Like Sjöström, Duvivier uses his film to comment
on the appalling social conditions of his time and effectively combines
the bleak artistry of German expressionism with a social realism that
is years ahead of its time. Thanks in no small measure to Jules
Kruger's stark noir-like photography and some superbly expressionistic
set design
La Charrette fantôme
manages to be one of the darkest, most oppressive and most stylised of
Duvivier's sound films. The special effects may not be as
imaginative and effective as in Sjöström's film, but the
fantastic elements of the film are still convincingly realised by the
old trick of multiple exposure and give the film a distinctive
dreamlike quality.
At the time, Pierre Fresnay was not the obvious choice of actor to play
an uncouth alcoholic, woman-beating, child-hating layabout but, as the
film's unsympathetic lead character, he turns in another character
portrayal that is astonishingly true to life. Just a few years
previously, Fresnay had come dangerously close to being typecast as the
romantic juvenile, such was his success in the stage and screen
versions of Marcel Pagnol's
Marius (1931). The far
less heroic character he played in
La
Charrette fantôme allowed him to broaden his repertoire
and attract a remarkable variety of character parts in later years,
ranging from a living saint in
Monsieur Vincent (1947) to a
plausible immitation of Jacques Offenbach in
La Valse de Paris (1950).
Fresnay also took the lead in
La Main du diable (1943), the
only other fantasy film of any note made in France around this time.
Fresnay's performance is, as ever, hard to fault, but it is another
actor, Louis Jouvet, who steals the film, even though he only appears
on screen for about ten minutes, at the start and end. Far
more at home on the stage than on film, Jouvet was never the most
subtle of screen actors but his extraordinary presence made every one
of his screen portrayals a memorable event. When he turns up at
the end of the film as a ghostly harbinger of death, he has a
bloodcurdling reality about him and takes the film into far darker
territory than a 1930s French cinema audience would ever have
known. If Jouvet had had a larger part in the film it is possible
that
La Charrette fantôme
could have been another popular Duvivier masterpiece. The problem
is that Jouvet's character gets too little screen time and too much
attention is given to Micheline Francey's far less interesting Sister Edith.
Edith's story of self-sacrificing devotion to man who patently does not deserve it closely mirrors
that of the female lead in Georges Lacombe's
Les Musiciens du ciel (1940)
but somehow it is far less convincing, mainly because Duvivier insists
on canonising his heroine, giving her a halo of sanctity in every scene.
La Charrette fantôme has
a brilliant opening and an even better ending. Where it falls
down is the bit in between, which is really no more than a drawn-out
good-conquers-evil redemption tale imbued with a slightly nauseating
religiosity. In one scene, which deserves to rank as the absolute
nadir of Duvivier's oeuvre, a worked-up Salvation Army band
accomplishes what looks like a triumphant mass exorcism on a hoard of
flea-ridden sinners. It's painful to watch, hideously phoney and
pretty well undermines the entire film. The only value it serves
is to act as an ironic counterpoint for another sequence in which
Pierre Fresnay gets blind drunk and is visibly taken over by demonic
influences. This latter sequence is so violently expressionistic
(both in the way it is shot and edited) that it is terrifying to watch,
and is by far the most striking in the film - an example of Duvivier at his
most inspired.
La Charrette fantôme has something of the
film maudit about it. Not
only is it now completely overshadowed by an earlier film, it was
entered in the first Festival de Cannes in 1939, an event which was
cancelled owing to the small matter of a war about to break out in
Europe. It was also the last film that Duvivier made in France
before his move to Hollywood, where he stayed for the duration of the
war.
La Charrette fantôme
may be a dark and moody piece but it has little of the bitterness and
outright contempt for human nature that would characterise the
director's work on his return to France in 1946.
© James Travers, Willems Henri 2014
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Next Julien Duvivier film:
La Fin du jour (1939)