February 7: L’Atalante (1934 -- Jean Vigo)

★★★★★

Some classics really are classic, and this is one.  L’Atlante is touching, beautiful, and true.  At base, it’s a love story about a period in a relationship I don’t see many films about, the time right after the wooing and marriage. 

We get Juliette’s character very early in the film from listening to those in attendance at the wedding: very unsophisticated, restless, perhaps naïve.  We soon see her enrapt with the radio and allure of Paris, but along with that, we see her sweetness in the way she cares for her new barge home and its first mate, Père Jules.  Her plan to do everyone’s laundry says much about her loving spirit.

We also soon see that her husband Jean is very in love with her but inexperienced in dealing with someone in a relationship; he is as immature as she is.  He wants to please her, but his barge work continually interferes, and he’s sometimes oblivious to her or to what she might think.  And he is prone to jealousy and temper.  L’Atalante is the story of two newly-weds who are immature and are having to learn how to get along with another person in their life.

That dynamic alone would be enough for a good movie, but Vigo goes far beyond that.  One interesting addition is the old first mate Père Jules.  This crusty, irascible character has many idiosyncrasies but is basically a good man.  Despite his gruff exterior, he loves cats, which give cinematographer Boris Kaufman a rationale for having them run in and out of the frame throughout the film.  Père Jules’ little cabin on the barge is filled with exotic curios that show how much more experience he has than do the newly-weds but that also give L’Atalante visual thrills.  For example, a pair of hands in a jar, says Père Jules, is all he has left of one of his former friends.  A very touching scene in the film is when Juliette puts a skirt on the grumpy Jules so she can hem it.  This scene tells us much of Juliette’s openness, Jules’ inner softness, and the relationship between the two.  When the immature Juliette sneaks off to see Paris and the equally immature Jean gets mad and leaves her, it is Jules who treks into Paris to find Juliette and reunite these two kids who are much in love but too inexperienced to handle it.  Père Jules is not successful or handsome, but he is worldly and wise.

And there’s more still to enjoy about L’Atalante: the sheer beauty of the film.  The opening scenes alone prepare the viewer for a unique cinema experience as the bride’s white wedding dress glows in the black-and-white wedding procession out of the village.  Soon the couple is walking across fields in their formal dress and the same luminescent tone.  We also see elegant cinematography as Juliette, still in her gown, walks from the bow to the stern of the barge.  During this walk, the camera is motionless and the barge moves past at the speed Juliette walks.  This shot is a beautiful, visual thrill.

There are many other such images.  At one point in the canal in Paris, we go to a cut and see Jean managing a rope with the barge far above him in a lock, a jarring image.  Later we see a river port outside of Paris that is in its early stages of development with a few factories, skeletal building frames and makeshift establishments.  Inside one of these, a beer hall, we watch as Vigo and Kaufman give a tour de force performance of choreography and cinematography with a flirtatious salesman, dancing and dialogue.

Vigo and Kaufman also make ample use of the river mists to create almost painterly images in L’Atalante, and they revisit some underwater imagery from Taris when the lovesick Jean dives into the river to see the face of his true love.  In an eerie double exposure, the figure of Juliette floats by, creating another memorable image while creating a plot and character point.  And the film communicates the love – and desire – that the two have for each other by intercutting scenes of the two alone in bed in different locations. These shots of a buff, mostly undressed Jean and a nightgown-clad Juliette sweating and writhing with desire in their respective beds are of a daring sexiness.

L’Atalante is a true classic film, outstanding in story, characters, cinematography and direction.  It’s one highly-praised film that doesn’t disappoint.

A Familiar Ship's Bow Shot

February 7: Taris (1931 -- Jean Vigo)

★★★★

This little film is as short as it is fun.  Taris starts out as a lesson in how to swim, but Vigo is soon doing underwater shots showing Taris’ technique from below as well as well as above water shots showing the technique from the surface.  There is a beauty in the shots as well as instruction.  There is also some fun as the champion swimmer Taris manages a few cute gestures like reclining on the pool floor as the narration is giving advice.  And Vigo plays with film technique by running a diving clip backwards and forwards, creating a humorous effect as well as instructional one. 

Restrained in most of the film, Vigo’s wit breaks totally free at the end of Taris, as the swimmer is suddenly wearing a top coat and hat and, thanks to a double exposure, appears to walk out on the water.  Then down into it.  It’s as though Vigo simply couldn’t control the pleasure he had in using the medium and just cut loose.

I doubt this is a groundbreaking film, though it goes far beyond an instructional short.  I’d be interested to see how it matches up with other sports documentaries of the era like Triumph of the Will.  And it was fun to see this just before I watched L’Atalante, which includes a pivotal scene that is similar to the footage in this film.

Taris is a nice taste of Vigo.