Book: The Faber Book Of French Cinema
Release date: 17th March 2011
Author: Charles Drazin
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Last year, The Faber Book Of New South American Cinema was published to great critical acclaim. Now this series of world cinema titles turns its attentions to France, a country with a rich and varied film legacy, and where cinema is tied to the national identity. In this book, Charles Drazin, a prolific film historian, covers the major directors and films throughout the ages, and charts France's turbulent cinematic history to discover what it is that makes it so unique.
The book moves in a largely chronological order, beginning at the start of cinema history with figures such as the Lumière brothers and Georges Méliès. It progresses through to the ‘Golden Age’ of cinema in the 1930s, where the focus is on some of the most famous French directors, such as Vigo, Renoir and Duvivier. Here, a few chapters reflect different perspectives on the same films and time period. A similar approach is taken slightly further on in the book with the next major movement: the New Wave, with directors such as Truffaut, Godard and Bresson discussed. Finally, we hit the current era and Drazin discusses the place of French cinema within a global context today.
This is a broad history of the major events in French cinema, intended as a reference text. There is a comprehensive index to help the reader find the information they need quickly and there is an extensive bibliography for each chapter for further reading on a particular area of interest…
A book covering such a broad scope could be very dry and difficult to read, but Drazin manages to inject life and enthusiasm into a subject he is clearly passionate about. He includes many contemporary quotes which break up the text and make it an interesting read. There are also relevant pictures to give visual examples of the films he discusses. He covers the key directors, films and movements of each era and puts this into the wider historical context. While it may be largely aimed at students, teachers and those with a keen interest or specialism for the topic, it is written in a way which is accessible to anyone and is best to dip in and out of. The index makes it easy to look up a specific topic, while the chapter headings also provide appropriate signposts.
Drazin writes knowledgeably about his subject but does not patronise the reader. He clearly outlines the various relationships and connections in the world of cinema; between people, eras and countries, making it easy to understand. The book does presume some prior knowledge of French cinema, but it is by no means obscure, so it is well-suited to its target audience. He explains the various ideals and values which have driven the development of French cinema at various stages, as well as that most elusive of notions: that certain je ne sais quoi which makes French cinema unique.
However, this book does have a very strong bias towards the 1930s and ‘40s. Admittedly, this is an important era of French cinema: the Avant-Garde era and so-called ‘Golden Age’, but Drazin dedicates a total of nine chapters – approximately half the book – to these two decades. In comparison, there are only two fairly short chapters covering the entire cinema history between 1970 and the present day. This makes it a bit frustrating because the reader can feel stuck reading about the same directors and films.
At the other end of the scale, the more recent cinema history feels very rushed, almost list-like. This gives the impression that it is not as important, which is an injustice to some of the groundbreaking work which has taken place in the last few decades. This is not to say that directors such as Duvivier, Carne and Renoir do not deserve to be recognised as key figures in the history of French cinema, but in this book, the picture is rather unbalanced.
It is particularly noticeable that Drazin has given almost no time whatsoever for the cinema of the last decade, save for passing mentions of a few films at the end of the book. This seems like a major oversight which would suggest to the reader that it is less important than in previous decades, when actually the popularity of French cinema has been more far-reaching than ever in recent years. Given the amount of time Drazin has dedicated to the relationship between France and the USA, it is strange that the phenomenal success of films such as La Vie En Rose, for which Marion Cotillard won an Oscar, is not even mentioned, neither is actor/director Guillaume Canet who has achieved international acclaim for his award-winning films, including Tell No One. These are just examples, of course, and Drazin does not have the scope to include everything, but it does show that this is heavily biased towards one time period at the expense of others.
Nevertheless, there is enough on each time period to function as a basis for further research if the reader is interested, aided by the chapter-by-chapter bibliography. Drazin clearly had to make some choices about what to focus on in a book of this scope and overall it is useful. It is very readable, which is an achievement for this type of book, although the sheer length of it makes it better to look up certain things or leave or have as a coffee-table read, rather than to read from cover-to-cover. If the early days of pre-war cinema are not of great appeal, then this particular text will not be of much interest; however, for a reader looking for a general overview with plenty of information on the ‘Golden Age’ of cinema, then it fits the bill very well.
A good introductory text for any Francophile with a love of cinema, as well as those with a more specialist interest. The Faber Book Of French Cinema is an informative and enjoyable read. KS
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