Film: Coeur Fidèle
Year of production: 1923
UK Release date: 27th June 2011
Distributor: Eureka!
Certificate: PG
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Jean Epstein
Starring: Léon Mathot, Gina Manès, Edmond Van Daële, Claude Benedict, Madame Maufroy
Genre: Drama
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French
Review by: Sarah Hill
With his 1923 film, Coeur Fidèle, director and film theorist Jean Epstein set out to create a simple story of love and violence which would win the confidence of those who believed that “only the lowest melodrama can interest the public.” He would create “... a melodrama so stripped of all the conventions ordinarily attached to the genre, so sober, so simple, that it might approach the nobility and excellence of tragedy.” Whilst the film may not have won favour with the general public in the way that he had hoped, in stripping back the conventions of the genre, Epstein created a melodrama which exhibited innovative uses of photography and editing techniques and makes a significant contribution to the style that would come to be known as ‘poetic realism’.
Marie (Gina Manès) works in a bar where she lives with the owner and his wife. She is the object of the desire of Petit Paul (Edmond Van Daële), a man who has only ever filled her with fear. Marie is forced to marry Petit Paul, even though she is in love with the gentle dockworker, Jean (Léon Mathot). Jean follows the couple to the fairground where the two men fight, which results in a policeman being stabbed. Petit Paul manages to get away but Jean is arrested and sent to prison.
A year later, on his release from prison, Jean tracks down Marie and discovers that she now lives with a perpetually drunk Petit Paul and their sick baby. Jean tries to help Marie with the assistance of her disabled neighbour (Marie Epstein). However, village gossips inform Petit Paul that Marie is planning to leave with Jean and he returns to the house for a violent confrontation, armed with a gun. During the struggle that ensues, the woman takes the gun and shoots Petit Paul...
Despite its narrative, Coeur Fidèle appears to be not so much a melodrama as an early social realist film. The characters inhabit a very working class milieu – Marie works in a pub owned by her family, where much of the early action takes place. Also, the idea that she is forced into and then trapped in a relationship with an undesirable man gives the film a very domestic feel. Not only does the film contain elements of social realism but it also arguably one of the earliest films to display characteristics of poetic realism, in which everyday sights acquire a transcendental form of beauty, which evokes comparisons with contemporary directors such as Pawlikowski. Each frame of Epstein’s film is like a photograph in which the characters are perfectly positioned. Nowhere is this more evident than during a scene in which Marie and her secret lover, Jean, sit on the cliff tops with their arms around each other, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes as the waves gently crash around them in an image of absolute serenity. The way that Jean looks at Marie with his eyes full of longing is in stark contrast to Petit Paul’s lecherous leer, and says more about the relationship between Jean and Marie than dialogue ever could.
What is most striking about Coeur Fidèle, however, is its innovative use of editing, which is all the more impressive when one considers the fact that the film was made in 1923. Epstein frequently cuts rapidly between mid-shots to sudden close-ups of a character’s eyes or an aggressive fist. When witnessing these rapid cuts and extreme close-ups, it is almost impossible not to think of Luis Buñuel’s 1929 film Un Chien Andalou, and it is, therefore, unsurprising to learn that Buñuel worked as an assistant director to Epstein on his film Mauprat in 1926. In addition, as well as highly rapid editing, Epstein also utilises superimposition to convey the main ideas within the film, such as when Marie’s face is superimposed over an image of the waves at Marseille’s dockside, conveying the idea that the love between Marie and Jean is natural and offers a sense of freedom that she does not possess in her relationship with Petit Paul, which mostly takes place indoors and gives the impression of stifling confinement. Furthermore, the love between Marie and Jean is conveyed more overtly when Jean’s face is superimposed over the shape of a heart.
The highlight of Epstein’s use of editing within the film is undoubtedly the scene during which Marie and Petit Paul ride the carousels at the fairground. Epstein cuts quickly between images of the couple whirring around on the horses to the soaring hill tops and back to the ground, as it spins below Marie who is looking down towards it. Whilst typically the image of a couple riding a carousel, complete with soaring camerawork, would be used to connote the giddy exuberance of love, here it is used to convey the complete opposite. The sequence creates the feeling of relentless, stomach-churning motion because however much Marie wishes to escape the clutches of Petit Paul in order to live freely with Jean, she knows that she will never be able to. This sequence builds towards a tense crescendo until Petit Paul finally manages to kiss Marie roughly on the cheek and, in doing so, claim ownership of her. She belongs to him now.
Following this, the film becomes more conventional in style, and the focus is very much on narrative progression as Jean and Petit Paul fight, which results in Jean being sent to prison and Marie living with Petit Paul and having his baby. It is at this point that the film seems to become less captivating without the use of rapid editing to help maintain the pace established in earlier scenes. However, Epstein soon increases the dramatic tension once again as Jean attempts to rescue Marie with the help of her disabled neighbour. After her walking stick gets crushed as she tries to escape, the girl is forced to crawl up the stairs to the room where Marie and her baby are trapped by Petit Paul. The tension is unbearable as she slowly and painfully crawls up the stairs before finally managing to grab Petit Paul’s gun in order to shoot him.
In the film’s epilogue, Jean and Marie are shown to be reunited and are at the same fairground from earlier in the film. As Marie rests her head on Jean’s shoulder, the contrast between this scene and the previous fairground scene is remarkable; it’s as if the characters – and also the audience - are finally able to breathe. Coeur Fidèle closes with a title card that reads: “Love allows one to forget everything.” However, whilst Marie and Jean now appear to have everything they wanted, there is a weariness behind their eyes which suggests that too much has happened for them to simply forget.
Coeur Fidèle is a captivating film, despite the occasional lull. The simple story greatly facilitates the director’s experiments with camerawork and editing and it is visually very striking. Ultimately, the film is an early masterclass in film editing which contains some exquisite moments of poetic realism. It is a film which, today, appears to be quite ahead of its time. SH
No comments:
Post a Comment