La kermesse heroica

The women hold a big banquet and all of the Spanish officers are invited. However, one of them is not interested and prefers to stay indoors and do his needlepoint. One of the village men is also not interested so the officer invites him to bring out his knitting. They discuss what kind of stitches to use and the officer opines that a particular stitch feels nicer on the leg.

The scene is perfectly innocent, but how interesting that already in 1935 they had the idea that maybe not all of the soldiers wanted to be seduced by women! And they actually dared to put the scene in! :)

The question of just what the Mayoress has done with the Duke is left unsaid, but probably also would never have passed the Hays Office in Hollywood.

...because of the American production code. In early-17th century Flanders, at the town of Boom, a Spanish duke (Jean Murat) and his advisors are due to stop over for the night. The townsfolk panic, as they believe the "savage Spaniards" will rape and pillage their small village. So the burgomaster (Andre Alerme) and his sharp-witted wife (Francoise Rosay) devise a plan wherein many of the menfolk will pretend to be dead and the "widows" will be accommodating to the visitors. The plan works, only too well, as the women find the Spanish visitors virile and attractive in comparison to their fat and lazy husbands.

This is a fun, bawdy, lighthearted historical fiction that doesn't skimp on period detail. The costumes are elaborate and fascinating, from the corsets to the giant frilled collars to the over-sized pants. The performers are entertaining, especially the ladies, playing a range of flustered flirtation and nervous excitement. There are sly comments about the church of the time, and the hedonistic impulses of even the most chaste. Marcel Carne was one of the assistant directors.

The mayor of a small town in Flanders is thrown into panic when he hears that the Spanish are coming to occupy the town. he decides to pretend to be dead, leaving his wife and the other ladies of the town to cope with the Spanish invasion. The mayoress rallies the ladies, and reassures them that they will be more than a march for the Spaniards.

This is an enchanting period comedy, full of lovely details of everyday life, and with many hilarious moments as the ladies of Flanders meet the gentlemen of Spain. the charming flirtation that develops between the mayoress and the leader of the Spanish troops is particularly well done. and there's a delightful scene where one of the gentlemen of Flanders and one of the Spaniards find they have a mutual enthusiasm for needlework. An unusual and very amusing film, pure enjoyment from beginning to end.

A classic of French pre-War cinema, Carnival in Flanders by the great Jacques Feyder is the most devious and cruel satire you might ever come across. Set in early 17th-century Flanders, which had previously been under Spanish rule, the story opens with shots of a busy village preparing for the yearly carnival, when the news break that the Spanish Duke Olivares and his troops plan to stay in town. At the prospect of looting and raping militia men, the flabby mayor of the well-to-do provincial nest called Boom volunteers, as he puts it, "to sacrifice" himself: his plan to pretend he has just passed away, thus hoping to convince Olivares to bypass the mourning town, is eagerly adopted by his timorous menfolk. But while the males go about staging the mock funeral, the women, led by the mayor's energetic wife, take over the action and, in turn, decide to "sacrifice" themselves to the soldiers. What follows is a grand tale of sexual libertinage and deception with a "happy end" of sorts where virtually no-one is redeemed. (The original title, La Kermesse héroïque, literally The Heroic Fête, operates in much the same way as Milos Forman's early satirical masterpiece, The Fireman's Ball, 1967, and the parallels are numerous; no doubt Forman had taken a second look at Feyder's Kermesse during his studies.) What immediately strikes one today is Feyder's directness in exposing his characters' human flaws, which is hardly subdued by the general satirical tone. The way adultery, homosexuality and eroticism but also greed, cowardice and deceit are depicted leaves one speechless at times, and certainly wondering how political correctness and all sorts of profit policies and conservatisms have infested modern-day cinema to a point it would no longer dare think to produce anything like this. Not to speak of the 1930s Hollywood counterparts, for which Feyder would have been light years off the mark, proving the point that there was and still is such a thing as the "French cultural exception". Apart from the latent debauchery creeping out into the open from the cozy interiors of a model town, the film also has multiple strings of side puns that keep its pace up at all times – from spot-on character studies (the mayor, the artist, the butcher...) to hysterical history sidekicks (using a fork for the first time, Spaniards wondering what "beer" is, impious remarks on Dutch painting...). Most strikingly, it is a hallucinatory mockery of the Dutch and their supposed idiosyncrasies: avarice, Protestant pragmatism, self-righteous "middle-class" rule, bogus worldliness, you name it. This goes to such an extent that it has been repeatedly claimed that Feyder had intended an allegory of the Dutch's collaboration with the German occupier in WWI – and from today's perspective, one is tempted to grant it visionary power as well, since substantial parts of the Flamish-speaking population of Belgium were eager supporters of Nazi rule. This assumption makes sense once you've witnessed the cold-blooded irreverence and unmasked sarcasm Feyder uses to unmask his species, which is surpassed only (in literature) by the untouchable Molière. Clearly, all formal issues had to serve this main objective – the Vaudeville acting, the picturesque film set, the matter-of-fact filming, and not least the purpose-built dialogues. So, although you should not expect a formidably audacious experiment in film-making, you will be treated a deliciously immoral chamber piece on sexual banter and other not so politically correct behaviour. Released in 1935, it is also a cruel reminder of how conservative the world – and its cultural output – has become as of late.

"Men are cowardly lions and women are cunning minxes," is how film critic Jamie Russell describes the theme in Jacques Feyder's December 1935 classic, "Carnival in Flanders." The film's core plot had struck a sensitive nerve with the male members of theater audiences while women rejoiced at what they felt was so obvious. The French film is one of the earliest movies to demonstrate the superiority of a group of women over men when it comes down to saving an entire community from wholesale ruination.

French director Feyder is largely unknown to today's cinephiles, partly because World War Two disrupted an upward trajectory in his film career and had died three years after its conclusion. His contemporary, Rene Clair, lamented "Jacques Feyder does not occupy today the place his work and his example should have earned him." The Belgian actor turned scriptwriter and director was in the forefront of silent movies' poetic realism movement as early as 1916, creating such standouts as 1926 "Carmen" before receiving an invite from MGM to direct Greta Garbo's final silent, 1929's "The Kiss." After four years in Hollywood where Feyder was relegated to directing French versions of English-language releases, he returned to Europe where his most popular and highly-regarded film was "Carnival in Flanders," a work he's most known for.

After directing the somber 1935 dramatic film 1935's 'Pension Mimosas,' Feyder wanted a change in pace in tackling a light-hearted subject. His regular scriptwriter, Charles Spaak, suggested a story from 17th century Flanders under Spanish occupation. Excited with the prospect, Feyder proposed framing his farce in the aura of classical Flemish painters' art so revered in his native Belgium. Writer Spaak fulfilled his request, showing how the pompous male city officials wilted at the first sight of a Spanish official with his army arriving in the city to spend the evening. With imaginary visions of rape and pillage, the mayor and his council members feigned death upon the Spaniards' arrival. The women, however, found the men's strategy ridiculous. Since the city happened to be celebrating a carnival, they welcomed the army with open arms, melting the Spanish soldiers' hearts instantaneously.

"Farce can be incredibly painful," writes film reviewer Mark Frost, "but 'Carnival in Flanders' handles the comedic situations with finesse-with many laughs-out-loud moments." The international film community embraced Feyder's film, earning a handful of prestigious honors, including the New York Film Critics Circle Awards for Best Foreign Language Film. But filmgoers in Feyder's native country were incensed by his motion picture. Fist fights broke out in movie houses showing 'Carnival in Flanders" across Antwerp and Ghent, with the city of Bruges outright banning the film. Viewers drew parallels of its plot with the Belgians' acceptance of German soldiers in their cities and towns during World War One. Simultaneously released in both French and German languages, Berliners applauded its message. Ironically, when Germany kicked off World War Two in 1939, the head of the Nazi propaganda office, Joseph Goebbels, prohibited "Carnival in Flanders" from being shown. Reportedly he was sensitive to the comparisons between the Reich's soldiers occupying foreign cities with those seen in 1600's Flanders. Feyder became a pariah to the Nazis when they overran France in 1940, forcing the director to flee to Switzerland for the duration of the war.