Crainquebille

Due to the well-known extravagances so characteristic of the aristocracy, this German Count has sometimes declared his liking for frenchified silent films and among those his affection for Jacques Feyder's oeuvre. Some time ago this German Count had the chance to watch an abridged version of one of the French director's earlier films, "Crainquebille", a film that was very acceptable to strict German tastes; so when some rumors reached the Schloss that the German-French ( an impossible alliance, certainly ) TV channel "ARTE" would show a beautifully restored and tinted version of that film, it was a great opportunity to check if the film in its entirety promised as much as the abridged version.

And that's true, certainly; "Crainquebille" is a beautiful and poetic film that tells the story of a street seller who sells vegetables from his oxcart in the Paris market; due to an incident with a policemen he spends some days in prison, and when he finally comes out of jail everything has changed for him. "Crainquebille" is an astonishing and remarkable film for many reasons: for the technical aspects, because the mastery of Jacques Feyder is in every shot and conception of the film; special and visual effects ( Dr. Mathieu's nightmare, the sequence of Crainquebille in the court ); also excellent cinematography ( the marketplace sequences and specially the night shots ) by Herr Léonce-Henri Burel & Herr Maurice Foster that enriches the film and the story in an excellent way. Besides the technical aspects, "Crainquebille" is remarkable for Feyder's poetry, full of sensibility and not fussiness, which is difficult to do because many directors might have made a very different and worse film from such a story ( there is even an orphaned paper boy with a dog… ). When it depicts the different ordinary people that can be seen, sellers, shop assistants, policemen, prostitutes, judges or doctors, a kind of human symphony emerges, as real as life itself; the film also inserts criticisms about social injustices, social degradation and even injustice in the application of justice.

"Crainquebille" is a piece of real life, a kind of documentary of the people who lived in Paris ( or in any great city of the world ) during the 20's, their harsh lives depicted with some sense of humor and hope, a beautiful film that bets always for the honesty and the honest people, a marvelous masterpiece, indeed.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must take a walk on the wild side for an aristocrat, that is to say, in the street market.

Those who had read 'L' Affaire Crainquebille' by Anatole France in Le Figaro in 1901 could not but draw parallels with the Dreyfus Case that was then polarising the nation. Dramatised for the stage in 1916 it was brought to the screen by Jacques Feyder a year after its esteemed author had been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for his 'nobility of style and profound human sympathy'.

This poignant tale of a street vendor broken by a fallible judicial system struck a cord with Feyder and reflected his sympathy for the less privileged members of society. This is only his second feature following the exotic 'L' Atlantide' and shows a creative imagination at work to give us a personal vision of Paris together with delicious Expressionist moments, notably in the Trial scene where figures are enlarged or minimised, the camera is at times distorted to depict the hapless Crainquebille's confusion and a bust of Marianne, symbol of the Republic, turns her head so as not to see the farcical proceedings. As well as being considered 'avant-garde' the film was a commercial success and one of the few French silents to be given North American distribution.

The original does not hold out much hope for Crainquebille the outcast and the director has chosen to insert a relatively optimistic ending in which he finds unexpected redemption in the form of a street urchin played by the immensely appealing Jean Forest.

At the age of 63, Maurice de Féraudy, a longstanding member of the Comedie Francaise, personifies the title role which affords him his finest filmic hour and cinematic immortality.

Anatole France's verdict? "I really don't remember that there were so many things in my novel".

There's one thing to note here, the old man's subjective experience of the courtroom where he's on trial, and later on the nightmare where it is more vividly relived; figures are unnaturally large or small, blacks and whites are inverted, and the judges storm from their pedestals across the room in thunderous slow-motion. It's an arresting sequence of internal anxieties.

So even though the film has been jotted down in film history as realist - the Parisian marketplace bustling with activity, the sellers pushing their carts down cobble-streets - it is this, impressionist we call it now, inversed look of objective reality from inside the mirror that strikes some spark now.

But compared to what more renowned French filmmakers - Gance, Epstein, L'Herbier - were attempting at the time or were gearing to, it leaves something to be desired. Example: the state prosecutor, whose court rhetorics intimidate the simple old man, is envisioned as gigantic; but Feyder frames him in a full shot that makes the court appear miniscule and the prosecutor normal, which is clearly not what was intended from what the intertitle lets us gather.

So it is all a bit improvised for effect, in an effort, that was taken up in France at the time, to distend cinema from the theatrical point-of-view foisted upon it by the earlier generation of filmmakers.

The moral of the story is actually more interesting; it is not the rigid, surreal system of law and justice that tears the individual, this anomy is endured with quiet, baffled dignity and some measure of ritual fatalism, but the society that bestows a final respect on the word of this system; a collective whole which Feyder reveals to be thoroughly hypocritical, petty, small-minded, and ultimately heartless.

So it is not surprsing that the guardian angel turns out to be a kid; not yet swallowed in this collective cruelty, a person who can see from the heart.

Other than that, there are some lovely evening atmospheres that you may want to see; empty streets lined up with lights, a bridge across an expanse of water. It's all painterly, quite evocative of a sense of place.

'Crainquebille', based on a short story by Anatole France, is a tale that comes straight out of the 'Belly of Paris'. Its main theme is friendship (here between two street vendors: an old peddler and a newsboy) and its opposite, exclusion and hate. The movie exposes the brutal power of the law (the police and the judges), the coldness and cynicism of the bourgeoisie and social ostracism of 'stained' people (even when a trial is rigged and an accused wrongly condemned). The movie excels by its realism (the street and market scenes), by the acting of its main characters and by its emotional impact on the spectator. Akira Kurosawa explained it later so wonderfully: art is not the expression of (the artist's) personal emotions, but the engendering of emotions in the heart of the spectator. In other words, the spectator should really share the joys and pains of the characters on the screen. Therefore, the directing must be focused on 'natural' acting, on doing things 'naturally'. Jacques Feyder knew this all important message instinctively. He was a real master of Art. This movie is a must see for all movie buffs.

Crainquebille (1922)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

French film from director Jacques Feyder about a poor vegetable peddler (Maurice de Feraudy) who has a misunderstanding with a cop and ends up spending two weeks in jail. The peddler was loved by everyone but when he's released from prison he finds that everyone has turned their backs on him. There's a lot to like about this film but at the same time there's a lot not to like. Technically this film is near perfect. There's some terrific cinematography here and the use of tinting comes to wonderful effect. There's two scenes of fantasy, one taking place in a courtroom and the other being a nightmare sequence. Both segments are incredibly well done with a wonderful touch of surrealism that really jumps off the screen. de Feraudy is also perfect in his role and director Feyder keeps the film moving at a lightning pace. So, what's the problem? There isn't a single emotion to be found in the film. I didn't laugh, there wasn't any suspense and there was really any drama so I'm really not sure what the film was going for outside the visual quality.