Le grand Meaulnes

After years of looking, I found the DVD of Le Grand Meaulnes sitting on the shelf in Virgin Megastore on the Champs Elysees in Paris. It seems to have been recently published. It's in French of course and without sub titles but if you know the film, then you know the book too and don't need the English. There is some biographical material about Alain-Fournier on the DVD plus the original cinema trailer (and even a bonus second DVD, La Fille aux Yeux D'or, also by Albicocco).

I saw the film of Le Grand Meaulnes back in 1973/4 and again sometime during the Eighties at a London screening. It is still as fresh, original and magical now as it was then. In some respects, the 1972 Nicholas Roeg film of Don't Look Now, also a classic of its kind, has some echoes of this Albicocco masterpiece - mainly in the use of light and its effects, but also in some scenes: a red brooch is held to the light, the passing boats on the lake, Yvonne de Galais falling in the stream, the time shifts in the narrative.

Filmed in cinemascope, and making full use of the aspect ratio, watching this film is like being immersed in another world. For much of the first quarter of the movie, we're at a strange party at a country house, and very little in the way of dialogue is spoken to explain things. We are simply there, and the camera prowls through the crowd and around the house and grounds, and we follow, seeing what it sees, and trying to piece it all together. It's a bravura opening, and the film stalls a little afterwards, until it once again establishes its rhythm. It's a tale of a young man, wandering, searching for a path in life, and the constantly mobile camera expresses his wanderlust, just as the beauty (and sometimes strangeness) of the shots expresses his amazed and youthful eye on the world. It's too bad that this film is not available in its original, uncut length, indeed that it's totally unavailable anywhere (except, perhaps, France?), because it is a hidden treasure. Anyone who cares for the art and craft of movie-making should watch this film. Not only is it expertly made, it packs an emotional punch too. It's not to be compared to the novel, because film works differently. But the spirit of the book is intact, and the translation into visual terms is as stunning as the original prose.

This is one of those rare films that stays on your mind for years, even though you might not remember much about it anymore. I saw this in 1998-only once-but sometimes find myself thinking about it. I remember walking out of the theater right after I saw it and feeling different than I did two hours earlier. Aside from Alain Fournier's excellent story, I think the film just conveys a particular mood really well--you feel affected and somewhat hypnotized by the movie. I can't say that I've had that experience very many times. I have tried to find this film on VHS several times over the past few years, but have not been successful (although I see that Amazon might have, at one time, offered it). Anybody with information on how I might obtain this amazing movie, please let me know.

If you know the book, the film is the fair answer to yours expectations. For performances, off course, for cinematography- just seductive- , for the grace and for the atmosphere - dreamy , delicate, seductive in profound sense. But, more important - it is magic. And this word has many senses in this case. Because it is just a film who you feel it as seed growing up, decades , in yourself , as memories. So, just special, memorable and so near to a personal experience.

Though now something of a curiosity piece, the DVD version of this 1967 film was worth tracking down (via Price Minister).

Director Jean-Gabriel Albicocco provides a pretty faithful rendering of the plot of Alain-Fournier's classic novel and, more importantly, captures something of its elegiac tone - even if he is a little heavy-handed in blurring his lenses during the scenes at the mysterious party at the lost domain. The landscapes and settings, so important in Fournier's poetic imagination, evoke both the magic and the desolation of the novel. The film is also superbly lit.

Jean Blaise was a real find as the protagonist, as he possesses the intensity necessary to Meaulnes's charisma. Brigitte Fossey occasionally teeters perilously close to a simpering quality, but at other points succeeds in conveying the elusive and fragile beauty of the fabulous Yvonne De Galais.

It will be fascinating to compare Albicocco's vision with the version due for release in France in 2006.