Le grand Meaulnes

I have been looking for a copy of this movie for over 10 years.

I remember some of the scenes, the light, the colours. Our group of friends, and one especially who is about the best photographer in the world, had gone to new york city to view this movie. I am still, 40 years later, viewing that movie in my mind. I see that this film has affected many viewers the same way. This movie was so visual it was tactile. why can't I find this movie again? WAhhhhh!!!

Its has to be an incredible movie to stick with you for over 40 years in such a strong way. If anyone has a copy of it or knows where to find a copy hopefully with subtitles, please let me know. I would ever be so grateful. Regards, sheri

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.

I saw LGM in French with subtitles (and two years of high school French!). It felt like a pleasant dream (visual, ideas), and I remembered it quite well -- but I had forgotten the title. I described it to a French friend several years later, and he named it for me right away. If I see it advertised for a theatre again, I'll definitely go, now that my French is a little better and my appreciation of fantasy much enhanced.

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.

The commentator who found only technical perfection in this film, but for whom a spark was missing, obviously hasn't lived with this masterpiece as I have, since it first appeared in 1967. I went to it the first time with the friend who had introduced me to the novel some years earlier, and we were both sceptical that it would be anything but a pastiche. At the end, we were both staring at the blank screen, tears rolling down our cheeks, certain we had seen something greatly out of the ordinary. It's a wonderful novel, the greatest French novel of the 20th century, and the film succeeds brilliantly in capturing as much of its magical and romantic atmosphere as could be expected. Seeing it again on DVD – though I've seen it many times in between – I find myself assailed by the same emotions. More than that, I am impressed by just how modern it feels. So many films from the 60s seem technically less fluent nowadays, but Le Grand Meaulnes seems as though made only yesterday. And where would a modern director find his Yvonne de Galais. In Maria de Medeiros, perhaps, but even she could hardly surpass Albicoco's Yvonne. What a plot, what performances, what a perfect adaptation.