Le grand Meaulnes

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.

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.

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.

I've been lucky enough to see this film three times - I once made a 200 mile return journey in an evening to see it at one of its rare screenings - and would watch it again and again if only it were ever screened. It captures perfectly both the dream quality and the desperate tragedy of Alain-Fournier's novel.

The film has haunted me for 30 years, since I first saw it at the age of 13.

If you spot it at your local arts cinema, go and see it.

Come on someone, release the subtitled version on video. After a long and arduous search, I managed to buy the non-subtitled version, but there must be a big enough English-speaking market to make it worth someone's while.

*The unsubtitled version is available at http://www.priceminister.com **Apparently, the subtitled version is available from the Connoisseur Video Collection of Ingram International Films (1-800-356-3577) for $79.95. It's 108 minutes long, VHS format, French with English subtitles.

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.