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A complex and sympathetic narrative about a young woman that begins with her working on a river barge with her father and her uncle and follows her through difficult circumstances after her father dies, exploited but resourceful, even using petty crime, particularly in the company of a scampish boy. There's something Pickfordesque about Catherine Hessling (who became Mme. Renoir), and a touch of D. W. Griffith in her occasional hanky-winding, but Renoir is not as sentimental. There's a dream sequence as good as Hitchcock decades later, night scenes (a haystack on fire), and observations about the ways of the well-born that are a start on the way to La Règle du jeu.

To try to find some of the seeds which produced Renoir's masterpieces of the thirties is splitting hairs.All we can say is that it shows Renoir's taste for nature ,rivers,country landscapes.

The heroine called Gudule (the name has become completely ludicrous in today's France ;no one is called Gudule anymore)is played by Renoir's favorite actress of the silent era ,Catherine Hessling.Her fate is worthy of Hugo's "les miserables" :mistreated by a wicked lecherous uncle ,taken in by a poacher and his mum, left in the cold and the rain...And finally she finds love :a nice young man falls for her and marries her.His background is very bourgeois ,but the parents do not seem to bother.That is to say we are far from "Boudu Sauvé des Eaux" ,"La Chienne" and even "Une Partie de Campagne" .

Best moment: the heroine's nightmare;people who know well Renoir's silent era will notice the similarities between this sequence and that of "La Petite Fille aux Allumettes" where the little match girl and her attentive escort go for a horse ride in the sky.The comparison stops here for " La Fille de l'Eau' is inferior to the Andersen adaptation.

Actually the main influence is DW Griffith but then again Hessling is not

Lilian Gish.

For Renoir's fans.The others might find it a bit obsolete.

Admittedly made merely to exploit his wife Catherine Hessling's "photogenic" attributes, Jean Renoir's solo directorial debut already displays his trademark humanism and painterly eye – while Hessling herself turns in a far more naturalistic performance here than she did in NANA (1926).

The plot is simple and melodramatic: Hessling loses her father, is abused by her brutish uncle (possibly inspired by Griffith's BROKEN BLOSSOMS [1919]), falls in with crooked gypsies (who ultimately incur the wrath of the people and have their caravan burned to the ground), is taken in by a wealthy family but is caught stealing for her uncle's sake…until the latter gets his come-uppance and the girl is engaged to her employer's young son. The accompanying organ score is effectively evocative to begin with but, eventually, it takes a tediously avant-gardist turn.

The film's barge opening anticipates Jean Vigo's L'ATALANTE (1934) and the search at sea, F.W. Murnau's SUNRISE (1927); there is also some remarkably fast cutting throughout, a style which Renoir would largely forsake in his subsequent work. The highlight of WHIRPLOOL OF FATE, however, is undoubtedly an amazing dream sequence which, uncharacteristically for the director, is heavily reliant on optical effects and camera technique; incidentally, the two shorts I followed it with on Lionsgate 3-Disc "Jean Renoir's Collector's Edition" proved similarly experimental.

This film is from the DVD collection from Criterion and it's the earliest of the films by director Jean Renoir in the package. Naturally, being made in 1925 it's a silent film--and it's really one of the better ones from the era. Now this is not because the story has a huge budget or complex plot. No, it's very simple and direct. But, it also is masterfully composed--with some wonderful film work and lots of skill in such a young director.

The story begins with a young lady (Catherine Hessling) living on a barge with her father and uncle. When the father unexpectedly dies, her life falls to pieces as the uncle is scum--complete and total scum. She flees for her life and to avoid being raped and lands in the lap of a 'bohemian' (in this case, really just a thief who shuns work) and you know she can do better. However, when the bohemian and his mother take off, Hessling is all alone and without any resources. What will become of her? Tune in and see for yourself.

The film works well for some reasons other than just the fine direction and cinematography. Hessling's amazing eyes really catch your attention. They practically glow and really give her a gorgeous expression. Also, all the nice location shooting in the countryside was terrific--like a window into a lost way of life. Well worth seeing and well-constructed.

Renoir this picture may be, but it's no masterpiece; indeed, it's not particularly good.

The story gives the impression of having been cut down from a sprawling melodrama and crammed into too small a space, with highly-coloured events occurring in implausible and ultimately tedious sequence: the film is only about seven reels, but felt considerably longer to sit through by the end. There is no character development to speak of, the various individuals concerned being one-dimensional cardboard figures who pop in and out of the plot as convenient, and the leading lady is neither convincing as an adolescent nor, apparently, much of an actress. The male roles are fairly well-played within the limitations and stereotyping of the script, but Catherine Hessling all too often gives the impression of simply striking poses and painting on expressions to order.

The dislocated and arbitrary nature of the calamities that befall her verges at times on the bathetic, since practically no prefiguring takes place. If a man falls overboard, or a quarry opens up suddenly underneath her, or a family abruptly up sticks and move abroad lock, stock and barrel, then it is purely for the convenience of the plot. As others have commented, the most memorable sequence is that of the nightmare where she finds herself surreally beset by villains from earlier episodes; this experimentation was presumably where the director's heart lay. A little of this, however, goes a long way.

All in all, the film isn't even bad enough to be good. An actress of Mary Pickford's calibre might perhaps have pulled some successful emotional impact out of the twopenny plot, but failing any particular interest or sympathy for the central character (it's hard not to share La Fouine's impatience as she proves such a shrinking liability in her first poaching lesson) I felt this picture had little to offer. It tries for low humour; it tries for high drama; it tries for romance. It doesn't achieve a terribly impressive level in any of them.

This is the first film Renoir directed alone and it is by far his best silent film, of the ones I have seen (Whirlpool of Fate, Nana, Charleston Parade and The Little Match Girl).

The editing was just amazing. The quick cuts where so spot on and well paced. And the trick shots where like something from a poetic avant garde film. There was also a very nice close up of eyes, which reminded me of the Spaghetti Westerns.

The story is not bad. Reminded me a little of D.W. Griffith mellow drama. The acting is also not too bad but the strength of this film is first and foremost its visual aspect, something sadly lacking in his other silent films I have seen.

This will mostly seem outdated now. A silent melodrama about a young destitute girl in the French countryside trapped between men who desire her, and on the other hand by her efforts to comply or reciprocate. Various bargains that have to do with money as the more or less thinly veiled metaphor for sex.

But there is a dream sequence here that, as so often with these silent dreams, I urge you to see. It's about the girl transmuting in her feverish mind these barely comprehensible forces that threaten the virgin soul into images that will make sense; so an imaginative flight, a sensual, delirius game of hide-and-seek where the coarse, violent men haunt her down, where a piece of rope transforms into the snake of mischievous desire, a point-of-view rushing towards a door and the light outside, and finally the man who can protect her shown, quite literally, as a champion on his white horse galloping across the skies.

The overwhelming experience is so perfectly about the distorted imprint of the world. This should be seen next to the best moments in Epstein. There is shadow here cast by the eye in motion, emotional or otherwise.

Another note that intrigues, a blemish in the perfect picture of her well-to-do benefactor. His parents are shown at one point hastily leaving for Algiers on account of business; what was probably meant innocently at the time, now can only leave us wondering at his source of wealth.

Some familiar strains in the broad strokes recall contemporary cinematic fare, and possibly other works, too. To whatever extent this is the case, though, by all means screenwriter Pierre Lestringuez whipped up a story that's readily enjoyable and compelling in its own right, and I also feel like some plot elements herein were rare if not altogether novel for the time period. The overall narrative and each scene in turn are well balanced between surprising levels of drama, light humor, tinges of romance, and more, and not only is the writing robust and compelling, but all the other labor poured into the production was just as terrific, cementing the value of this silent classic. To judge it strictly by the thrust of the story it may not fully leap out among its brethren, but 'La fille de l'eau' boasts substantial strength in its details that makes it more than worthy enough to earn recognition, remembrance, and a hearty recommendation, both as a surviving film of the 1920s and absolutely on its own merits. No matter how much or how little some facets had presented in other prior titles, it's nonetheless wonderfully striking how various ideas were employed here.

Catherine Hessling definitely stands out most as protagonist Virginia (identified in the French intertitles as "Gudule"), and aptly demonstrates her capability as a leading lady with gratifying nuance, range, and physicality. This is hardly to count out her supporting co-stars, including Harold Levingston and even writer Lestringuez, but there's no questioning who is the standout member of the cast. Like so much else in the picture I rather wonder if it's not worth watching just for Hessling alone, and the same can surely be said of director Jean Renoir - incidentally Hessling's husband at the time. Even so early in his career as a filmmaker Renoir undeniably shows a firm hand and keen eye in guiding his cast, orchestrating shots and scenes generally, and otherwise ensuring that the many moving parts of Lestringuez's vision were brought to vivid, marvelous life. Simple as the saga may seem at times, especially early on, there are aspects of the project that are notably complex, and under Renoir's direction everything is executed across the board with deft fluidity and obvious, considerable skill.

That complexity includes unexpected violence, a relatively early example of which is altogether jarring; the coordinated stunts and more action-oriented sequences are fantastic. Speaking of fantastic, Lestringuez's whimsy served up a wild, rather awe-inspiring dream sequence that Renoir and his collaborators realized with such tremendous vitality that the result is actually kind of disturbing. I dare say that's no small feat for the silent era, not least for a title that does not specifically dabble with horror. Practical and visual effects, tricks of the camera and editing, and for that matter the editing at large are downright exquisite - above all in that one special instance, but indisputably elsewhere in the movie, too. Rapid cuts at select points heighten the palpable tension and amplify characters' feelings; Jean Bachelet and Alphonse Gibory illustrate smart cinematography that solidifies or lends flavor to particular beats, and minutiae as simple as close-ups and lighting are exercised to excellent effect. Be it true or not, there are bits and pieces of 'La fille de l'eau' that feel uncommon, advanced, or splendidly inventive for 1925, and one way or another, they're genuinely extraordinary as they present.

Factor in lovely sets, filming locations, and costume design, and to be honest I'm hard-pressed to identify any criticisms. If anything I might say that the makeup is a tad heavy-handed here, giving some actors an unnatural experience exceeding even what other features of the silent era were working with. Engrossing as the film becomes very quickly, the disparity between the ordinariness of early scenes and the vibrancy of later scenes is noteworthy. Then again, if these are really the worst detractions one can make of a production, then it's clearly done pretty well for itself. Even if it's not entirely perfect, or doesn't completely demand viewership for one and all, the final product more than speaks for itself. In nearly every capacity the picture is superb, crafted with intelligence and care; even the intertitles bear some welcome, somewhat flowery language. Renoir's direction, the acting, and Lestringuez's screenplay and root storytelling are all quite brilliant, and the fact that other contributions from behind the scenes threaten to outshine these preeminent qualities says so much about the whole. When all is said and done I'm inclined to think that while it may not have the same renown as some of its kin, 'La fille de l'eau' is as absorbing, entertaining, satisfying, and all-around upstanding as most any of its contemporaries, and furthermore stands far taller than no few titles even in all the decades since. It can be hard to come across but if you do have the opportunity to watch, as far as I'm concerned this is highly deserving of anyone's time.

"La Fille De L'Eau" is Jean Renoir's first film; Renoir is very well recognized by the longhaired generation, due especially to his sound period; this is a youthful film, and we all know how bold the longhaired are during their early lives..

A melodramatic air can be noted in the film's storyline; it tells the story of Damen Gudule (characterized by the director's muse, Catherine Hessling) a girl who goes through many and varied misfortunes, the sad details of which this aristocrat will enumerate.

Gudule works with her father and uncle in a scow, up and down river (first disgrace: a girl working, and to makes matters worse, in such a vulgar place); when her father accidentally drowns, her uncle tries to abuse the poor little orphan.

Weary of this harassment, Gudule runs away and leaves the scow behind, uncle included, and joins a group of low life people (the lady reads cards and the boy is a petty thief, occupations not very commendable especially the lady's one); due to Gudule's unlimited charms she soon attracts another undesirable suitor but the petty thief rescues her honor. When the little orphan rejects the young pursuer's further indecent proposals, the rejected scoundrel, helped by some neighbors, decides to burn the wagon of her new family.

Alone, without wagon or family (they ran away during the fire), the tragic Gudule's destiny becomes bleaker still with the reappearance of her uncle, who asks her to finance his pitiful life. The hapless young woman then is instructed to rob the house where she is now working and where she has attracted the young Master (another mishap; the intimacy between different social classes)

The young Master, when he discovers that his dearly beloved has been extorted by her uncle, decides they must get rid of such an unrepresentable family member and defeats the evil uncle in a tough fight; Gudule's new heartthrob takes the young woman with all his family to Algeria (as though poor Gudule hasn't suffered enough; now she must endure the tacky holiday destination chosen by her lover)

In spite of the film's imperfections and undefined style, this German count was impressed by Gudule's dream sequence with its obvious surrealist influence, it fascinates the spectator with its strange and suggestive shots; it is mainly because of this that the film deserves to be seen.

And now, if you allow me, I must temporarily take my leave due to the fact that this Count needs to called to order too, some unrepresentable family members.

The ambiguity of politics in La Fille de L'Eau replaces the ambiguity of stylistics from Une Vie Sans Joie (1924). I find it hard to determine which early idea presented by the film should then be applied throughout the film... that hope springs from the unsung courage and perseverance of everyday people or that wisdom is seated in the lives of those who know to avoid being in the way of their husband's racing car? Is Renoir flippant in his observation of the casualness of fate and abnormality of instinct? This film leaves me with more questions than answers as it is a launching point for social themes that will be teased out throughout Renoir's career. I would like to think that Renoir cares about "the little people" but it is well recognized that he is ambiguous and ambivalent in his political expressions. This film is a good example. The documented views of Vigo's social cinema have a solid application in the barge scenes and the milieu of the film more generally, however, the stylistic system dominates the cinematic experience(like all Renoir films really). Psych-driven flashback shots and angular close-ups eventually give way to rapid editing montage sequences. The caravan scene is first expressed in Eisensteinian juxtapositional collision montage and is then remembered by Gulune in Gance-like hyper-psychological rapid montage. As Gulune undergoes further stress from her environment and circumstance, she hallucinates...and nightmaresque sequences are constructed from every French Impressionist technique in the book: superimpositions, mattes, over-exposures, surreal visuals (mise-en-scene), reverse-projection, slow-motion, oblique blocking within the frame, unnatural settings, and even mirror distortions a la Dr Tube (Gance). Gulune was close to death and I conjecture that this is the over-arching theme of the film as opposed to the tired fixations on Renoir's supposed ever-present and all-pervasive socialist politics (even if subverted and often excused under the banner of "naturalism"). Perhaps my thesis would hold more weight if La Fille de L'Eau had been produced in 1926 or 1927 as sound film was to bully silent film to death... but then again Renoir was always considered forward-thinking and generally ahead of his time.

Jean Renoir's first film, WHIRLPOOL OF FATE, was made when he was 30 years old and starred his first wife Catherine Hessling (who had modeled for his father Pierre-Auguste Renoir). Essentially a melodrama in the style of D. W. Griffith, it concerns the plight of a young woman who works on a canal barge with her father and uncle. After the father dies in a work related accident, she escapes from her drunken, lecherous uncle and winds up with a group of gypsies who take care of her. She meets a young thief there and after many trials and tribulations, she marries the son of a middle class family and it all works out.

Although the story is clearly indebted to Griffith, the visuals are Renoir's own. WHIRLPOOL contains scenes that would be recast in later movies such as F. W. Murnau's SUNRISE (1927) and Jean Vigo's L'ATALANTE (1934). The highlight is a dream sequence which is worthy of Hitchcock. Hessling, wearing stark monochromatic make-up, gives a respectable silent film performance as the hapless orphan who goes from one mishap to another. The male performers acquit themselves well in what are essentially one-dimensional characters who are strictly plot motivated.

This new Kino Lorber Blu-Ray is a nice upgrade from the old 2007 Lionsgate DVD release. The picture has undergone a 4K restoration effort which helps to clear up some of the contrast issues especially in the night scenes and gives a sharper image throughout. The original concertina score by Marc Perrone has been replaced with one by Antonio Coppola. It is more user friendly in that it offers more variety but I prefer the original which enhances the bleakness of the story. The Blu-Ray comes with an audio commentary by critic Nick Pinkerton that provides background on Renoir and the film...For more reviews visit The Capsule Critic.