J'accuse

With the French losing almost one and a half million soldiers during the Great War, some of France's citizens deliberated whether the great cost in lives was worth the loses. Included in that group was Abel Gance, who wrote and directed the first anti-war movie in cinema, April 1919's "J'Accuse." The film, graphically displaying the carnage that took place over four years in his home country, was an instant classic and was heralded worldwide as accurately describing what shocks civilization sustained from 1914-1918.

A bout with tuberculosis decided Gance's fate in the war when, after being drafted into the French Army, he was shortly discharged for the illness. During the tail end of the war, after hearing the sad stories from his friends on the Western Front, he yearned to produce a movie about the trials they went through--as well as those of civilians far behind the battle lines. He received funding from Pathe, which became surprised at Gance's astronomical final production costs. But in the end, the box office success throughout continental Europe as well as D. W. Griffith's, who had viewed the film and was so impressed by it, control of its lucrative United States distribution, the film studio made an enormous profit from "J'Accuse."

To give the movie its authenticity, Gance re-enlisted in the French Army in its Section Cinématographique and filmed portions of the September 1918 Battle of Saint-Mihiel with the United States Army. His footage interweaves with other portions in the last third of "J'Accuse," which focuses on the front lines of the war.

As critics have pointed out, the first two-thirds play out as a melodrama, introducing the main protagonists, two men vying for the love of Edith, who is married to one of them, an abusive, jealous husband. The poet, who can be Gance in disguise, is the other, a pacifist who has been discharged from service due to illness. Ask if "J'Accuse' is more a pacifist film than an anti-war one, Gance replied, "I'm not interested in politics... But I am against war, because war is futile. Ten or twenty years afterward, one reflects that millions have died and all for nothing. One has found friends among one's old enemies, and enemies among one's friends." The two love interests of Edith end up comrades on the front when the poet re-enlists. Several sequences in that last third of the movie stick in viewers' minds: the soldiers, during a lull, write letters to loved ones at home (these are actual letters written by battle-hardened soldiers); the phantom of death walking among the soldiers preparing for an assault; and the recreated hand-to-hand encounters between the two opposing armies.

The "J'Accuse's" highlight, and the one studied in film schools today, is the "March of the Dead" sequence towards the film's conclusion. Gance was able to get two thousand French soldiers on leave to volunteer their time in acting as corpses from the battles rising from the ground. In what can be technically termed as the first depiction of zombies walking among the living (except these dead aren't the flesh-eating ones), "L'Accuse" shows the soldiers walking to the local village where they judge whether their death was worth their ultimate sacrifice. Hearing about a few scattered profiteers who unscrupulously made large sums of money from the war, these soldiers deliberate on the villagers' fates. Gance noted that out of the 2,000 soldiers in the film returning to the front, 80% became casualties in the last months of the war.

Film historians claim Gance's "J. Accuse" was 10 years ahead of his time with his unique lighting illustrating the French Impressionistic moods of delving deep into the emotions of the movie's characters, and his use of mobile camera movements. The financial success of the 1919 film allowed the director to produce even more ambitious movies in the future such as 1923's "La Roue" and 1927's "Napoleon." Gance even made an later talking film called "L'Accuse" in 1938, warning on the tensions developing as a prelude to World War Two.

Before I start, I am a bit confused. If the newly restored version just debuted this year, how come there are reviews that predate this? Could it be that they saw an extremely abbreviated version? Could it also be that some have reviewed a movie they never actually saw (something that's happened with the first Marx Brothers film and many other lost films). All I know is that this movie was assumed lost until quite recently and you may want to keep this in mind--the reviews were based, at best, on an earlier and less complete version.

UPDATE: After talking it over with one of the earlier reviewers, I learned that there WERE other extremely truncated versions floating out there on VHS. I am glad this cleared up my confusion and thank goodness we now have the fully restored Flicker Alley version!

While writer/director Abel Gance made two films called J'ACCUSE, they are both very, very different even though they are about WWI. The 1938 version is much more watchable but dated stylistically for 1938 and the 1919 version is overlong and has a blurred message BUT it also was much more important historically speaking, as for 1919, it was an incredibly innovative film.

Unlike the 1938 version, a very significant portion of this film is set before WWI--perhaps too much, as it seemed unnecessary and tended to make the film a bit overlong (at nearly three hours). However, the battle scenes were very good and until THE BIG PARADE and ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT, they were probably the best on film. Also, since it was made mostly in 1918, there is no post-war section to the film--the war had literally just ended. The 1938 film is MOSTLY set in the intervening years--including 1938.

The overall message is that war is bad and pointless, which is the same messages as the later film, but since it was mostly filmed DURING the war, there also seemed to be a much stronger anti-German bias. In other words, while war was seen as evil, so were the raping and murdering Germans. It's natural that in the midst of the war that it be portrayed that way, but it's a shame this anti-German bias was in this film and not the 1938 one (since, in WWII, the Germans were actually "the bad guy"--in WWI the German people and soldiers were victims just like everyone else). So the film suffers from the "blame it all on the Germans" myth.

As I mentioned above, there were multiple messages in the film. Another important plot in the film involves friendship and love--and in that sense it is a much more conventional story. Personally, I felt this aspect of the film was the least important.

Overall, a spectacular and seminal work--though one that isn't as spectacular today since better war and anti-war films have followed. The biggest problems are the stagy style, too much melodrama and its length--but when the film debuted in 1919, it was STILL much better and more watchable than most films coming out in Europe and America.

A truly underrated gem if ever there was one, J'Accuse, which comes from now renowned film-maker Abel Gance, is a striking, powerful and deeply moving wartime drama that packs punches, dances with the roses and howls at the moon all in the course of 160 minutes. Now known for works that came in the decade following the first World War, Gance establishes himself here in 1919 as a director willing to learn from his peers and do one better. Indeed, audiences at the time were more than firmly on his side. "Your name in England is, at present, more famous than Griffith's", an anecdote that rings true after watching J'Accuse in its most readily complete form available today thanks to the brilliant work in collaboration by Flicker Alley, Turner Classic Movies and Lobster Films in doing a terrific job restoring the film to its rightful, stylised beauty on DVD and Blu-Ray.

Set, produced and featuring actual footage shot on battlefields of World War I, Gance's seminal work here strives to do many things at once and while there are plenty who will argue he tries too much (or at least doesn't leave enough on the cutting room floor), I argue that with a few minor exceptions, J'Accuse is successful in its quest to marry poetry with war and terror with beauty, with a horizon that never seems to show itself. Sure, it's certainly guilty of being a bit overly-lofty at times. And yes, cutting back and forth between the film's two heavily-contrasted plots can be jarring, but I hardly think this was out of step with Gance's intentions. The film's theme essentially boils down to the blind getting in the way of each other and those lucky enough to have eyes thinking it best to ignore said unfortunates in order to get on with their own problems or indulgences in peace. By applying the juxtaposition of a serene, idyllic French countryside love-triangle against the harsh, cold grasp of war and death, the director sets up his idea, carries it forward and succeeds in bringing it to a very affecting close.

I would be amiss in failing to mention two other key players in J'Accuse's success however, and those are cinematographer Léonce-Henri Burel and the Robert Israel Orchestra who were commissioned for the restoration's soundtrack. Burel takes Gance's direction and runs with it. The battlefields are gloomy and frightening, the French countryside bright and warm to the eyes. Furthermore, whether it was under Burel's direction or not is unclear but, the film's various intertitle designs and abstract live-action imagery (the most striking perhaps occurring early on when family members prepare to leave their loved ones) make a profound emotional impact and showcase tonal photography techniques and styles not even Griffith had dreamed up yet, much of which is still utilised today in movies favouring mood and atmosphere. Lastly, the Robert Israel Orchestra punctuate Burel's photography with melancholic sweeping piano keys and piercing, wounded strings to round out one of the finest and most striking examples of silent-era cinema at its best.

I wish that we could read a comment from at least one of the 91 persons who gave a "1" rating to this silent film masterpiece. What were these 91 thinking? Do they hate all silents? Did they object to the length? If "J'Accuse!" is a "1," why did they suffer through its almost three-hour duration? If they gave up watching after 10 minutes, why bother to vote and muck up the weighted average, now standing at an absurd 6.4? Thank you, Turner Classic Movies, for making "J'Accuse" available to a wide audience. That network is most capably helping fill the void left by the shutting down of most of America's repertory film theaters.

Here's why I deem this the most important film of the first 20 years; DW Griffith also had a lofty message to impart in Intolerance, but his Victorian saga of humanism through the ages was removed from life, unfolding in the shadow of gigantic Hollywood sets for Babylon or in Judea at the time of Christ. It was comfortably nudged in its archaic pulpit. This is important to understand, by contrast. J'Accuse is not a historical epic on WWI. Gance was drafted in the French Army's Section Cinématographique, was discharged for ill-health, but appalled at the horror of the experience, decided to re-enlist and make a film about it. He filmed actual war booming away through the country, actual soldiers on leave from the front and expected back within days.

Oh, the bulk of the film away from the trenches is old-fashioned melodrama, likely to leave the modern viewer cold. What does hold power, is that it is about war inspiring Gance to make the film denouncing war.

See, our protagonist is an artist. Like Gance, he is a poet committed to pacifism and blessed with the gift of granting vision, look at the poem he recites to his elderly mother, rendered in silent images, the sun rising over heaving seas. This is a great moment, later repeated for contrast in the midst of muddy war.

So, the poet enlists in the army to save a girl he loves but is not his, not solely his at any rate, and is really the whole of France. This all preamble of course - a man who grants visions brought to where visions are possible, the mad theater of war. The most celebrated moment in the film is an actual vision, a poem he recites for an audience back home which has gathered to listen about life in the trenches.

It is the rousing sight of the dead rising from the battlefield.

Gance used for the scene 2000 soldiers who had come straight from Verdun and were due back eight days later. You have to appreciate the chilling significance of this. Gance was staging death for these people, and death that both parties could not have failed to know was a rehearsal for the real thing. Within weeks of their return, the majority of the soldiers were dead as presaged in the film.

So death staged for an audience gathered round back home, at the behest of this poet - now raving mad - who conjures a vision of cinematic phantoms, the dead gaunt and in clutches and tatters getting up from shallow graves to march all the way back and haunt the living. They Accuse! ungrateful parents, wives, brothers, who have not honored the sacrifice.

The maelstrom of self-reflexive notions was one of the most advanced things going on at the time, I was surprised really. Gance would go on to invent a new visual grammar with La Roue, and first inklings of that we see here in the rapid-fire cutting and agile camera in the battle scenes that reflect the anxious mobility tearing through Europe, that was really the fight for a modern world.