Le Monde du silence

In the mid-fifties, Jacques-Yves Cousteau was already famous and on the way to becoming a veritable institution. Cinema was an important element in gaining popularity, through the various short films (such as Épaves) that he made throughout the 1940s. The step forward, towards a work of greater brilliance, needed to be taken, corresponding after all to the status it already possessed and which could well be translated into the acquisition of the Calypso, the legendary ship specially equipped by the French navy for the Groupe d'Etudes et des Recherches Sousmarines directed by Cousteau. And that step forward was this Le Monde du Silence, chronicle of a great Calypso expedition sponsored by the National Geographic Society: Cousteau's first feature film, and his first color film - beautiful colors, the copy to be shown render full justice. Given the unprecedented nature of the experience, and because it was no longer compatible with the "artisanal" amateurism of some of his short films, Cousteau recruited the very young Louis Malle (he was then 23 years old) to oversee issues more directly related to cinematographic technique. (ending up recognizing him as the "co-author" of the film, since it was Malle who conceived most of the "dry" scenes), and chose Edmond Séchan as director of photography, who had worked with Albert Lamorisse (the director of Le Ballon Rouge) and was used to shooting under extraordinary circumstances.

As anyone who has seen Épaves will easily see, this increase in ambition translates into significant differences, not all of which lead to entirely positive results. From a technical point of view, it is obvious that the sea in Le Monde du Silence is much more spectacular, restored in all its polychrome, and guaranteeing moments that will not fail to fascinate the spectator who is usually more insensitive to "beautiful images". But, if we gain this, we may lose some of the "poetic" spontaneity of Épaves or of other of those early films, Paysages du Silence: contrary to what happened in them, in Le Monde du Silence Cousteau's didactic and scientific responsibilities now occupy the first flat, leaving little room for purely lyrical daydreaming. One can feel a greater adherence to reality (and to the "realism" of a mimetic tendency) and this results in a sea that is certainly much more beautiful but, with equal certainty, much colder. And one also feels (a reflection of Cousteau's status and ambitions) that the sea is no longer the only protagonist, having a strong rival in Calypso himself, in his crew and logically in the figure of Cousteau: we perceive it when the we see it in a work of "self-iconization", looking at the sea with a pipe in its mouth, or when the camera is more fascinated by the "gadgets" available to the team (the underwater "scooters", for example) than by the surrounding scenery.

On the other hand, it remains true that Le Monde du Silence faithfully fulfills its pedagogical purposes, in addition to having more than enough moments to justify the expectations that were naturally created around Cousteau's first production of this dimension. There are rare episodes, some curious (even at the level of mere scientific "fait-divers", such as the sequence of catching the lobsters), others more violent (the beautiful submarine "travelling" over the dead fish after the dynamite explosion on the reef of coral). But the film's greatest virtue resides in the fact that Cousteau, while still celebrating the harmony of nature (note the amazing shots of the birth of the baby turtles), does not fall into that idyllic vision that so often undermines projects with these characteristics. There is a brutal and savage dimension to nature that Cousteau does not forget to focus on: the best and most impressive moment of Le Monde du Silence will therefore be the whole sequence of the accidental death of the young whale (caught by the Calypso's propellers), whose blood attracts the shoal of sharks that will eventually devour it. Without subterfuge, nature reveals itself (also) in all its horror.

As he travels aboard his floating laboratory "Calypso", we follow the exploration of renowned marine adventurer Jacques Cousteau as he and his crew travel the world exploring the depths of the sea. He takes his kit to the deepest part of the water where neither man nor camera have ever been before, nowhere near the bottom but still as black as pitch and only slightly illuminated by their bright lamps. The photography would have offered many their first glimpse of whales, porpoises, giant turtles, sharks - and many in a natural environment that isn't always so easy to watch. Neither, it has to be said, are some of his methods. "In the name of science" would have been a defence for dynamiting fish so they can count the species, or leaving many on the beach to suffocate to death before they are photographed or dissected for the specimen jar. Whilst there can be no doubting this team had a respect and admiration for the natural world, they still had that superiority complex of mankind towards it and at times I simply didn't like the man nor his approach. That said, it was made at a time when the quest for knowledge was more along the lines of the end justifying the means and doubtless some of his astonishing discoveries will have informed a more enlightened touch to investigation in later years. Cousteau was a ground-breaker, no doubt, and his adaptation of technology to take us deeper and deeper in safer ways delivers us an fascinating look at what has long existed without the intervention of man. By no means how Sir David Attenborough would make it now, but of it's time it is an interesting and cleverly photographed look into the unknown.

I was looking forward to finally catching up with this old documentary and was saddened to see that despite the advances in underwater photography (in 1955), which brought the undersea life vividly to the screen, that every other aspect of the film was embarrassingly dated. I am referring specifically to the appalling behavior of the crew of the Calypso who bear scant resemblance to any naturalists and scientists we know of today, without an ounce of respect for the animals they encounter. Who in their right mind would set off dynamite in a lagoon, destroying coral reef and killing countless numbers of fish?? The only wildlife that gets off unscathed are the dolphins in the early part of the film – otherwise, everything else that gets in the path of the "explorers" is eaten, tormented, or killed outright: when they see a whale they rush on deck to harpoon it; when sharks start to work on the whale carcass, the men haul shark after shark on deck and feverishly beat them to death under the (highly scientific) rationale that "everybody hates sharks"; when they find a giant sea turtle they clutch on to it for a ride without any concern that it is struggling to the surface to breathe; when they find a group of tortoises on an island their only thoughts are to first stand on them and then use them for stools while they have lunch. Even good old Cousteau gets into the spirit of things by bringing his rifle on deck and shooting a whale in the head (well, it was probably suffering after they ran over it with the boat and then later harpooned it).

These guys would be up on criminal charges if they'd made this film today. Worth watching only as a historical curio to see how unenlightened people were back then.

Le Monde du Silence (The Silent World) is based on the best-selling book of the same name by famed oceanographer Jacques Cousteau. Set on board--and below--the good ship Calypso during an exploratory expedition, this feature-length documentary was co-directed by Cousteau and Louis Malle, whose first film this was (Cousteau selected Malle for this assignment immediately upon the latter's graduation from film school). Highlights include a shark attack on the carcass of a whale, and the discovery of a wrecked, sunken vessel. After winning adulation and awards at the Cannes Film Festival, Le Monde du Silence went on to claim an Academy Award. Much of the breathtaking underwater camera-work was photographed personally by Louis Malle, who thereafter confined his film-making activities to dry land.

See the underwater world through the eyes the divers of the Calipso and Jacques Yves Cousteau and Dumas.

This was Cousteau's first feature-length documentary film, which won the Grand Prize at the Cannes Film Festival in 1956, as well as an Oscar for best documentary, and became a true artistic landmark. Fascinating from its first frames, which show five divers descending through the blue expanse of the ocean. Each carries a bright flare, blazing a path of light into the murky ocean depths as a cascade of bubbles rises to the surface in their wake. "This is a motion-picture studio 65 feet under the sea," announces the narrator. These are Cousteau's "menfish" -- divers who, thanks to the aqualung, have gained the motility of creatures born to live in the sea.

They go deeper, to 200 feet, and enter what Cousteau calls "the world of rapture." At this depth, the body cannot process the increased levels of nitrogen in the bloodstream, and divers suffer from "nitrogen narcosis" -- an instantaneous intoxication that, Cousteau tells us, causes the coral to assume "nightmare shapes".

They dive deeper still, to 247 feet, and film the deepest shot ever taken at that time by a cameraman.

The latest precision cameras... the deepest dive yet filmed...' Things change, though. Whereas this was regarded at the time as irreproachable, improving, suitable for classroom bookings, the good Captain Cousteau and his all-male ensemble come across now, in 1998, as an aggravating lot, in their once natty '50s swimwear, amusing themselves by straddling giant turtles and turning them into agonising 'comic relief', or filling the screen with torrents of blood as they slaughter a passing school of sharks ('All sailors hate sharks'). On the other hand, the film-makers' intermittent poetic ambitions are strikingly justified as the cameras explore the wreck of a torpedoed freighter, the commentary becoming an elegy for the lost ship and her crew. The movie has acquired a further dimension as an apprentice work by co-director Louis Malle, though students of his oeuvre will need ingenuity to relate this to anything he made subsequently.

There is some amazing footage on this. The bell of a shipwreck is cleaned to reveal its identity 'The Thistlegorm'. Watch Dumas dancing with a giant grouper. See the team experience narcosis whilst catching lobsters below 60M!

If you have read the book of the same name you will have imagined the excitement and wonder that Cousteau and his team felt during their pioneering expeditions. Now you have a chance to see for yourself the original footage of Cousteau's adventures

I remember seeing this first Cousteau documentary when it came out and being totally enthralled. No one had shown use of aqualungs before, and compared to the previously used helmets with air hoses and cables, the amount of freedom allowed the divers was amazing. It opened up a whole new exotic world and made trips to the beach a lot more exciting. Compare this to the old Lloyd Bridges Sea Hunt TV show and there is no comparison - what can you do with those old cables and hoses attached? And besides, Cousteau was a master. I hope the Cousteau Society comes out with DVDs of this and other early works in my lifetime. English or subtitled. Fifty years is a long time to wait for a second viewing.