Crainquebille

Crainquebille (1922)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

French film from director Jacques Feyder about a poor vegetable peddler (Maurice de Feraudy) who has a misunderstanding with a cop and ends up spending two weeks in jail. The peddler was loved by everyone but when he's released from prison he finds that everyone has turned their backs on him. There's a lot to like about this film but at the same time there's a lot not to like. Technically this film is near perfect. There's some terrific cinematography here and the use of tinting comes to wonderful effect. There's two scenes of fantasy, one taking place in a courtroom and the other being a nightmare sequence. Both segments are incredibly well done with a wonderful touch of surrealism that really jumps off the screen. de Feraudy is also perfect in his role and director Feyder keeps the film moving at a lightning pace. So, what's the problem? There isn't a single emotion to be found in the film. I didn't laugh, there wasn't any suspense and there was really any drama so I'm really not sure what the film was going for outside the visual quality.

The first minutes are outwardly simple to the point of being ham-handed, yet I deeply admire the shrewd means by which they actually serve to smoothly introduce us to characters and establish the setting. Mixing in touches of the more common expository techniques we see in the silent era, the film deftly lays the foundation for a tale of poverty juxtaposed with fine living, kindness and cruelty, lightheartedness and dour human drama, the mercurial whims of public perception, and the unreason, arbitrariness, and corruption of the "criminal justice system." There's further underhanded but cutting commentary in the basic human amenities afforded to prisoners, essential needs which the average person is made to pay for in their own lives and sometimes can't afford. Yet for all the themes and ideas that 'Crainquebille' broaches with surprising fullness, all these and many more, it does so briskly in a runtime well under the modern norm for full-length feature. Moreover, one can easily imagine how the same story threads might be approached and significantly expanded upon if Anatole France's tale were adapted in the twenty-first century, yet for however tragic or infuriating the picture may be in turn in this 1922 rendition, it maintains a certain sprightly quality that keeps the proceedings from becoming wholly mired in the more downbeat moments.

All this is to say that from a fundamental standpoint of the writing - dialogue (as related through intertitles), scenes, characters, and the narrative at large - this movie is unexpectedly smart and calculated, with all parts bent toward spotlighting the major thoughts underlying the plot. I can only congratulate filmmaker Jacques Feyder for such sharp intelligence, which extends also to his orchestration of shots and scenes as director, infusing each with a small spark to keep us handily engaged. Assembled as well with some clever instances of cinematography, editing, and otherwise visual effects, 'Crainquebille' is characterized by a gratifying level of wit and skill across the board, down to the excellent costume design, makeup, and sets. To that point, the cast also demonstrates commendable nuance in their acting, and it's a pleasure just to watch them ply their trade. It's only natural that Maurice de Féraudy should stand out most as the title character, but it's no mistake that he was given the lead role, for he brings the man to life with a completeness and vitality in his performance that's most welcome; meaning no disrespect to his co-stars, de Féraudy definitely takes the spotlight (if anything second only to the screenplay).

The end result of all this, I'm happy to say, is a silent classic that's highly enjoyable even as it dallies with timeless themes that are quick to make the blood boil - enjoyable, and very satisfying. The tale may be relatively straightforward and unsophisticated, yet by all means it's all that it needs to be to keep one solidly invested. Why, more recent films with all the advantages of big budgets and huge star power sometimes struggle to attain so strong a measure of emotional depth and impact as this readily does. The absolute heartfelt sincerity of the production, storytelling and film-making alike, shines through from start to finish, not least in the exquisite last few minutes. I can understand how some modern audiences have a hard time abiding older features, and I'd have said the same myself at one time. But good movies are good movies, no matter their age, and this is one that holds up tremendously well 100 years later. It perhaps isn't so remarkable as to totally demand viewership, yet whether one is specifically a fan of the silent era or just looking for something good to watch generally, Jacques Feyder's 'Crainquebille' is an exceptionally well done, absorbing slice of early cinema that continues to stand tall on its own merits. If you have the opportunity to check it out, this is well worth anyone's time.

Jacques Feyder possessed a unique eye towards filmmaking. Growing up in Belgium, Feyder took to acting on the French stage when he was older. His interests eventually morphed towards cinema, hired in 1914 by Gaumont Films as an assistant director. After serving in World War One, he secured a head director's position at Gaumont. When he helmed November 1922's "Crainquebille," critics realized they were witnessing a new style in film. There were no terms yet to describe Feyder's first critically-acclaimed movie, but his aesthetics transformed the look and feel of French movies, so much so that he influenced successor directors to a new cinematic form in what is now called 'poetic realism.' French directors such as Jean Vigo, Julien Duvivier, Jean Renoir and Marcel Carne, have followed Feyder's pioneering aesthetics in recreating a naturalist look in movies, despite some sequences filmed inside a studio. Poetic realism follows a pattern of an outsider, frustrated with life, experiences an incident serving as a tipping point. Its characters possess both nostalgia and bitterness in the waning years of their lives.

"Crainquebille" is a quintessential poetic realistic film. Adapted from a Anatole France novel, the movie follows a poor aging vegetable street seller who is confronted by a police officer in the middle of a crowded city avenue who's demanding he move his cart. Waiting for money a customer promised to pay when she purchased a bunch of vegetables, the vendor said something the officer mistakenly thought was a threat on his life. He's arrested and hauled into court, where the proceedings become a surrealistic display of indifference and predetermined judgement on the poor man's guilt. The sequence, studied today for its framing and positioning of the court's participants, had an impact on the audience illustrating how stacked the deck is for those caught up in the web of so-called justice.

Once released from prison, the vendor sees his business ruined since he's shunned as an ex-convict. Facing starvation, he tries to get arrested again since prison gave him food and shelter. But frustrated at how arbitrary justice is, he's unable to return to the comforts of jail. Ready to jump off a bridge, he's talked out of it by a boy, played by Jean Forest. Feyder claimed he discovered Jean when he and his wife were dining in Montmartre and spotted him playing in the street with other boys. This was Forest's first of 12 films he was featured.

"Crainquebille" was hailed by critics as a major work in French cinema. Even D. W. Griffith, not the easiest man to please reviewing other directors' work, was effusive in his praise. "I have seen a film that, for me, symbolizes Paris," wrote the director. "That man with his barrow load of vegetables - what a striking image - and how forceful! A fine work, beautiful, compelling, bold!" The New York Times called "Crainquebille" one of the best movies of the year.

Due to the well-known extravagances so characteristic of the aristocracy, this German Count has sometimes declared his liking for frenchified silent films and among those his affection for Jacques Feyder's oeuvre. Some time ago this German Count had the chance to watch an abridged version of one of the French director's earlier films, "Crainquebille", a film that was very acceptable to strict German tastes; so when some rumors reached the Schloss that the German-French ( an impossible alliance, certainly ) TV channel "ARTE" would show a beautifully restored and tinted version of that film, it was a great opportunity to check if the film in its entirety promised as much as the abridged version.

And that's true, certainly; "Crainquebille" is a beautiful and poetic film that tells the story of a street seller who sells vegetables from his oxcart in the Paris market; due to an incident with a policemen he spends some days in prison, and when he finally comes out of jail everything has changed for him. "Crainquebille" is an astonishing and remarkable film for many reasons: for the technical aspects, because the mastery of Jacques Feyder is in every shot and conception of the film; special and visual effects ( Dr. Mathieu's nightmare, the sequence of Crainquebille in the court ); also excellent cinematography ( the marketplace sequences and specially the night shots ) by Herr Léonce-Henri Burel & Herr Maurice Foster that enriches the film and the story in an excellent way. Besides the technical aspects, "Crainquebille" is remarkable for Feyder's poetry, full of sensibility and not fussiness, which is difficult to do because many directors might have made a very different and worse film from such a story ( there is even an orphaned paper boy with a dog… ). When it depicts the different ordinary people that can be seen, sellers, shop assistants, policemen, prostitutes, judges or doctors, a kind of human symphony emerges, as real as life itself; the film also inserts criticisms about social injustices, social degradation and even injustice in the application of justice.

"Crainquebille" is a piece of real life, a kind of documentary of the people who lived in Paris ( or in any great city of the world ) during the 20's, their harsh lives depicted with some sense of humor and hope, a beautiful film that bets always for the honesty and the honest people, a marvelous masterpiece, indeed.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must take a walk on the wild side for an aristocrat, that is to say, in the street market.

There's one thing to note here, the old man's subjective experience of the courtroom where he's on trial, and later on the nightmare where it is more vividly relived; figures are unnaturally large or small, blacks and whites are inverted, and the judges storm from their pedestals across the room in thunderous slow-motion. It's an arresting sequence of internal anxieties.

So even though the film has been jotted down in film history as realist - the Parisian marketplace bustling with activity, the sellers pushing their carts down cobble-streets - it is this, impressionist we call it now, inversed look of objective reality from inside the mirror that strikes some spark now.

But compared to what more renowned French filmmakers - Gance, Epstein, L'Herbier - were attempting at the time or were gearing to, it leaves something to be desired. Example: the state prosecutor, whose court rhetorics intimidate the simple old man, is envisioned as gigantic; but Feyder frames him in a full shot that makes the court appear miniscule and the prosecutor normal, which is clearly not what was intended from what the intertitle lets us gather.

So it is all a bit improvised for effect, in an effort, that was taken up in France at the time, to distend cinema from the theatrical point-of-view foisted upon it by the earlier generation of filmmakers.

The moral of the story is actually more interesting; it is not the rigid, surreal system of law and justice that tears the individual, this anomy is endured with quiet, baffled dignity and some measure of ritual fatalism, but the society that bestows a final respect on the word of this system; a collective whole which Feyder reveals to be thoroughly hypocritical, petty, small-minded, and ultimately heartless.

So it is not surprsing that the guardian angel turns out to be a kid; not yet swallowed in this collective cruelty, a person who can see from the heart.

Other than that, there are some lovely evening atmospheres that you may want to see; empty streets lined up with lights, a bridge across an expanse of water. It's all painterly, quite evocative of a sense of place.