O Eclipse do Sol com a Lua

One of a number of oddities in the filmography of Georges Méliès, this feature combines an offbeat story with an array of visual effects to create an interesting, if strange, one-reel film. Most of the visual effects are close to Méliès's usual standard, and on the few occasions when they are not, it is usually the idea that is uninteresting, as opposed to the execution being faulty. Only on a couple of occasions do some of the seams show; the rest of the time Méliès's craftsmanship makes the best use of his resources.

The narrative intertwines two subplots, both of which are unusual in different ways. The main story shows a distinguished professor who is trying to teach astronomy to a group of eager but restless students. This is sandwiched around some sequences that depict the activities of various celestial bodies, which are given quasi-human personalities.

The scenes of the professor and his students consist mostly of slapstick, which is of uneven quality but has some good moments. The middle sequence has a weird courtship scene between a female moon and a male sun (both of whom are remarkably unattractive, for whatever reason), followed by a weird and suggestive succession of images of the activities of some other anthropomorphic astronomical objects.

The individual visual effects are not always particularly impressive, but the sequence as a whole lends itself to all kinds of possible responses and speculations. There are probably a lot of different ways that you could take it, depending on whether you were a Freudian, a Jungian, or a devotee of some other school of psychology.

All of this makes the movie not really one of Méliès's best or most impressive efforts, but it's certainly unusual. He had quite an imagination, and when he gave free rein to it, the results were always interesting, if nothing else.

In this marvellous Melies fantasy, an eccentric astronomer is overwhelmed by excitement at the approaching eclipse. His students make fun of him initially but then become excited too as the moon approaches the sun.

Through the astronomer's telescope we see the man in the moon winking at the man in the sun. Both begin to lick their lips and wriggle their tongues with excitement as they draw closer together. Finally the sun goes behind the moon, and the man in the moon's face suggests orgasm!!

Finally they part again looking exhausted and satisfied. And the sky explodes in an orgy of sperm-like stars, each one carrying a scantily clad woman or man.

Surely this must be the first gay love scene ever put on film. It's hard to believe it's happening in a 1907 movie. You've gotta see it to believe it.

Great mix of gorgeous special effects, slapstick comedy and eroticism. One of Melies best!

Unlike most other reviewers of this film I found it quite dull, and wondered as I watched, whether it was around this time that Melies began losing touch with the development of the motion pictures. As filmmakers became more confident of their own abilities and that of their equipment more realistic stories set in real locations became more commonplace, but Melies was still staging his films against painted backdrops and producing the same kind of stories he was making in 1902.

The most remarkable thing about this film is the eclipse itself in which it is obvious that the movement of the sun and moon is equated with the act of sex. It would look like a cheap laugh if it was made today, but to see it in a film more than 100 years old is quite extraordinary. Apart from this sequence, the film's scenes last too long and the comedy isn't really that funny even by the standards of the early 20th century.

An astronomer of age, wealth, and erudition conducts classes in his home. His students are not always respectful, and he suffers their pranks and high jinks. Then, at noon, everything darkens and the astronomer hurries upstairs to his telescope. It is an eclipse of the sun, and through his glass, he sees a female moon coming toward a masculine sun, flirting as they move closer to what becomes a consummation...

As others have noted, this is not Melies' best work. It is still a fine film, with more than its share of humor. And quality-wise, it has held up much better than "A Trip to the Moon" (1902) and looks as clean and clear as any modern film.

If possible, catch this film live. The patio in Chicago played it in April 2015 with Jay Warren on the organ. This completely changes the way the film is experienced when you get that in-house sound.

The eclipse scene is certainly this film's most provocative point of interest. As usual in Méliès's films, the sun and moon appear with human faces, but what's curious is that the film quite clearly depicts the eclipse as an act of sex. The expressions of delight and orgasm from the feminine moon, in addition to the increased movement of the sun's rays from behind, leave viewers without doubt about that. This scene is followed by scenes of wandering stars and a meteor shower, with, again, as usual of Méliès, people as part of the celestial bodies. Originally, as John Frazer has pointed out ("Artificially Arranged Scenes"), this was the entirety of the film. It appeared as part of multi-media programs at the Folies Bergère. For this market, the sexualized eclipse was surely appropriate and appreciated. Méliès had already been doing well with commissions from music halls for his films, such as "The Adventurous Automobile Trip" and "The Merry Frolics of Satan".

Apparently, it was for adding the film to his general film catalogue that Méliès added the wrapper of the astronomy class. For what it is, it isn't bad, with Méliès playing the professor, who is made fun of by his students and by his own overexcitement. Overall, "The Eclipse" displays fantastical and theatrical elements typical in Méliès's oeuvre. Unlike some of his earlier films, however, dissolves don't dominate as transitions and the continuity, aided by title cards, is more modern and somewhat cinematic rather than the overly theatrical tableau vivant style. The transition from the eclipse scene to the wandering stars is especially good, as it's moving scenery of clouds that seems like, but is not, a dolly, or downward crane into the clouds. Méliès had previously moved scenery and props to the effect of seeming like the camera moved, which it very rarely, if ever, did in Méliès's films, but this instance is a rare example of its use as a transition between scenes. Moreover, by this time, the theatrics in Méliès's films had become more elaborate. The moving scenery and performers stringed to stars and planets, as well as the three-layered cinematic multiple exposure effect for the meteor shower bare evidence of this.