La reine Élisabeth

Perhaps Sarah Bernhardt was a great theatre actress, but she was an awful film actress. As ignorant are the filmmakers who made this rubbish. Of course, the idea behind these productions from Adolph Zukor's Famous Players in Famous Plays, Pathé film d'art, or spectacles from Italy was to associate the new medium of film with the established art of theatre (often literature, too). The only decent legacy these films have is that they ushered in the age of feature-length films, but stagnating motion pictures to the grammar of the stage was of more consequence. The camera is stationary, the narrative is ridiculous and the acting is artificial and pretentious.

(Note: The version I saw was approximately 50 minutes and appeared to be at proper projection speed.)

A rare screen appearance from the Grand Dame of the French stage, Sarah Bernhardt. Sadly, it's not a particularly impressive showcase for her talents, not only because of the purely functional direction (static camera, no close-ups) but also due to the poor condition of the online print

As much as practices and norms of the stage were carried over into the brand new cinematic medium as it developed, precious few are those titles that were ported as directly as this was. As much a test for the future of movies as it was an opportunity for legendary Sarah Bernhardt to achieve still another level of immortality, this picture definitely shows its age with fuzzy, grainy image quality and relatively scant intertitles. The very fact that a 111-year old feature survives, however, automatically makes it a cultural treasure, and the fact that it's quite well done is more gratifying still. Make no mistake, the film-making techniques on hand in this case are just about as basic as cinema could get, yet that's only a reflection of its place in history and not its value. Though unquestionably simple by the standards of even a few years hence, there's no mistaking that 'Les Amours de la reine Élisabeth' was a major step forward for the new art form, and even today deserves to be revered.

Seen in some moments more than others, the acting certainly bears the distinction most viewers would recognize in the silent era of exaggerated body language and facial expressions. In some measure compensating for the lack of sound and verbal dialogue, the trait is also carried over from stage performance, which in this instance is especially understandable. With this having been observed I don't think there's otherwise anything super remarkable about the acting either way, but the cast are more than suitable in bringing the tableau to life as producer and co-director Louis Mercanton experimented with the new medium. More immediately noteworthy are the contributions of those behind the scenes, for the costume design is utterly gorgeous and heavily detailed. The sets are only half a step behind - perhaps less downright ornate, but nevertheless representing a bounty of visuals for us to take in at any given moment. Meanwhile, while some minutiae and the utmost fullness of Émile Moreau's play is surely lost in translation to film, it's also evident that the man understood the needs of Moving Pictures and ably shaped the narrative and scene writing to get around the lack of spoken words. To that point, whether Moreau or someone else specifically penned the intertitles I don't know, but either way they handily complement the action on-screen to communicate the plot.

Save perhaps for being one of the few Silver Screen appearances of Bernhardt, and the fundamental truth of being such an early "full-length" silent feature, there may not be anything about this that's super special. It's rather well done, almost incredibly so in light of how young the medium still was, and tells a compelling story despite obvious condensation, but isn't exactly revelatory. Modern viewers who have a hard time engaging with older titles won't find anything here to change their mind, and even for silent devotees this will probably stand out more as a beloved artifact than for any facet of its craftsmanship or storytelling. Be all that as it may, the fact remains that 'Les Amours de la reine Élisabeth' has held up stupendously since its release in 1912, and is as interesting and entertaining now as a relic of a time long past as it was for contemporary audiences watching a "Motion Picture" of more than just one or two reels. Unless one has a discrete motivation there might not be any reason to go out of your way to check this out, but if you do have the opportunity to watch 'Les Amours de la reine Élisabeth,' it's a classic that's well worth watching and remembering.

Paramount Pictures, one of the oldest movie studios in the world today, got its embryonic beginnings when Adolph Zukor, who immigrated from Austria-Hungary in the late 1800's, became involved with motion picture houses in 1903. A cousin asked the fairly wealthy furrier to invest in a vaudeville/movie theater he wanted to buy. Zukor eventually grew his cousin's business and sold his successful theater chain to Loews several years later. With profits in his pocket, he had an intuitive feeling through observations that movie audiences wanted to see big-name stage stars in longer films than the short 15-minute movies nickelodeons were offering.

In May 1912, Zukor and two very rich New York City theater owners formed the Famous Players Film Company. They eyed a movie in current production in France starring the stage legend Sarah Bernhardt. The French Studio making the film, "Queen Elizabeth," was about to declare bankruptcy and stop production when Zukor stepped in and funded the rest of the movie.

Zukor's company premiered the 53-minute film on July 12, 1912, in New York City. Audiences were enthralled with the long movie, reassuring Zukor's opinion people could sit through an hour-length film. He subsequently released "Queen Elizabeth" in several cities to packed theaters, whose audiences paid primarily to see the stage great Bernhardt on the big screen. The wealthy Zukor, under the Famous Players Film Company, then focused on big stage stars to produce feature films.

Today's audiences who view even a couple of minutes of "Queen Elizabeth" will wonder what all the hoopla was all about. In the midst of the young American directors coming up with new camera angles and creative plots, this French movie is a throwback to the films a few years before that contains a static camera basically recording a play--without sound. But "Queen Elizabeth," in the tradition of French d'Art, kicked off a tradition of high-brow feature films which changed the movie industry.

With this other movie from 1919, i discovered French history with an English production and it was about the favorite girl of a king. Here it's the opposite: it's about the favorite boy of a queen and it's a french production about English history! As i don't know the historical facts, i can't comment the story but there is a great dramatic tension: the love triangle (or even square), the ring artefact. Some find useless the captions that explain the scene BEFORE however for me they were essential and without them i would have been lost in the story. From a production point of view, i'm a bit disappointed: sure the period wardrobe looks cute as well the props but honestly they look like more spanish than british. About the big diva Sara Bernhardt, she left me cold: she was OK with pantomimes but what an awful make-up! her white head with a neck piece looks like she was wearing the Halloween mask, no kidding! And indeed the camera is still and it looks like a taped stage play. In a way, less stupid than King John from 1899 (a silent Shakespeare, appreciate the paradox!) but not a classic as the loves and hates of the mighty bores me ... deeply!