J'accuse

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.

J'Accuse! (1919)

*** (out of 4)

The French masters 166-minute epic tells the story of two soldiers, Francois (Severin-Mars) and Jean (Romuald Joube), both in love with the same woman but she is married to the much older Francois but has an affair with Jean. This is very impressive film from French director Gance but I think it falls short compared to his two classic epics that would follow this one. I think this films biggest problem is its running time, which seems a tad bit too long especially a few of the talking scenes, which run on and on. On the technical side this film is nearly flawless with Gance taking the influence of Griffith and really pushing it to a new level. The most impressive thing in the film are the amazing war scenes, which are downright brilliant and they really make you feel as if you are a part of the action. The scenes with the men in the trenches contain some great atmosphere and the sense of dread runs throughout these scenes. The most famous sequence in the film, and in film history, is the "March of the Dead" sequence, which takes nearly twenty-minutes and comes towards the end of the movie. This is certainly one of the most eerie and haunting sequences in film history and the main reason this anti-war film is still remembered today. The way Gance points the finger at the folks who weren't in the war and either living it up having fun or making money off the war, comes off very creepy and the message is certainly right there on the screen. The effects used to show the dead walking are very well done and the atmosphere here is so thick that you'll feel as if you can feel them walking towards you. The performances are all very good with Mars and Joube really sticking out. As I said, I think the film runs a tad bit too long but this is still a very impressive film with one of the greatest sequences in film history.

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.

This film by Abel Gance was lost for many years but has now been restored from a number of sources and made available for viewing by the Nederlands Museum. Gance's later silent spectacular Napoleon is rightly revered for its innovation and inventiveness - but is the same true of his war epic, J'accuse?

In three parts, this film is first a conventional love triangle between the tiresome and bullied Edith, her drunken husband Francois, and dreaming poet Jean. But when the great war strikes, it will affect them all in ways they can't imagine.

With some great images, especially in parts one and two, and for the most part, restrained acting, J'accuse is a powerful plea against the waste of war. For a film made ninety years ago, it has a modern feel with numerous close-ups, overlays, and other camera tricks. Although a bit ponderous in places it does not flag and is still extremely watchable, and relevant in a world where war has not yet become a thing of the past.

J'accuse deserves to be regarded highly, and shows Gance to have been a skilled and ahead-of-time filmmaker in the silent era.