La kermesse héroïque

Based upon a novel by Charles Spaak this could be seen as a variation on the theme of 'Lysistrata' by Aristophanes, in which the women of Athens and Sparta deny their partners any sex until peace has been restored.

In Jacques Feyder's masterpiece from the Golden Age of French cinema the women of a Flemish town decide to bestow their favours on the occupying Spanish soldiers so as to avoid bloodshed. It must be said that once they have set eyes on their swarthy conquerers they do not require much persuasion and set about their task with relish.

It was this aspect in particular that caused so much outrage in certain quarters as it was seen to deride heroic resistance and to favour collaboration. Once war had broken out Goebbels had the film banned whilst the director and his actress wife Francoise Rosay were obliged to leave France to avoid the unwelcome attentions of the Gestapo.

Feyder responded to criticism by saying that his intention was to celebrate the glories of his country's art from the Sixteenth and Seventeenth centuries. He has certainly succeeded in this as he and his team have us enabled to step into the world of Hals and Vermeer.

Under the supervision of legendary art director Georges Wahkévitch an entire town was meticulously constructed in a Paris suburb, using cement, real steel and plaster instead of the usual papier maché and cardboard. This, together with the cinematography of Harry Stradling, costume design of Georges K. Benda and luscious score by Louis Beydts all combine to give us a film that is in itself a work of art.

It would be well nigh impossible to assemble a cast of this quality now. The role of the Burgermaster's wife is probably the magnificent Francoise Rosay's most iconic. She is complemented by André Alerme's pompous and pusillanimous husband and the highly civilised Spanish nobleman of Jean Murat. In an early role Louis Jouvet effortlessly steals his scenes as a worldly monk. Every character is beautifully drawn and special mention must be made of Alfred Adam as the butcher and Lyne Clevers as the fish-wife.

Following the rather sombre 'Pension Mimosas', Feyder felt the need to do something lighter and this mock-heroic farce is indisputably his greatest achievement. He once described himself as 'an artisan working in an industry.' In this he was being unduly modest.

The women hold a big banquet and all of the Spanish officers are invited. However, one of them is not interested and prefers to stay indoors and do his needlepoint. One of the village men is also not interested so the officer invites him to bring out his knitting. They discuss what kind of stitches to use and the officer opines that a particular stitch feels nicer on the leg.

The scene is perfectly innocent, but how interesting that already in 1935 they had the idea that maybe not all of the soldiers wanted to be seduced by women! And they actually dared to put the scene in! :)

The question of just what the Mayoress has done with the Duke is left unsaid, but probably also would never have passed the Hays Office in Hollywood.

During the Spanish domination of the Netherlands and throughout the so-called Eighty Years' War, a group of soldiers led by the Count-Duke of Olivares enters a Flemish town. When the village of Boom, in Flanders, learns a Spanish Duke (Jean Murat) and his troops scheme to pass the night, the army deserts and the Burgomaster (André Alerme) plays dead; so the Burgomaster's wife (Francoise Rosay) organizes the townswomen to greet the invaders and preserve the peace with womanly wiles. The invaders discover all the men have disappeared Le duc d'Olivarès and Le chapelain (Louis Jouvet) are surprised by this situation. So the town's ruler hides, while the women prepare a triumphant reception hoping for clemency. First approved then condemned by the Legion of Decency !. First Prize Winning French Film Hit!

This is a sly drama about a village that postpones its possible destruction and so women decide to avoid it by seducing the invaders, colaborating with their conquerors and freely offering their goods during carnival season. The film won the Grand Prix du Cinema Française and created a great deal of controversy. La Kermesse héroïque (1935) (also known as Carnival in Flanders) was a meticulously staged period film which aroused some contemporary political resonances. It earned fame and fortune for Feyder , getting several international awards.

¨Kermesse heroique¨ reputed to be one of Goebbels' favorite films. It also was considered a poor statement to make the rest of the world in light of what Nazi Germany and Italy were attempting to do a their neighbors. A subtle, clever work and one of Feyder 's finest achievements , this classic is a conscious effort to recreate on celluloid the great paintings of the master depicting village life during carnival time . Interesting and enjoyable film on many levels.

The motion picture was well directed by Jaques Feyder. In 1917, Feyder had married Parisian-born actress Françoise Rosay (1891-1974), she acted in many of his films and collaborated with him as writer and assistant director on Visages d'enfants. Jacques started directing films for Gaumont in 1916, but his career was interrupted by service with the Belgian army during 1917-1919. After the end of the war, he returned to filmmaking and quickly built a reputation as one of the most innovative directors in French cinema. Directed Missing Husbands (1921), shot on location in the Sahara, followed by another big success, Crainquebille (1922) two years later. Briefly with MGM in Hollywood, 1928-32, but did not enjoy the experience and returned to France. Directed his best film, Carnival in Flanders (1935) in 1935. After filming Knight Without Armor (1937) for Alexander Korda, L'Atlantide (1921) based on the novel by Pierre Benoit), and Crainquebille (1922) were his first major films to achieve public and critical attention. La Kermesse heoique rating: 6.5/10. Essential and indispensable seeing for the classic french films.

...because of the American production code. In early-17th century Flanders, at the town of Boom, a Spanish duke (Jean Murat) and his advisors are due to stop over for the night. The townsfolk panic, as they believe the "savage Spaniards" will rape and pillage their small village. So the burgomaster (Andre Alerme) and his sharp-witted wife (Francoise Rosay) devise a plan wherein many of the menfolk will pretend to be dead and the "widows" will be accommodating to the visitors. The plan works, only too well, as the women find the Spanish visitors virile and attractive in comparison to their fat and lazy husbands.

This is a fun, bawdy, lighthearted historical fiction that doesn't skimp on period detail. The costumes are elaborate and fascinating, from the corsets to the giant frilled collars to the over-sized pants. The performers are entertaining, especially the ladies, playing a range of flustered flirtation and nervous excitement. There are sly comments about the church of the time, and the hedonistic impulses of even the most chaste. Marcel Carne was one of the assistant directors.

A classic of French pre-War cinema, Carnival in Flanders by the great Jacques Feyder is the most devious and cruel satire you might ever come across. Set in early 17th-century Flanders, which had previously been under Spanish rule, the story opens with shots of a busy village preparing for the yearly carnival, when the news break that the Spanish Duke Olivares and his troops plan to stay in town. At the prospect of looting and raping militia men, the flabby mayor of the well-to-do provincial nest called Boom volunteers, as he puts it, "to sacrifice" himself: his plan to pretend he has just passed away, thus hoping to convince Olivares to bypass the mourning town, is eagerly adopted by his timorous menfolk. But while the males go about staging the mock funeral, the women, led by the mayor's energetic wife, take over the action and, in turn, decide to "sacrifice" themselves to the soldiers. What follows is a grand tale of sexual libertinage and deception with a "happy end" of sorts where virtually no-one is redeemed. (The original title, La Kermesse héroïque, literally The Heroic Fête, operates in much the same way as Milos Forman's early satirical masterpiece, The Fireman's Ball, 1967, and the parallels are numerous; no doubt Forman had taken a second look at Feyder's Kermesse during his studies.) What immediately strikes one today is Feyder's directness in exposing his characters' human flaws, which is hardly subdued by the general satirical tone. The way adultery, homosexuality and eroticism but also greed, cowardice and deceit are depicted leaves one speechless at times, and certainly wondering how political correctness and all sorts of profit policies and conservatisms have infested modern-day cinema to a point it would no longer dare think to produce anything like this. Not to speak of the 1930s Hollywood counterparts, for which Feyder would have been light years off the mark, proving the point that there was and still is such a thing as the "French cultural exception". Apart from the latent debauchery creeping out into the open from the cozy interiors of a model town, the film also has multiple strings of side puns that keep its pace up at all times – from spot-on character studies (the mayor, the artist, the butcher...) to hysterical history sidekicks (using a fork for the first time, Spaniards wondering what "beer" is, impious remarks on Dutch painting...). Most strikingly, it is a hallucinatory mockery of the Dutch and their supposed idiosyncrasies: avarice, Protestant pragmatism, self-righteous "middle-class" rule, bogus worldliness, you name it. This goes to such an extent that it has been repeatedly claimed that Feyder had intended an allegory of the Dutch's collaboration with the German occupier in WWI – and from today's perspective, one is tempted to grant it visionary power as well, since substantial parts of the Flamish-speaking population of Belgium were eager supporters of Nazi rule. This assumption makes sense once you've witnessed the cold-blooded irreverence and unmasked sarcasm Feyder uses to unmask his species, which is surpassed only (in literature) by the untouchable Molière. Clearly, all formal issues had to serve this main objective – the Vaudeville acting, the picturesque film set, the matter-of-fact filming, and not least the purpose-built dialogues. So, although you should not expect a formidably audacious experiment in film-making, you will be treated a deliciously immoral chamber piece on sexual banter and other not so politically correct behaviour. Released in 1935, it is also a cruel reminder of how conservative the world – and its cultural output – has become as of late.