Les berceaux

The first of three musical pieces where Kirsanoff teamed behind the camera with Boris Kaufman, dp of Vigo at the time and brother of one Dennis (alias Dziga Vertov), dubbed cinephonies and would probably have screened before a feature; music videos we would call them now.

All three are short, visual, elemental, feature water and women. Here a lone mother in a dark room rocks a cradle while outside the window the sea heaves and splashes; images of waves on a shore; images of boats battling the waves. She's lulling a baby to sleep while probably singing for a husband who is out to sea.

It's a music performance in the foreground, turbulent cinematic form in the background.

As do most cinephiles, I first got onto avant-garde filmmaker Dimitri Kirsanoff through 'Ménilmontant (1926).' Though I quite enjoyed this effort, the determinedly-disorientating editing style, for me, kept it from being the masterpiece many proclaim. 'Les Berceaux / The Cradles' fortunately sees Kirsanoff severely toning down his erratic editing, and, indeed, you'd be tempted to believe that the director had forgotten his passion for Soviet montage in the intervening decade. This five-minute musical short film most strongly recalled Sergei Eisenstein and Grigori Aleksandrov's similar 'Romance Sentimentale (1930),' in that both films feature only singing female protagonists accompanied by a visual montage. But, as I mentioned, Kirsanoff's montage is slow, meditative; he finds a relaxing serenity in the woman's (Ninon Vallin) voice, as if conscious that quick-cut editing would likely interrupt the peacefulness of her song. Instead, he favours slow cross-fades and transitional wipes, and even utilises an imaginative visual technique to avoid transitions altogether.

From what I gathered, 'Les Berceaux' is about the dedicated sailors who venture out into the deepest ocean, and the wives who must await their return. The woman sits in her living room, gently rocking her infant's cradle as she sings, the movement mimicking the rolling motion of the ocean waves. Many men will lose their lives to the ocean's vast waters, but the juxtaposition of death and life (in the cradle) suggests an endless and noble cycle. Kirsanoff imaginatively places a rear-projection screen outside the woman's window, through which, as she sings, we can watch the ocean waves lapping up against the shore, or the ship charging majestically over the water. Also worth noting is that the film was photographed by Boris Kaufman, who later also shot 'On the Waterfront (1954)' and '12 Angry Men (1957).' In all, 'Les Berceaux' is a pensive and peaceful ode to a life at sea, and fans of Kirsanoff should certainly seek it out.