Topaze is a delightful old play, written by Marcel Pagnol and premiered in Paris in 1928, in which we witness the transformation of an obsessive moral teacher, deeply committed to the principles he teaches, into an unscrupulous millionaire, master of corruption and influence peddling. It's an ironic look at capitalist society, where honor is replaced by the power of wealth.
Interestingly, the first film adaptation of this play was made in Hollywood, in a 1933 film directed by French-Argentine aristocrat Harry d'Abbadie d'Arrast, starring John Barrymore and Myrna Loy. However, in the same year, a French adaptation directed by Louis J. Gasnier and starring Louis Juvet premiered. Pagnol only produced and directed a film adaptation of the play in 1936, with Alexandre Arnaudy in the lead role, but, perhaps dissatisfied with the result, he made a new film in 1951, this time with Fernandel as the protagonist. This is, therefore, the fourth film adaptation of the play and the author's second, but others would follow, including one directed and starred by Peter Sellers in 1961.
I've seen Barrymore's Topaze and now this one by Fernandel, so I can only compare these two. However, the majority opinion places this 1951 version as the more successful.
It's true that Fernandel's performance is magnificent, and other actors excel in their respective roles, such as Marcel Vallée as the greedy and amoral director Muche. But unlike the American adaptation, which is simpler and more direct, with a more refined, yet succinct, cinematic rhythm, this 1951 Topaze emerges as more theatrical, more rigorous, more loquacious, and perfectionist. The performances, especially Fernandel's, enhance the play's monumentality and integrity, but the film's rhythm suffers. While intelligent and insightful, it can still tire the viewer, being so long and dramatic, always filmed indoors, almost as if we were in a theater.
The play is a comedy, but not a farce; it doesn't generate easy laughs or have the lightness of burlesque. It's a long and profound satire on morality in contemporary society. Therefore, while highly appreciated for its irony and quality of writing, it's not a light experience for the viewer, failing by being overly long and slightly tiring. This is perhaps the reason why it has had so many film adaptations, two by the playwright himself, without any of them standing out as a true masterpiece, especially when compared to Pagnol's great cinematic successes of the 1930s, such as the Marseille trilogy or The Baker's Wife.
A work that belongs, in its essence, to the world of theater and has never proved easily adaptable to film. It lacks rhythm and a healthy dose of burlesque to soften the plot and win over moviegoers. But it still gaves memorable performances, at least from John Barrymore and Fernandel, the only ones I had the opportunity of seeing.
