Carmen

The relationship between cinema and opera has always been a bit on-off, but occasionally has yielded some good things. Cecil B. De Mille was one of the first filmmakers to acknowledge the similarities between the two mediums, creating what was perhaps the first true opera film.

The casting of renowned opera star Geraldine Farrar was more than just a publicity stunt. Screen acting was still in development, but opera acting – which is similar in that plot and character must primarily revealed visually through gesture and presence – had been going for centuries. Farrar fits right in on the screen, giving a realistic performance with a touch of dynamic dramatics – the style that De Mille favoured and that was central to his silent era work.

Farrar apparently enjoyed the freedom of not being so constrained by the music, and being able to act in her own time. However, De Mille's Carmen is still very much an adaptation of Georges Bizet's opera, rather than Prosper Merimee's novel. It not only follows the opera's libretto more closely than it does the original text, certain key sequences do appear to have been staged to fit Bizet's music – in particular the final climactic scene. Funnily enough, when Raoul Walsh made his Carmen the same year, he deliberately based it on the novel, not the opera, as Fox could not afford the hefty fee for the rights to the libretto. Sadly Walsh's version, which he goes into some detail about in his autobiography, is lost.

In Carmen we can also see the De Mille style which made his silent films so watchable was really beginning to mature. One of the best things about his silent pictures is the sparseness of the intertitles. Not only are they used purely when necessary, De Mille also ensures they are spaced out we are never bombarded with them. Whereas many silent films might have a title when a character asks a question, followed a few seconds later by another title giving the response, with De Mille each title stands alone. If two characters are talking to each other, the majority of the conversation will be conveyed by gesture, expression and context. This means that the flow of each scene is not broken up. A good example is when Don Jose and Carmen are dancing in the tavern, Don Jose hears the bugler calling him back to his post, he is reluctant to go, but an officer persuades him. Whereas many other directors would have interrupted this sequence with two or three speech titles, De Mille credits the audience with the ability to be able to read the scene visually, which allows us to really watch the performances.

De Mille was also coming along in his handling of crowds scenes – the extras in the cigarette factory and the bullring look particularly naturalistic, although he perhaps needed a bit more practice and drawing the audience's eyes to the most important part of the frame. Another De Mille trademark makes an early appearance here too – the scene in which Carmen has her fortune read is shown with "Rembrandt lighting", that is with actors illuminated while that background is shrouded in darkness. This not only gives a moody atmosphere, it also isolates characters, really focusing us upon their performance.

Good as he was, De Mille was certainly also a rather pompous and pretentious figure, and it seems his contemporaries were already onto him. Charlie Chaplin's brilliant Burlesque on Carmen expertly skewers the seriousness of De Mille's vision (the parody is clearly based on this version, mimicking the sets, costumes and even some of the camera set ups). In his autobiography Walsh also talks about rushing out his version in order to upstage his rival (although he was a single day late). The self-important De Mille was probably more or less deserving of this derision, but he still made some great films. It is also interesting that De Mille, Walsh and Chaplin all took on Carmen at this time, as it was these three very different directors who would now take over from Griffith as being at the forefront of cinematic development.

Geraldine Farrar (as Carmen) is a Gypsy involved with a gang of smugglers; to help them, she agrees to deflect Officer Wallace Reid (as Don Jose)'s attention with a seduction. Mr. Reid is so smitten with Ms. Farrar, he decides to pursue her; but Farrar only has eyes for bullfighter Pedro de Cordoba (as Escamillo)… Farrar, with a flower in her teeth, is unintentionally amusing (and not very convincing to modern eyes) as a seductress. Nonetheless, she was a big Metropolitan Opera star, and Bizet's "Carmen" proved to be a popular film debut. In fact, Motion Picture Magazine conducted an extensive poll to determine "Screen Masterpieces of Acting". and Farrar's "Carmen" was the best female performance of the year 1915; she outpolled not only Mae Marsh (in "Birth of a Nation") and Mary Pickford (in "Rags"), but also Theda Bara in a competing version of "Carmen".

A movie highlight is Farrar letting her hair down and cat-fighting with another woman in the cigarette factory where they work - and almost ripping the other woman's shirt off! Reid is a very handsome leading man, who doesn't overact throughout; making a scene where he nearly rapes Farrar more convincing. Mr. de Cordoba always uses his eyes to great advantage. Cecil B. DeMille shows improvement as a director - near the end, Farrar and de Cordoba play a nicely staged scene before the bullfight; though, Farrar ruins it by approaching the camera like she's going to take a bow. After the bullfight, Reid and Farrar take more "affective" bows.

****** Carmen (10/31/15) Cecil B. DeMille ~ Geraldine Farrar, Wallace Reid, Pedro de Cordoba, Horace B. Carpenter

This early screen version of the famous French tragic grand opera is worth viewing, if nothing else, for the grand performance and exquisite beauty of opera diva Geraldine Farrar. However this is a worthy piece of early cinema. The great DeMille was honing his craft and his innovativeness was evidently seen in the various techniques and tinting of certain scenes. These were very effective to create a certain ambience necessary to the story. I think all these elements peaked the following year with the great epic "Joan the Woman." I would still have to count this as the best screen version of the celebrated Merimee story. Through the years there have been various adaptations, one being 1954's "Carmen Jones", with Dorothy Dandridge. This was set with a contemporary black cast of the time. But to me there is no other Carmen but Farrar. The role, the whole story just seems tailor made for her. The fine 1997 score featuring Bizet's famous compositons were ideally synchronized to accompany the appropriate scenes. I highly recommend this film. Ms. Farrar is fabulous.

Sunday January 15, 4:00pm The Paramount Theater

By 1915 Geraldine Farrar had established herself as premier soprano of the opera world. With radio nearly a decade away, her phonograph records had found their way into millions of homes. These audible wonders of the modern age made Farrar immensely popular. Records could not convey the wonderful theatrics of her performance on the stage. She held a captive audience from La Scala to San Francisco and chose the moment of her greatest popularity to step in front of the camera. Farrar was drawn into this other new and equally exciting indulgence of motion pictures by one of the greatest popular directors of the day, Cecil B. DeMille. For two years she was the jewel in his crown, making six feature films for DeMille, five with her co-star Wallace Reid. Film work also allowed Farrar to rest her fragile voice after years of abuse. Her brilliance and intensity on stage was fully realized in these films, which made Farrar unique in both the worlds of opera and film. No other performer had ever approached this simultaneous degree of popularity and success. Legions of obsessed young fans even referred to themselves as "Gerry–flappers". Among the brightest stars in the universe of twentieth century entertainment, Farrar also became a great social leveler, horrifying the class conscious opera world by lowering herself to the level of common everyday moviegoers. In turn, the price of a ticket offered the illusion of entering the privileged world of Grand Opera. There are sadly only two of these six films known to survive today, they are however, likely the best, Carmen and Joan The Woman. They are also among the very best works of C. B. DeMille. Carmen is the story of a wild and beautiful gypsy girl from Seville. She seduces handsome young Don José, ruins him, betrays him, and in the passionate climax of the story he seeks his revenge. Few tales have gained such admiration and have been retold in film and on the stage as often. Carmen was the greatest role of Geraldine Farrar's illustrious career and the signature piece for which she was known around the world. She played the dark-haired cigarette girl of Prosper Mérimés' novella with ferocious intensity for decades. Signing this legendary star to a multi-picture contract with his greatest director Cecil B. Demille was quite a feather in the cap for Jesse Lasky. Wisely, DeMille insisted Farrar shoot another film, "Marie Rose" first, so she could acclimate to the film environment. The first picture was then held back until after Carmen was released. On screen Farrar displayed a magnetic and effortless, natural quality. Two scenes in particular are tremendously exciting, the first, a knockdown drag-out fight between Carmen and another girl in the cigarette factory was added to the original story for the film, the other is the spectacular finale at the bullring. The fight, with DeMille's future screenwriter Jeanie Macpherson, created such a sensation it has been included in most versions of the story ever since.

Geraldine Farrar and Wallace Reid make for a sexy couple in this 1915 Cecil B. DeMille production of Carmen. Fast-paced, action-packed, and containing little of the overacting common of the earlier 1910s, this film is for those who think old movies were all creaky, dull affairs for a naive, prudish audience.

Though not as visually stunning as his production of The Cheat (1915), DeMille shows great skill behind the camera here. Though there are one or two moments of stagey set-ups, for the most part, this is cinematic through and through.

I know The Birth of a Nation (1915) is an important film and all, but honestly, DeMille's one-two punch of Carmen and The Cheat make for much more fun (and less morally repugnant) viewing.