Napoleon

I saw this back in '81 or '82, on the Big Screen at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, with Carmine Coppola conducting a live orchestra -- there has never been anything like that in all my movie-going experience! The closest that's come since was _Intolerance_, restored, with another live orchestra performing under the baton of the composer, Gillian Anderson (no, not the one from the X-Files). That, too, was an occasion to remember ... but where is Napoleon on DVD?

As many other reviewers have said, Napoleon was a relevatory experience. Certainly, other films to that point had used most of the devices Gance employed so brilliantly (except, of course, his three-screen-wide "Polyvision"), but then sound came in and the requirements of the microphone killed the recently mobilized camera. The camera became very static for at least the next ten years of films -- dynamic camera movements only returned when sound mixing came in to being, and scenes could be shot MOS (mit out sound), with foley and overdubbing replacing the missed sounds.

For this reason, Napoleon is important to see -- as a technical achievement. But Gance's artistry wasn't limited to gimmicks. His pacing, editing, and direction of the actors (including Dieudonne as Nappy -- looking amazingly Rod-Stewart-like) is excellent as well.

Highly recommended -- and when the DVD comes out -- hopefully, with the fuller, five-hour restoration, and Coppola's music on one track, with a reconstruction of the original music on another (and perhaps Gillian Anderson has a score of her own to share?) -- you'll owe it to yourself, as a student of Film, to see it, over and over again.

At the weekend i went to see Napoleon at the Royal Festival Hall in London. I am a relative newcomer to silent moves but too see a 5 and a half hour performance with the London Philarmonic Orchestra was incredible. Loved it, there seems to be some dispute with Coppola about the rights to this production, but if it is ever done again, it is something that any serious movie goer should make an attempt to see. And to prevent others from seeing this with an orchestra would be a travesty. The music by Carl Davies added another dimension to what was a fantastic film. It would appear that the work is a lifes work for Kevin Brownlow, he should be very proud of this acheivements.

... and remarkable even in it's current, truncated form. The film details the early life of Napoleon Bonaparte (Albert Dieudonne), from his unpleasant childhood in boarding school to his early military life during the French Revolution and the subsequent Reign of Terror, through to his first military victories and marriage to Josephine (Gina Manes). Also featuring Annabella and Abel Gance as Saint-Just.

Gance seems to have taken note of every cinematic technique of the previous 30 years of the medium, combining them all into a breathtaking, exhaustive epic that transcends the time of it's making while being wholly of it, as well. This could not exist with such strength as anything but a silent film, I feel, as the reliance on visual stimulus forced Gance into finding new and exciting ways to express emotion and mood. His early use of montage editing and super-imposition of imagery is stellar. The use of handheld cameras adds to the immediacy of the revolutionary scenes, conveying a newsreel touch that seems far advanced from other films of its day. The sets and costumes are very impressive, as is the cast of thousands. Dieudonne resembles Olivier's Richard III more than any other screen Napoleon that I've seen, but it works, and I wonder if this is the image I'll conjure in the future when thinking of the French military genius.

This movie has a storied existence, with multiple running times and edits throughout the decades. Gance's original version is said to have run over 9 hours, but subsequent edits ran as short as 115 minutes (the 1929 US release). Noted British film historian and preservationist Kevin Brownlow has made it his life's work to try and restore the movie as closely as possible to Gance's original vision. The version that I watched was the recently released BFI version, supervised by Brownlow, and it ran 333 minutes, or about 5 and a half hours. It's definitely a must see.

Four showings at the art deco palace Paramount Theatre in downtown Oakland on March 24, 25, 31 and April 1 will be a landmark for cinemaphiles. From the opening snowball fight to the closing triptych of the eagle's shadow leading the Grande Armee, there was so much to love. Abel Gance takes you on a journey that your mind gets to ride with distinct pleasures. Robespierre in the John Lennonesque sunglasses, the teaching of the Marsailles, the dinghy with an escaping Napoleon and the General Assembly simultaneously in stormy seas, are but a few. I can't imagine I'll ever watch this on DVD after seeing it like I did. I certainly could never consider a sped up 24pp version. I watched Metropolis once like that and it just wasn't the same film. In fact criminal. So weirdly, I recommend the film but can't recommend seeing it unless a better format is available. I'm going to buy Carl Davis' score and play the film in my head from memory, which includes the crowd at the Paramount rising to their feet at the close shouting Vive La France! Vive La Gance!

I had the privilege of seeing the restored version of this film, to the accompaniment of a live orchestra under the baton of Carmine Coppola, in Los Angeles' un-air-conditioned war memorial. Despite uncomfortable seating and terrible heat, the experience of this four hour movie remains a watershed for anyone who attended. To think that because of the invention of sound, this masterpiece was partially destroyed by Abel Gance in a fit of depression, is heartbreaking. More shocking is that Gance's invention of Cinemascope - of which today only the end of the film retains in its triptych screen effect - was lost to filmgoers until its reinvention years later.

Obviously true art can't be hidden forever, and Gance did live to see Napoleon take its rightful place in cinematic history. Though it is many years later, I can still remember the tears and the ovation when the black screen with the white signature, "Abel Gance", signified the end of the film. A compelling and great work of art.