A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Friday, March 13, 2020

The Story of a Cheat (Sacha Guitry, 1936)

Marguerite Moreno and Sacha Guitry in The Story of a Cheat
Cast: Sacha Guitry, Marguerite Moreno, Jacqueline Delubac, Rosine Deréan, Roger Duchesne, Elmire Vautier, Serge Grave, Fréhel, Pierre Assy, Henri Peiffert. Screenplay: Sacha Guitry. Cinematography: Marcel Lucien. Art direction: Henri Ménessier. Film editing: Myriam Borsoutsky. Music: Adolphe Borchard.

The word that occurs to me for Sacha Guitry's The Story of a Cheat is "droll." It reminds me of a Gallic version of those postwar Alec Guinness comedies, like Kind Hearts and Coronets (Robert Hamer, 1949) and The Lavender Hill Mob (Charles Crichton, 1951), in which people do criminal and even cruel things but the film remains lighthearted. It begins, after all, with the death of 11 people, all members of the protagonist's family, when he is 12 years old. Eventually, he is seduced into a life of thievery by three women. In the film, he is in his 50s, writing his memoirs at a table in a café, narrating the film in voiceover -- there is little actual dialogue. For those of us who aren't fluent in French and rely on subtitles, it's almost like a silent movie with a constant flow of title cards. Guitry -- writer, director, and star -- is a charmer whose work was profoundly influential on French film, and I hope to see more of his work in the coming weeks.
Posted by at
Links: , , , , , , , , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)