The Passion of Joan of Arc

Dir. Carl Theodore Dreyer, 1928



There are perhaps few who have not heard of Joan of Arc in some way, either as a martyr, French symbol, soldier, or literary character. This role has been performed in countless films and plays, and has been referenced in countless songs, stories, and even video games. Despite the fact that she is a real historical figure, everything about her appears mythological and fantastical. Even the most unsentimental history seems highly unlikely, and every telling of the story is riveting by its very nature. None more so than The Passion of Joan of Arc, an absolute wonder of a film whose focus is not the visions, battles or capture of Joan, but her emotional state and condemnation by religious tribunal.

As early as the opening scene, a shackled Joan is escorted heavily into a room lined with the disapproving faces of a bloated bunch of monastic fatcats who hold her fate in their hands. They patronize her, insult her, spit on her, threaten her with heresy and torture, and allow her to be humiliated by the jesterlike guards. Through it all, Joan watches and takes it, opening her eyes wide to the behavior around her and shedding tears for the dilemmas put before her. She knows that she has been ordained by god to lead the French armies to freedom from the English, but in order to stick to her guns, she has to deny Mass and communion, and accept a gruesome death. The sympathy or faith of a few monks is not enough to save her, and her death sets off a domino effect of dissatisfaction and rebellion among the peasants who live near the church.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about this film is that it requires complete suspension of disbelief. It is inconceivable that something that has such continuing relevance, visually and contextually, is over 80 years old. It's eye=opening to discover that so many cinematographic styles have a single source. Joan of Arc appears so modern because the composition of the frames, the camera angles, tracking shots and swift swings of the camera have been used everywhere since then. I had no idea that in the early days of cinema (for this is from the silent period), there was the technology to do such dramatic things with equipment. The most compelling aspect is the intimacy of the close-ups. Dreyer did not allow his actors to wear makeup, and good he did, as you would certainly be able to see it on the faces.

The faces are incredible. Both cartoonish and human, grotesque and familiar. I felt like each character looked like someone I knew or had met, and the name was just on the tip of my tongue.




The typical overly hammy performance of a silent movie star is completely absent here: the emotions are so raw. One can really empathize with the range of Joan's sorrows and fears, the snide judgments of the monks, the sympathy and pity of the few clergymen who believe in her, and the shifting curiosity and outrage of the peasants. It is a feat of human expression. Not only amazing for the time period that it comes from, but for any performance of any era.

I was fortunate to have seen this twice with the UC Alumni Chorus and an orchestra performing the score live. The piece that they performed was not the original from the 1928 release, but a more recent composition by Richard Einhorn, "Voices of Light." It has an appropriately hallowed sound to it, and the vocal talents were exemplary, making the entire spectacle all the more momentous. It was an engrossing and moving experience, one that I would revisit any time.

A Single Man

Dir. Tom Ford, 2009



A directorial debut is always an interesting venture. Sometimes, it reveals the filmmaker to be a visionary, a true artist, a person whose future work you greatly look forward to. Sometimes the first film appears somewhat sophomoric, and you either hope for this filmmaker to redeem him/herself with later films, or you don't particularly care. Somehow, A Single Man inspired in me all three of these sentiments. That which clothing designer Tom Ford did well, he did superbly, and where it was flawed, it seemed beyond correction. And yet, overall, it was enjoyable enough for me to be curious about the future directorial pursuits of Tom Ford.

A Single Man is based on the 1964 novel by Christopher Isherwood, and follows a middle-aged college professor, George Falconer (played by hot-again Colin Firth), whose partner of 16 years, Jim (Matthew Goode), has died relatively recently. We go through one day with him, from his morning routine to his day at work, the people he encounters and his memories. He has minor adventures that paint a kind of tableau of his perceived necessity of detachment and the pain of remembering. Occasionally, he feels a sense of joy or pleasure at seeing a handsome man or a beautiful setting, but it is bittersweet. Only when one of his pupils, Kenny Potter, takes a particular interest in him, does he start to reconsider his outlook on life.

It has to be said, it is really nice to see Colin Firth look good again. He was delicious as the Misters Darcy (Fitzwilliam and Mark), but after that, he's been kind of schlubby and slightly lame. But oh! Behold:



Ford, the designer for Gucci, Yves Saint Laurent Accessories, and his own label, pays a ridiculous amount of attention to the styling of both the characters and the settings, making all of the actors look irresistible, at their aesthetic best. Setting the film in the early 1960's provides an opportunity for a sleek, retro, modish wardrobe. Julianne Moore, who plays George's best friend, Charley, is a beautiful woman, and Ford dressed her to look devastating, drunk, wealthy, past her prime, sexy, and slightly pathetic all at the same time. Actually, it's not easy to tell how much the clothing helped, because Moore is a pretty good actress, and plays beautiful, sad drunks fairly often. But! She did look excellent.

The cinematography is quite stunning. The opening scenes are a series of wispy glances at what appears to be a naked person's body adumbrating through water. Later on, we experience a flashback to Jim and George at Vasquez Rocks together, and the light is so harsh, the black-and-white so contrasty and sharp, much like lying on sandstone in the sun feels. At the moments where George feels despair, the colors are muted and desaturated, but flush into vibrancy during his fleeting moments of sentimentality. These are the moments that the film was made for, seeing the world in the stylish splendor of a fashion designer. This is why I would recommend the film to someone, and this is why I would happily see another film of Tom Ford's, should he take on celluloid again.

Sadly, Ford's strength is also his weakness. In trying to make such a beautiful film, he sought out beautiful sets, beautiful clothing, and beautiful actors. This last component, while undeniably pleasing to the eye, is not always enjoyable to watch. For example, Kenny Potter, George's infatuated student, is played by Nicholas Hoult, who has become quite the beau-gosse since About A Boy.



Grown up quite a bit, hasn't he? He is quite handsome, but he is just not a good actor. He is, unfortunately, a very important character, so there are quite a few slow and pseudointellectual conversations between Kenny and George that can quite painful due to Hoult's lack of gravitas and, well, skill. The purpose of his scenes is largely to showcase his attractiveness and the carrot of possibility of a happy future that he presents to George, but we are not George. We are the audience, and to watch Hoult drone unconvincingly about fears of mortality is rather tedious.

I have not read the book, so I'm not sure how the sequence of events plays out in a written medium, but the film dragged a bit. There were quite a few moments that could have easily been the last scene, but it just kept going. Ultimately, the conclusion was appropriate and poignant, albeit somewhat predictable. The film is carried just enough by Firth and Moore and most of the visuals, so overall, it can be classified as worthwhile. It is something of an emotional quandary to judge a film like this; the good parts are really so good, and the mediocre parts are somewhat difficult to watch. In the end, I am heavily seduced by eye candy, and after a few days, I find the visuals to be the most memorable. They stand the test of the short term, and save the film from overall failure.