Abel Gance and the End of Silent Cinema
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Abel Gance and the End of Silent Cinema

Sounding out Utopia

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Abel Gance and the End of Silent Cinema

Sounding out Utopia

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About This Book

This book explores the creation and destruction of Abel Gance's most ambitious film project, and seeks to explain why his meteoric career was so nearly extinguished at the end of silent cinema. By 1929, Gance was France's most famous director. Acclaimed for his technical innovation and visual imagination, he was also admonished for the excessive length and expense of his productions. Gance's first sound film, La Fin du Monde (1930), was a critical and financial disaster so great that it nearly destroyed his career. But what went wrong? Gance claimed it was commercial sabotage whilst critics blamed the director's inexperience with new technology. Neither excuse is satisfactory. Based on extensive archival research, this book re-investigates the cultural background and aesthetic consequences of Gance's transition from silent filmmaking to sound cinema. La Fin du Monde is revealed to be only one element of an extraordinary cultural project to transformcinema into a universal religion and propagate its power through the League of Nations. From unfinished films to unrealized social revolutions, the reader is given a fascinating tour of Gance's lost cinematic utopia.

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Yes, you can access Abel Gance and the End of Silent Cinema by Paul Cuff in PDF and/or ePUB format, as well as other popular books in Media & Performing Arts & Film & Video. We have over one million books available in our catalogue for you to explore.

Information

Year
2016
ISBN
9783319388182
Part I
Overcoming the Past
Introduction
Central to Gance’s artistic ideology was his belief that films had the potential to morally transform individuals and society. The religious nature of the cinematic experience not only informs the nature of formal innovation in his films, but also the sheer scale and scope of the projects he undertook during the 1920s. Thanks to film’s populist form, universal language, and emotive power, every aspect of ‘human imagination’ could be given a ‘luminous resurrection’ on screens across the world (Gance 1927d: 96). Inspired by such enthusiasm for the power of the image, Gance set out to expand the cinematic format and appeal to global audiences in a number of grandiose projects. Those films that he found funding to realize were often only a fragment of their original conceptions. J’accuse, Napoléon, and La Fin du Monde were immense creations, yet all were intended to be part of much larger projects that were never completed. In particular, La Fin du Monde went through multiple abandoned scenarios and productions in a creative evolution that spanned nearly 20 years. Though even the surviving film is an abortive work, there is ample primary evidence to trace its cultural context; understanding the intellectual background of La Fin du Monde is essential to any textual evaluation.
The following four chapters examine the overlapping projects that led to La Fin du Monde, and focus in particular on the relationship between those that were completed and those that remained incomplete. This survey will demonstrate how Gance’s political and artistic ambitions developed over the course of his early career. I pay particular attention to the impact of the Great War, as well as the literary and philosophic sources that informed his reaction to political realities. I want to demonstrate the continuity between the earlier forms of Romanticism that underpinned Gance’s intellectualism and the foundations of cinema in the 20th century—not only in terms of its scientific basis, but also its mystical inclinations. Exploring the diverse and eclectic content of this ideology will not only aid an analysis of La Fin du Monde, but also demonstrate many of the continuities between Gance’s silent work and his first sound film.
Summary
Each of Gance’s major projects charts the evolution of his belief in the spiritual role of cinema, just as his characters embody the potential of individual agency. In 1913, Jean Diaz was a class warrior; by 1919, he had become a voice against the criminal neglect of a nation’s authority. In 1927, Napoléon Bonaparte represented an attempt to renew faith in humankind’s capacity for collective progress, as well as being an embodiment of cinema’s ability to enthuse and involve. Between 1918 and 1929, Jean Novalic became a figure of increasing assimilative power, one who could overcome the divisive social and ideological positions that had led the world to murder on an unprecedented scale. His role was a philosophical ‘prelude’ to ‘the rebuilding of noble values over the ruins of all those that compromised world peace’ (Gance 1912/29). From a medium of escapist entertainment, Gance had come to conceive of cinema as a force destined to supersede religion in its emotive engagement and spiritual sustenance. Blaise Cendrars summed up the utopian spirit of this cinematic age when he wrote:
Everything foretells that we are making our way toward a new synthesis of the human spirit, toward a new humanity, and that a race of new men is going to appear. Their language will be the cinema […] The floodgates of the new language are open […] Everything becomes possible! The Gospel of Tomorrow, the Spirit of Future Laws, the Scientific Epic, the Anticipatory Legend, the Vision of the Fourth Dimension of Existence, all the Interferences. Look! The Revolution. (1919–21: 165)
By the time he came to make La Fin du Monde at the end of the 1920s, Gance was the most prominent figure of the French film industry and the leading voice for his medium’s social importance. He proclaimed: ‘the major moral problems of humanity are at the present time at the root of all other serious problems, and the cinema must play its part as the magic, silent preacher’ (Gance 1925b). For some, this kind of proselytizing gave him the air of a Biblical prophet: ‘Formerly a poet, Gance is now becoming God; indeed, doesn’t the director bear a striking resemblance to our Heavenly Father? At his command, the light springs forth and a world is fashioned according to his will’ (Bing 1930: 217). This reputation was enhanced by his personal appearances on screen; Gance is introduced as author in the opening or closing credits of many of his silent films and is a lead actor within Napoléon and La Fin du Monde. In fact, the director’s roles defy the accusations of pomposity he has often attracted. Saint-Just embodies the Convention’s revolutionary zeal, but it is Bonaparte who spreads the Revolutionary cause—just as Jean hands his message of peace to Martial. The transitional quality of both characters suggests that Gance may have imagined himself as ‘a kind of John the Baptist of the cinema’ (Kramer and Welsh 1978: 107).
Having spent over ten years hoping to produce La Fin du Monde, in 1929 Gance believed his film could fulfil the greatest of cinematic and spiritual potential. However, as my next chapters explore, there were numerous warning signs that his ambitions would run aground on material realities. Despite Gance’s appearance as the prophet Novalic, ‘this God is subject to rigorous exigencies […] A director is a poet who has to know what time the trains run’ (Bing 1930: 217).
© The Author(s) 2016
Paul CuffAbel Gance and the End of Silent Cinema10.1007/978-3-319-38818-2_1
Begin Abstract

1. In the Shadow of War

Paul Cuff1
(1)
Warwick University, Coventry, UK
End Abstract

Medium and Message

Gance began his career in the industry as a screenwriter in 1908; instantly fascinated and inspired by this burgeoning medium, he directed his first film in 1912. Along with Ricciotto Canudo, Louis Delluc, Jean Epstein, Élie Faure, and Marcel L’Herbier, he was among the first generation of film theorists. Over the next two decades, Gance’s projects would gradually affirm his initial instinct that cinema was a new form of ‘faith’ that could radically reshape society (1912: 10). The development of his ideology can be traced through the form and content of his films, and particularly the fictional characters that embody their creator’s own sense of mission.
In France, the 1910s saw a boom in the quantity and quality of serial films: the genre helped expand both the narrative span and commercial scope of early cinema. Nick Carter (1908–09), Zigomar (1910–13), Fantômas (1913–14), Les Vampires (1915–16), Judex (1917), and Tih Minh (1919) transformed the pulp fiction of popular paperbacks into compelling cinematic worlds. Some of Gance’s earliest ideas as a film author involved exploiting this market for adventure and crime serials. These sketches contain the first outlines of several key characters and narratives that would appear in projects throughout Gance’s career in the silent era. In 1912–13, he began writing scenarios for a serial called Diaz le briseur de fortunes, whose eponymous hero was to be a champion of the lower class, fighting the rich industrialists who exploit their workers. In one storyline, an astronomer tells Diaz about a comet that he predicts will hit the Earth in 2014, news which the hero uses to manipulate his enemies (Icart 1983: 209). If Diaz was initially conceived as a socially minded hero in the manner of Judex, Gance was soon developing more mystical figures. Another outline of this period focuses on a prophet called Anne, an ‘inspired conductor of crowds’ who creates a ‘Temple of Beauty’ from which she preaches her message of peace (Gance 1912–20?; Gance 1912/29). Though none of these pre-war scenarios would advance beyond rough drafts, Diaz and Anne—the leader and the prophet—are the archetypes from which numerous Gance’s subsequent characters would descend.
In the summer of 1917, Gance returned to some of his earlier ideas and substantially reworked them. The character of Diaz was resurrected in order to play a central role in a trilogy of films about the Great War: J’accuse, Les Cicatrices, and La Société des Nations. At around the same time, Gance envisaged a trilogy that focused on religious themes: Soleil Noir, Les Atlantes, and La Fin du Monde. Here, the leading character was to be a prophet named Novalic—a male version of Anne from Gance’s pre-war scenario. The 1917 Novalic is Diaz’s brother, preaching to the poor and declaiming the rich. In Soleil Noir, he goes mad and Diaz must fight to fulfil his brother’s testament. In the subsequent episodes, the two men work together to convince the world of an imminent planetary invasion by Martians. The warring nations on Earth put aside their differences to stop this external threat (Gance 1930g: 159; Icart 1983: 209–11). As before, Gance discontinued work on both the war and religious trilogies before any individual screenplays were written.
The next film that Gance realized was La Dixième Symphonie (1918), shot in September–October 1917. This combined a family-oriented melodrama with an innovative exploration of the work of a great composer, Enric Damor (Séverin-Mars). The film’s most original sequence depicts the performance of Damor’s ‘Tenth Symphony’, which is visualized through elaborately hand-coloured visions of a dancer superimposed over lyrical natural landscapes. La Dixième Symphonie marked the stylistic highpoint of Gance’s early career, and its critical and commercial success encouraged him to resume work on his religious trilogy. Renaming the three episodes Ecce Homo, Le Royaume de la Terre, and La Fin du Monde, he developed the first of these into a full script. Here, Novalic is a spiritual missionary who possesses esoteric knowledge about the secrets of human happiness, gleaned from his study of Eastern philosophy whilst living in the Indies. On his return to France, he and his disciple, Geneviève d’Arc, establish the ‘Temple of Beauty’ and reach out to the poor and needy through a campaign of preaching. However, the materialist populace rejects his notions of equality and enlightenment and Novalic begins to lose his grip on reality entirely. After a nervous breakdown, he is committed to an asylum, where he resumes his sermonizing for the benefit of the other inmates. Unlike the bourgeois classes beyond the asylum walls, the madmen understand his message. Novalic is eventually brought back to sanity by Geneviève and his half-Indian son, who has returned from the east to aid his father. Upon his return to society, Novalic uses the new medium of cinema to make his message more readily understood.
After achieving funding from Charles Pathé, Ecce Homo entered production in April 1918 with Albert t’Serstevens in the role of Jean Novalic. Though the film was never completed, nearly three hours of footage survives from Ecce Homo, preserved in pristine 35 mm reels that were struck from the original negative. The film was made on location around Nice and the coast of southern France, and the sun-soaked landscapes are luminously photographed by Léonce-Henri Burel, who acted as Gance’s chief cameraman on most of his early films. The atmospheric coastal landscapes—particularly the shots of trees silhouetted against a glimmering sea—foreshadow similar natural evocations in J’accuse and in the Corsican scenes of Napoléon. The rushes from Ecce Homo include one fault...

Table of contents

  1. Cover
  2. Frontmatter
  3. 1. Overcoming the Past
  4. 2. Impossible Dreams
  5. 3. The Marvel of Ruins
  6. Backmatter