The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) - 20fps*
Directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer
Written by Carl Theodor Dreyer
Based on a novel by Joseph Delteil
Starring Renée Jeanne Falconetti
Dikemark Hospital is a mental institution in the municipality of Asker in Norway, and it was here in 1981 that an employee found canisters of film that had been stored for a long time in a janitor's closet. The canister's were labelled 'The Passion of Joan of Arc' and were sent to the Norwegian Film Institute where they sat for a further three years before they were examined. Decades earlier, in 1928 and '29, the original negatives of Carl Theodor Dreyer's
The Passion of Joan of Arc, possibly the greatest film ever made at the time of it's release, had been destroyed by fire much as Joan herself had centuries earlier - and it had been painstakingly reconstructed using for the most part second-best takes that had not been used for the original. It must have pained Dreyer a great deal to think that his film had been lost forever - and in subsequent years it had been mutilated further in an attempt to make it more commercially viable. It has now been resurrected - protected for film lovers by blind chance or providence, however one chooses to view it.
The Passion of Joan of Arc is a masterpiece in more ways than one. In mere decades since it's invention, the cinema had gone from being a novelty to a new art-form, and Dreyer a master ahead of his time. The French Société Générale des Films recognized this and invited him to make a film - by preference one about Marie Antoinette, Catherine de Medici or Joan of Arc. He chose the latter, and his cleverness is evident from it's outset. In the Paris Chamber of Deputies there exists a document going back to 1431 - the trail transcript of Joan of Arc's persecution at the hands of the French clerical court - enthralled by British invaders. Dreyer shows us an actual copy - though in all actuality it is the Latin translation of the original in French. It's leafed through in the present day, then we're taken back to 1431, with a scribe - the actual soon-to-be transcript in his hands. Thereby we make a link with the present, and are taken back 500 years with a wonderful device.
Dreyer was a filmmaker that believed an audience should experience film as a completely separate reality. That we should believe what we're witnessing is real, as if, in his own words, "we're witnessing reality through a keyhole." What a wonderful way to transpose ourselves into reality then, to use Joan of Arc's actual words in this film, echoing through history in the transcription of her trial. His other device works for most, but not all viewers - that of the extreme close-up. This is something that sets
The Passion of Joan of Arc apart from most other films. His use of close-up is relentless and all-encompassing. Establishing shots are rare-to-nonexistent, and we're taken directly into the minds and souls of the characters. Dryer himself, when the film was released, said "Everything human is expressed in the face, as the face is the mirror of the soul." Every crease and blemish is shown to us unadorned. Every tear, moment of surprise, feeling of frustration and anger is clear and thrust to the foreground. The soul is laid bare.
The excellence of Carl Theodor Dreyer's direction shouldn't be allowed to overshadow the acting of Renée Jeanne Falconetti, who gives a mesmerizing performance as Joan. She was helped by Dreyer almost torturing her as harshly as Joan was tortured, pushing her to the very limits of discomfort and emotional collapse. Falconetti was the only other person who watched the rushes of the film during it's production with Dreyer, and he credited her with the artistic success of the film. He considered himself only as the 'midwife' of his films, and told everyone that the actors were the real artists. The most a director could do is help them find the performance within themselves - but as far as painting on the canvas of celluloid, it was the actors who created a moving picture. Falconetti's Joan is one of the greatest acting triumphs in film history, but her trying experience turned her away from appearing in feature films. She would always be more comfortable on stage.
The sets were constructed with concrete, instead of the much more usual plaster. They were modelled on medieval drawings - and created with odd angles and perspectives like those drawings. This gives the viewer a dream-like feeling - the world not quite conforming to the usual, just as the trial of Joan of Arc was far beyond the usual. They're set mostly in the background, and despite not really being given any real prominence, they serve their role. Cinematographer Rudolph Maté was already a master of his profession, and combined with Dreyer producing many stunning techniques that presaged others by decades. Shadow is made great use of. Many shots are from a very low angle, and to effect this Dreyer had holes dug everywhere on his set. Some are dizzying, as when the characters themselves are dizzied by some of Joan's divinely inspired answers to her haranguing inquisitors. As her fate becomes sealed we fly to the top of our castle's ramparts and fall head over feet as spectators start to make themselves felt. The art of filmmaking was young, but these filmmakers have a sense of what the medium is capable of beyond their years.
To watch
Joan of Arc is to truly have a religious kind of film experience, and it's a film that truly feels timeless. It's authenticity lays at the very heart of it's director's feel of motion pictures. Within a traditional 5 act structure, new techniques and novel storytelling set it apart from all others. Condensed into a short space of time, we experience her trial, confession, recantation and eventual execution. The film doesn't shy away from her burning body, but this isn't for perverse exploitation - during the film truth is constantly pushed into our faces. Whether it be a baby suckling on her mother's breast, or Joan being bled to try and remedy a fever, we won't be allowed to turn away from the spectacle of her martyrdom or that of the body and soul. Through it all there is much symbolism - but not to the point where it starts to take us out of the film.
"The protective flames surrounded Joan's soul as she rose to heaven," the film tells us - perhaps trying to point out that we shouldn't necessarily see her harrowing execution in a sad and despairing light, but perhaps the opposite. This is an exultant film - Joan's triumph over her captors and as she herself pointed out, the moment she is set free and provided with a glorious victory. As a whole,
The Passion of Joan of Arc captures that sentiment magnificently and provides us with one of cinema's true masterpieces.