La Belle Et La Bete [Beauty and the Beast]

Jean Cocteau, France 1946, 90 minutes

Returning home through the woods, Beauty's father leaves the path in search of a rose to give to his daughter and unwittingly enters the Beast's magical chateau. The next morning, he meets the fearsome Beast, who will only let him leave on condition that he sends one of his daughters to the chateau. The two ugly sisters refuse the proposition, whereas the virtuous, obedient Beauty consents. The Beast tries to hide his ugliness from her, but nevertheless she is able to discern his underlying goodness beneath the fearsome demeanour.

After a time, he lets her leave his magic kingdom, hoping that she will decide to return forever. She does but, unfortunately, so too do Beauty's betrothed and another ne'er-do-well, intent on stealing the Beast's treasure.

Jean Cocteau's interpretation of the myth, drawing its inspiration from Mme Leprince de Beaumont's mid-18th century version of the tale, presents viewers with an awkward combination of adult sophistication and childish naivete. References to Vermeer and De Hooch, or to Orpheus and Euridice - a constant in the poet/artist/what-have-you's film-making, from his first Blood of a Poet through his last The Testament of Orpheus - are likely to escape the Disney constituency. But the fact that it's in black-and-white and French obviously won't. Yet, consciously primitive Melies-like effects, or pantomiming ugly sisters, require sophisticated adult viewers to play phenomenological tricks on themselves.

Those willing to accept Cocteau's contract - he pleads our indulgence and suspension of disbelief in a written preamble - will find the film enchanting. But even hard-headed cynics, who cannot (dis)believe, may find Henri Alekan's beautiful cinematography and the sumptuous - though low-budget - production design adequate rewards in themselves.

Review by Michel Gentil
Written for EUFS Programme Spring 2004

A merchant and widower, lives in a country mansion with his son Ludovic (a rascal) and his three daughters Felicie, Adelaide and Belle (Josette Day). The latter is reduced to the status of house slave by her two sisters, who are selfish and pretentious. Avenant (Jean Marais), one of her brother's friends, would like to marry Belle however. One day, the merchant undertakes a trip in a desperate effort to save his business. On the way back he gets lost and wanders into a mysterious castle where, in the garden, he picks a rose for Belle. The owner of the castle, a man with the frightening head of a beast (Jean Marais again) appears and tells him he must die unless one of his daughters is willing to take his place. The father returns home in consternation. Belle though, is ready to sacrifice herself in order to save him and goes to the beast's castle.

Cocteau refused to use camera techniques, such as hazy images, conventionally associated with the magical world of fairytales, substituting these with Henri Alekan's sharp, crisp photography. In this way he was able to film an imaginary story with the clear precision of reality, forcing the viewer to become immersed in a world of fantasy created with all the sensitivity of his poet's mind. The costumes and set designs are of outstanding beauty and contribute much to the mysterious, sometimes slightly threatening, fairy-tale-like atmosphere. Watch out in particular for the scene where Belle goes down a corridor of the castle lit by candelabras held by arms sticking out of the wall.

Josette Day has the perfect virginal beauty of Belle and Jean Marais excels in the role of the beast. He brings out (from beneath the extraordinary makeup) the anguish and pain of a being craving love, but condemned to a repulsive appearance and the bestial instincts from which he longs to be delivered.

Review by Katia Saint-Peron
Taken from EUFS Programme 1997-98