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Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Blu-ray Review: Beauty and the Beast (Criterion Collection)

I wish I could remember the first time I watched Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast (La Belle et la Bete). It was certainly no more than only three years ago, after I received it as part of Criterion's Janus Collection, but it must have been before I started my regular What I Watched columns. Nevertheless, it was an absolute stunner and one I have to admit I didn't expect to overwhelm me as much as it did.
This is a film with few imperfections if any. The magic behind the effects may be obvious, but they remain magical nonetheless. I imagine the makeup Jean Marais wears as the Beast will make some modern audience members laugh at first sight, but I have to also believe should those same audience members endure the whole of this film's 93 minutes, by the time it is over they too will yearn for the Beast to return.
Cocteau's imagination, Henri Alekan's cinematography, the makeup by Hagop Arakelian, the costumes by Marcel Escoffier and the performance by Marais are all elements that stand without measure.
When I say some audiences may laugh at the makeup Marais wears as the Beast it's not because it's bad (quite the contrary in fact), but because it's an image filmmakers of today infrequently attempt without the aid of CGI. Though, it's not unheard of for a modern film to employ the classic techniques of old, as Rick Baker and Dave Elsey won an Oscar for their work on The Wolfman, though some creature effects from that film still enjoyed certain elements of CG.
The cinematography by Alekan is a tale of light and shadows and the most impressive element is seen early as Marcel Andre as Belle's father ascends the steps leading up to the Beast's castle. As he nears the top step his shadow plays catch up, and once it fully covers the castle door it pushes open, as if the shadow holds a weight of its own.
Then there's Marais, whose voice was altered as the Beast, but remains a performance to behold. Marais also plays Avenant, a young suitor interested in Belle's (Josette Day) hand, a change from Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont's original story, but a change that leads to an ending that will have you wringing your hands for the most unexpected of reasons. This is due to Cocteau's screenplay and Marais' ability to tell a story through the eyes of the Beast in a way that captivates you every minute he's on screen.
Criterion's Blu-ray is a solid upgrade from their 2003 restored edition, but I was a bit surprised there wasn't a greater amount of contrast in the darker visual elements. This, however, doesn't diminish the presentation in the least as I have to assume that's how Cocteau shot it and to crank up the contrast would be to disregard the film's intention and lose a lot of the detail. As a result, this HD presentation remains a richly detailed and stunning release from the first frame to the last. The uncompressed mono track is excellent and even holds greater appeal when compared to the included 5.1 DTS-HD Master track featuring Philip Glass’ opera based on Cocteau's film, which was made, and is meant, to be played in time with the feature. Glass' opera gives a fascinating, alternate viewing, but nothing compares to the film's true intentions.
The features are all ported over from the original DVD release including a pair of informative commentaries by film historian Arthur Knight and another by writer and cultural historian Sir Christopher Frayling. A 1995 documentary called "Screening at the Majestic" is a solid making-of feature with interviews with a large number of the cast and crew and a separate interview with Alekan is just as fascinating. Finally, outside of a pair of trailers, there is a short "Secrets professionnels: Tete-a-tete" excerpt featuring notes from makeup artist Hagop Arakelian, whose work I've already mentioned.
On top of the included features, the 32-page booklet is something I also had to drink in, which includes an essay by film critic Geoffrey O'Brien , a 1947 piece on the film by Cocteau, excerpts from Francis Steegmuller's 1970 "Cocteau: A Biography" and an introduction to Glass' opera by the composer. Unfortunately the reprint of Mme. Beaumont's original fable is only available with the DVD edition, replaced here with O'Brien's piece. Oh well, I guess I can just read it here.
In the end, if you are looking for a reason to believe in the magic of cinema I can't think of another film at the moment I would rather suggest. Cocteau opens the film with a disclaimer, which he ends by saying, "I ask of you a little of this childlike simplicity, and to bring us luck, let me speak four truly magic words, childhood's 'Open Sesame': 'Once upon a time…'" Personally, I'm not a fan of this opening, I think it diminishes a film that doesn't need to alert the audience to think as a child and give way to potential fantasies a child may believe and an adult may scoff at. Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast is above exception and formulaic rules, it is perfect in so many ways that you can't help but get lost in its magic.
I was happy before to know that I owned this gem, and to now own it on Blu-ray, in what is likely to be the film's definitive edition for many years to come, I am ecstatic

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