Dead at 29 from tuberculosis French filmmaker Jean Vigo left behind just one feature length film and three shorts. Despite his meager output, Vigo was a major influence on the French New Wave of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Today, he remains a unique and respected talent in film. His work has been revived and issued on video throughout the world. Inexplicably, in America Vigo’s films have often been subjected to substandard transfers. Thankfully, that slight has been corrected with Criterion’s recent release of The Complete Jean Vigo on Both Blu-ray and DVD.
Vigo’s life’s work amounts to less than three hours of screen time. Like many great artists before him, his work was a failure during his lifetime, only to gain legendary status years later. Francois Truffaut, Lindsay Anderson, and Eric Rohmer among others, have all cited Vigo as a major influence on their work.
Vigo’s first film, the twenty-three minute À propos de Nice (1930) is less a travel documentary and more a derisive examination of the social classes. As early morning dawns on the French Riviera, the town of Nice slowly prepares for the day ahead. Cafe’s set up their pavement tables, streets are cleaned and the palm trees are harvested. Soon the streets are bustling with people, young and old, all looking their best, hoping to be noticed. Just as the beauty of Nice has been established, Vigo begins to pull back the shiny veneer to reveal the economic ruin and social decay that exists right alongside the happy, relaxed vacationers. Through a series of symbolic, surrealistic images (a woman’s clothes simply fade away, leaving her naked, as the city is ‘laid bare’), Vigo throws back the curtain on the grim realities of Nice and the incredible excesses that exist to cover it all up.
À propos de Nice is nothing short of a visual masterpiece. Never wasting a single shot, Vigo expertly captures how both sides of the economic strata live, without being to heavy handed. Silently, Vigo does more to capture the people, mood, and emotion of a place in twenty-three minutes than many directors’ do in a full length feature film.
At a mere nine minutes, Taris (1931), is a rather simple, yet captivating tribute to Olympic, and 29 time French swimming champion Jean Taris. Taris explains the mechanics of his sport—the crawl, the breaststroke, etc. The fascinating techniques to watch here are the narrative, photographic and editing techniques employed by Vigo to relay the information. He uses using slow-motion, underwater photography and dramatic underwater lighting, which makes an otherwise potentially boring subject captivating.
Vigo’s father, a prominent Spanish/Catalan militant anarchist who adopted the name Miguel Almereyda, was strangled in prison when Jean was just 12. He was subsequently sent to boarding school under an assumed name. One has to believe that Jean’s boarding school experiences informed his third film, the forty-four minute Zéro de conduite (Zero for Conduct) (1933). The film is set in a repressive boarding school where the rules are harsh; adults petty, and arbitrary in their punishments. Transgressions result in a “zero for conduct” and Sunday detention. The only caring adult, Huguet (Jean Dasté), is a Chaplin-esque monitor who ignores the boys’ typically chaotic behavior, and isn’t above occasionally joining in. The Headmaster is a authoritarian midget who keeps his top hat under a bell jar on a mantle that he can barely reach.
The rebelliousness takes a more serious turn after a boy named Tabard (Gérard de Bédarieux), experiences unwanted physical attention from one of the male teachers. After the boy swears at him, school authorities demand that Tabard publicly apologize. The boys soon become fed up with their teachers and lead a rebellion against the school.
Shot similar to a battle scene, we witness boys marching in slow motion, a naked body reveling in anarchic rebellion, flags proudly waving the jolly roger in an ecstatic display of childhood abandon. Clearly Vigo’s most personal work, it reflects his nihilist view of childhood. He shows these children finding a way to break free from the oppressive shackles of their adult ‘caretakers.’
Zéro de conduite is, in many ways, the spiritual antithesis to Vigo’s last film, the feature length L’Atalante (1934). The story begins with a wedding that occurs offscreen. First mate Père Jules (Michel Simon) and a cabin boy (Louis Lefevre) run out of the church in their wedding finery to get their barge ready. Shortly thereafter, the newly married couple emerges from the church. Followed by the guests, they head for the docked barge. Before she can even change out of her wedding dress, the bride Juliette (Dita Parlo) finds herself on board and beginning her new life as a barge wife.
As the captain, Jean (Jean Daste), shoves off, Juliette climbs up top and walks up the length of the barge as it moves down river. Vigo and his cinematographer Boris Kaufman (who later shot On the Waterfront) keep her in frame with the river and the boat moving opposite her.
It takes Père Jules some time to get used to having Juliette aboard, but he’s smitten when she uses him as a model while hemming her dress. He shows her his collection of things gathered remarkable use of the limited space on board the ship, especially Père Jules’ overcrowded quarters filled with his collection of stray cats. Vigo makes the film feel both cramped and roomy at the same time.
In time, Juliette itches to see Paris. A traveling salesman (Gilles Margaritis) persuades her to run off. Juliette goes window-shopping and finds herself enthralled by the moving figurines. Soon though, she discovers the darker side of the city, with its thieves and poor, hungry residents. Soon, she finds herself longing for the comfort of the barge. Paris, like the barge, is shown to be both beautiful and sad.
Though L’Atalante is a love story, Père Jules is the central character. It is he who accepts Julliete on the ship, and it’s he who brings her back in the end. Actor Michael Simon, with his mashed face and gorilla arms brings unexpected depth to a character that would appear to be a big oaf. He also creates the only moments of delightful realism, such as when he demonstrates a wrestling move with himself.
Criterion’s release of The Complete Jean Vigo is cause for deliver these films the way they were meant to be seen.
celebration, as the set has given new life to the films of a man who art has inspired many. As viewers, we will now get a chance to know an appreciate Vigo and his work, more than we ever have before.
Movies that are more than sixty years old rarely look this good. There are some small issues with each film—scratches are prevalent and strobing is apparent—but contrast is stunning and well-defined, and detail is simply amazing. The images have a clarity and sharpness to them I wouldn’t have thought possible for films made in the 1930’s
These LPCM tracks aren’t the best I’ve ever heard, but they capture the movies’ original sound design accurately. Crackles, hisses, and other audio anomalies have been eliminated. While there is much available in terms of dynamic range, these lossless tracks nevertheless deliver these soundtracks the way they were meant to be heard.
English SDH subtitles are included.
We get the following special features:
- Screen Specific Audio commentaries featuring Michael Temple, author of Jean Vigo: Available on each film, these commentaries are very informative and interesting. Temple recounts the filmmaking processes, reputation and lasting cinematic importance.
- Score for À propos de Nice by Marc Perrone, from 2001
- Alternate edits from À propos de Nice: featuring footage cut by Vigo (21:31 in 1080i)
- Episode of the French television series Cinéastes de notre temps about Vigo, from 1964 (1:38:16 in 1080i)
- A 1968 Conversation about L’Atalante (18:17 in 1080i): Not just any chat, it features Francois Truffaut and Eric Rohmer.
- Animated tribute to Vigo by filmmaker Michel Gondry (:45 in 1080p)
- Les voyages de L’Atalante (40:03 in 1080i): film restorer and historian Bernard Eisenschitz’s 2001 documentary tracking the history of the film.
- 2001 Video Interview with Director Otar losseliani (19:57 in 1080i): The director discusses the influence Jean Vigo had on his own work.
- Booklet: Along with numerous photos, the booklet contains essays by critics Michael Almereyda, Robert Polito, B. Kite, and Luc Sante.
