La Belle Nivernaise (1924)
Directed by Jean Epstein

Film Review

Before being lured away by Alexandre Kamenka's promise of greater artistic freedom at his own film production company Albatros, Jean Epstein concluded his brief stay at Pathé with this charming adaptation of Alphonse Daudet's 1886 novella La Belle Nivernaise.  Whilst the film is easily the most conventional of the four that he made for Pathé - it lacks the experimental ambition of both L'Auberge rouge (1923) and Coeur Fidèle (1923) - Epstein still brings to it his unique aesthetic, combining a lyrical naturalism with some bold impressionistic flourishes that have the effect of humanising his protagonists and drawing us into their inner world.  Not long before this, Pathé had produced a similar barge-centred melodrama L'Hirondelle et la Mésange, directed by André Antoine in 1920.  Concerned that this film was looking too much like a documentary, Pathé pulled the plug on it and it was never distributed.

Whilst it pales in comparison with the director's subsequent masterpieces, over which he had far greater artistic control (La Glace à trois faces, La Chute de la maison Usher), La Belle Nivernaise is still an engaging piece that was ahead of its time, both technically and aesthetically.  It has none of the forced sentimentality that was commonplace in film melodramas of this era and the style of acting appears surprisingly modern, without the excessive gesticulating and face-pulling that we tend to associate with silent cinema.  In many ways, the film is strongly evocative of Jean Vigo's later film L'Atalante (1934), which shares its canal setting and achieves a similar captivating blend of realism and poetry.

With its cast of ordinary working class characters whose personal dramas are played out not on land but on water, La Belle Nivernaise feels like a precursor to the films that Jean Epstein would make in Brittany during the last phase of his career, beginning with Finis terrae (1929).  Like the mercurial ocean in the director's Breton poems, the canal becomes an ever-present protagonist in the film, and the gentle passage of the titular barge down this majestic waterway accords perfectly with Epstein's impressionistic philosophy of cinema as a means of capturing life in motion.

The long tracking shots of the barge gliding slowly down the canal, the surrounding landscape slipping past with an indefinable grace, are imbued with a soothing harmony that reflects the mood of the two young lovers, Victor and Clara, as they embark on their romantic idyll.  Contrast this with the jagged, oppressive brutality that takes over in the latter part of the film, when Victor is separated from his beloved and placed in an institution that looks more like a prison for hardened criminals than a boys' school.  The young man's torment is succinctly expressed when, in a state of delirium, he sees in da Vinci's portrait of Saint Anne the face of his sweetheart - the pain of separation and sense of loss are poignantly evoked in a dazzling superimposition sequence.

In an earlier scene, an attempt by a hideously fashioned bargeman (the most vivid of the dramatis personae) to rape Clara is given a shocking immediacy through Epstein's manic use of large close-ups and rapid editing.  Similarly, the very different characters of the barge owner and his wife are expressively shown to us through close-ups - one is a creature of extraordinary compassion, the other a vile shrew.  La Belle Nivernaise may be a minor work in Epstein's oeuvre, one in which the 26-year-old director is still clearly developing his art whilst honouring his commercial commitments, but it is a film that appeals to both the heart and the eye, transcending the conventional melodrama by connecting with the true essence of human experience.

Film Synopsis

Louveau is the owner of an old barge, La Belle Nivernaise, which ships coal along the Nivernaise canal in central France.  One winter's day, he is in town on business when he comes across a solitary stray boy named Victor.  Louveau's paternal instincts get the better of him and without delay he makes arrangements to adopt the boy.  Returning to his barge, Louveau introduces Victor to his infant daughter Clara, who is delighted to have a playmate, and his surly wife, who is none too pleased with having another mouth to feed.  Ten years later, Victor has grown into a fine young man, a hardworking apprentice to his adopted father, deeply in love with Clara.  By this time Victor has gained a dangerous enemy in Louveau's barge-hand L'Équipage, who has long lusted after his boss's daughter.

Victor's prospects of future happiness are threatened when he discovers the identity of his real father - a wealthy coal merchant named Maugendre.  With Victor and his father away, the lecherous L'Équipage tries to force himself on Clara, but her sweetheart returns just in time to save her honour and prevent the barge from colliding with a lock.  At Maugendre's insistence, Victor has no choice but to leave his adopted family and complete his education in a boys' private school.  Unable to adapt to his new life, Victor falls ill and suffers from hallucinations.  Realising how much a life on the river means to his son, Maugendre relents and buys him his own barge, on which Victor and Clara may continue their life together...