brogmiller

This is the third film adaptation of Alphonse Daudet's immensely popular picaresque novel 'Adventures of Tartarin of Tarascon'. The first was conceived by pioneer Georges Mélies in 1908 and the third in 1962 by actor Francis Blanche who directed himself in the role and thereafter wisely decided to stick to acting.

This second version has been adapted by Marcel Pagnol and stars the prodigiously talented Raimu as the fictional lion tamer of Provencal but cannot begin to compare with their classic collaborations from the same decade whilst accomplished director Raymond Bernard would not seem the ideal choice for this material.

Tartarin is a loveable clown whose dreams of adventure resemble those of Don Quixote but whose physique and love of creature comforts makes him more akin to Sancho Panza. As one would expect Raimu personifies the character whilst his superb comic timing reminds one that he had honed his craft in the vaudevilles of Paris.

Although not without its moments it remains alas in the 'not quite' category and as such is in very good company!

Once again Ingmar Bergman brings his keen intellect and unflinching gaze to bear on human nature. It has conveniently been placed by film historians as the final part of a trilogy but for this viewer at any rate it is more of a companion piece to his next film 'Persona' with again two women representing the intellectual and the carnal, the soul and the flesh. The appearance of child actor Jorgen Lindstrom in both films provides a link. Unusually for this director neither film has a leading male protagonist, the only males in 'The Silence' represented by the wordless Neanderthal of Birger Malmsten and the kindly waiter of Haken Jahnberg whose language is indecipherable whilst in 'Persona' there is a fleeting glimpse of Bergman regular Gunner Bjornstrand.

Considered pretty hot stuff for its time, its censorship issues and explicit eroticism had people flocking in droves to see it whilst some Bergman devotees wished he had never made it.

The film is 'transitional' in Bergman's output for in keeping with the title he and his superlative lighting cameraman Sven Nykvist have made this an eminently visual experience. Bergman has taken to a different level his fascination with the ever-changing landscape of the human face.

Both this and the succeeding film typify Bergman's extraordinary simpatico with actresses and here Ingrid Thulin and Gunnel Lindblom are utterly riveting in challenging roles.

Of course Bergman will always have his detractors but for those among us who do not think the sole purpose of cinema is to provide mindless distraction, his use of the medium of film for purely personal expression is unmatched by any other director.

In his prologue to 'Don Quixote', one of the greatest works of the human mind, Miguel de Cervantes y Saavedra wrote: 'You may suppose it engendered in some dismal prison'. He was indeed imprisoned on several occasions due to financial mismanagement whilst his fame brought him neither wealth nor comfort and he was buried simply and without fanfare.

His masterpiece has inspired an opera, a symphonic tone poem and been filmed on numerous occasions from 1902 onwards.

One of the most polished is that of G. W. Pabst featuring the mighty Russian bass Fédor Chaliapin although the film lacks warmth. The version, for this viewer at any rate, that reigns supreme is this one directed by Grigori Kozintsev, beautifully shot in the Crimea with magnificently true performances by Nikolai Cherkasov and Yuri Tolubeev as the Knight of Rueful Countenance and Sancho Panza.

Kozintsev's visual sense is stunning and by concentrating on the major episodes has successfully condensed 74 chapters into 110 minutes whilst capturing Cervantes' pathos, humour and humanity.

He would go on to direct exceptional adaptations of 'Hamlet' and 'King Lear', the former made in 1964 to mark the 500th anniversary of Shakespeare's birth. It is uncanny that Shakespeare and Cervantes both died on 23rd April 1616.

There are currently only five reviews of this piece which is lamentable, even more so as IMDb members seem more interested in the quasi-musical directed by Arthur Hiller, the aborted production of Terry Gilliam and Orson Welles' film that never was. Beyond belief.