• Cyrano de Bergerac (1925 silent film)

12/29/20 (Tues), Tokyo

Silent film helmed by Italian director Augusto Genina. The filming was finished in 1922, but it reportedly took another three years to color it using the innovative but labor-intensive Pathé Stencil Color process. A big plus was the star, Pierre Magnier, who was the understudy in the original production back in 1897. After seeing Cyrano, My Love and Mifune Toshiro’s samurai adaptation in recent weeks, Cyrano was on my mind, so this was perfect timing. It was presented by a benshi narrator, Sawato Midori, who improvised dialogue and other developments throughout, and musicalized by a lovely four-piece orchestra (piano, cello, flute, percussion).

Cyrano is an interesting choice for the silent treatment given its talkative title character and gorgeous verse. The entire central conflict revolves around a young handsome soldier’s inability to express himself to a beautiful woman, prompting Cyrano to step in and speak in his place. I was interested to see how that would be handled. The answer is: not very well. The adaptation was fairly close to the original, but that required long dialogue cards (in both English and Spanish, either in sequence or on the same card) that halted the action, greatly blunting the impact. The film needed a drastic rethinking for this genre. I wondered if they couldn’t subtitle the film somehow instead, but maybe it’s not worth the trouble.

The acting was mostly typical silent-era overacting. Linda Moglia as Roxanne was a virtual parody of an overwrought silent film star, but nearly all were guilty of the same. The big exception was Magnier, who, having played the role many times on stage, was a natural with both the bluster and the pathos required. The show needs a strong title character, and it had one, which was an immense help.

The director did a good job opening up the story, partly offsetting his dreadful work with the actors. The crowd scenes were exceptionally well handled, especially the exciting battle scenes with those huge casts. The ending was also superb. I’m not sure it was a good idea to stick so faithfully to the stage book given the need for all the dialogue cards, but at least it was done stylishly. They spared no expense on the lavish sets and costumes. It was a visual treat.

The unexpected coloring was extremely effective. The colors were limited and muted but looked great in this context. (The film has obviously been meticulously cleaned up.) The coloring process is described as something akin to silk screen and must have been too laborious to take root in the industry, but we’re fortunate to have it in a large-scale costume drama like this.

The orchestra was terrific, the highlight being the flute solo that accompanied a similar solo on screen on the battlefield. This is an unusual group that plays specifically for silent films, with the music largely composed by the conductor/leader, Yuasa Joichi. Good work.

This Cyrano has its charms and is worth watching, but a wordless Cyrano is like a silent musical. An interesting experiment that ultimately falls flat.