Perhaps the strangest homage to a pop culture protaganist in cinema’s history is this film; a re-imagining of Louis Feuillade’s Judex from 1916 (which will be known as Judex 16 from this point on). Stranger still that Franju didn’t really like Judex that much; citing it as lesser Feuillade, and indeed that he wanted to remake Fantomas instead. And the film (which shall be known as Judex ‘63) is just that; a ‘remake’ of Judex, eliding or breezing through as much of the original story as possible in order to fit into an hour and a half time slot, to the point that a synopsis might be needed *before* watching the movie...though I would fully recommend checking out Feuillade’s original series, too, especially if you’re into the worst pulp of the very best kind.
Judex ‘63, as in Feuillade’s five-plus hour serial from 1916 (which will here on out be called Judex 16), is a caped crusader on a mission of vengeance against a criminal organization, led by a man called Favraux, responsible for his father’s death. He becomes torn in his duty, though, when he falls in love with the daughter of Favraux. That’s the gist of it, and Franju is in many ways “loyal” to the original film’s cliche ridden plot and nonsense characters whose feelings are barely hinted at if not completely elided, and whose motivations are utterly unclear and change on a whim. But Franju’s film (which will be Judex 63)is not a film meant to be seen “literally”, and those who see it (or the original, for that matter) with a literal approach will be disappointed by it. Franju’s film, instead, is almost a divining of Judex and Feuillade; a loving homage to the shadows and fantasies that Feuillade’s films inspires, and for its turn-of-the-century milieu...from iris shots to the wonderfully detailed period costumes.
Even if Franju didn’t love Judex, he obviously loves Feuillade, and he draws out the essence of the sheer bizarreness of his work. Every moment in the film is dealt in a cold, almost sterile hand that had filled even the most banal moments of Franju’s earlier film, Eyes Without a Face, with an aloof strangeness. Though there’s hardly anything banal about this film...the black masks and clothes, sinister traps, bizarre and sudden changes in plots, Judex’s helper dogs, the sudden reappearance of “dead” characters, the amazing coincidences, double and triple crosses, and the incompetence of both the arch villains and genius protaganists are all handled in such a loving and insane fashion. This film has fun with its crazy self. Even though the film moves fast, it feels drowsy and slow. Again, like Eyes Without a Face, Judex moves and feels less like reality than it does a dream, and Maurice Jarre’s score (he had also scored Eyes Without a Face and Heads Against the Wall for Franju); in addition to winning three Oscars for big David Lean epics) certainly helps.
Everything works to the favor of the film’s otherworldly, illogical aura; from the score, to the chilly black and white cinematography, to the way Feuillade sticks primarily to the night, and the day time scenes seem dreary. Its this ghostly strangeness that makes the film so unique, and its what I think I now love about it. Judex ‘63 takes everything that made Judex ‘16 such a strange experience, and made it much more explicit and vibrant. More disturbing and visible than ever is Judex’s questionable nature; few who have seen Judex ‘16 would call Judex much of a hero, and in this film he’s more sinister than ever. He’s a nightmare figure, for sure; a masked avenger, and his goals make less sense than ever. Magician Channing Pollock, who plays the titular character, is wooden and he posesses an almost statuesque persona, making the character of Judex seem even more out of this world than everything else in the strange film, and he possesses a chilly grip on the world around him even when he’s being duped or knocked down by his opponents, or doing something stupid.
By far the most well known scene in the film is the ballroom scene, in which Pollock exercutes a series of magic tricks for the party attendants, all while wearing a startlingly realistic bird’s mask (one of several at the party). For sheer psychic impact alone, this scene (reminiscent of scenes from Max Ernst’s Une Semaine de Bonté) rivals the most haunting moments of Cocteau, and its one of the most breathlessly haunting scenes in all of cinema, as far as I’m concerned. Its almost a surprise that this scene of sheer fantasy has a narrative purpose; to initiate the death of Favraux, and to introduce its demonic protaganist. That this ‘surprise’ is even greater on repeat viewings is evidence of the film’s power. And this magical scene sets up the film’s sense of play, and in its way, the spectre of Georges Melies.
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The film, for all its poetic strangeness and beauty, is charming and playful to the extent that its actually very fun to watch when you’re onto its particular wavelength. Numerous in-jokes evoking both Fantomas and Alice in Wonderland (thanks in large part to the manchild detective Concantin) emerge, without ever resorting to knowing high camp, like Tim Burton or Christopher Nolan in their Batman films. Without ever breaking the film’s eerie atmosphere, Cocantin and the little boy who joins up with him are genuinely, wryly amusing figures; reminiscent of the way the actual serials of Feuillade saw fit to break the violent scenarios with vaudeville-like comedy. After all, who can forget Mazamette from Les Vampires? In other words, don’t take it seriously. A lot of people who see the film make the mistake of ‘tuning out’ once the ‘weird bird people scene’ is over, and even I did on my first viewing. And it is a mistake. Seen for what it is, Judex (63) is, on the whole, probably more satisfying than Feuillade’s original work. It is a work of movie poetry; a study of genre and genre archetypes that is never studious.
89 / 100
Masters of Cinema is responsible for releasing this on DVD in the UK, and sports a fine anamorphic transfer of the film in its original aspect ratio. The disc is a double disc set, and the other disc contains a crisp but non-anamorphic transfer (MoC couldn’t license a better master) of Nuits rouges, a second Franju film inspired by Feuillade. The set contains a fine booklet, with an interesting and poetic piece by the director, as well as interviews with him, a very nice but short essay by Jacques Rivette, assorted praise for the film, and a piece by Tom Milne on the second film. The discs themselves have video interviews with Jacques Champreux, who is not only Feuillade’s grandson, but adapted Feuillade’s Judex serial to a scenario and dialogue in feature length form, and in Nuits rouges he plays the villain. An amazing purchase.
Louis Feuillade’s Judex is currently available in the USA from Flicker Alley, in a two DVD set. A new restoration of the film is in the works by Gaumont in France.
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