Sweet Dreams

The last time I saw Cocteau's "The Blood of a Poet" was during my Freshman year in college. That was a long time ago. I rediscovered it this week as a result of another movie (it often happens that way). I had been putting off watching "Les Enfants Terribles" because doing so signaled the near completion of my recent crash course on Jean-Pierre Melville. Right now, while pondering the best movies of 2008, nothing comes close to the pleasure and excitement afforded by "Le Samourai" and "Army of Shadows" and "Bob le Flambeur", all of which I saw for the first time this past year. And all of which I am already to see again. "Enfants" was a surprise to me, too, but in a different sort of way. Luckily the DVD extras, courtesy of Criterion, addressed what surprised and challenged me the most: the true authorship, or auteurship I suppose I should say. Melville or Cocteau? Kind of a lovely mishmash of both I think...a young Melville making a movie of the older (and more famous) Cocteau's popular book, with the author himself very much present on the set. In this, only his second film, Melville had not yet developed the unique stylistic signature that identifies his later work but there are certainly hints of it throughout. It's blunt and not very tasteful. There's a ragged and unrehearsed energy to it, propelled by a lot of Bach, which balances the extremes of Cocteau's fantasia. The whole thing rolls out like a feverish dream. It's a startling, engrossing little movie with some bizarre casting choices that only enhance its hypnotic weirdness. The title characters, a nasty and vaguely incestuous teenage brother and sister, are played by Nicole Stephane and Edouard Dermithe. The fact that they were both in their mid 20s when they made the film --and certainly look it -- is challenging at first. He looks especially silly in his schoolboy shorts and cape. But early on, you sort of conveniently forget the age issue and focus instead on Stephane's mesmerizing performance as a butch little man eater. Dermithe is a terrible actor and wasn't Melville's choice, but he's certainly a looker (apparently one of Cocteau's, ahem, protegees) and by the time brother and sis hop in the tub together, it makes perfect sense.

I followed "Enfants" a few nights later with "Poet" At only 50-odd minutes, Cocteau's loopy 1930 meditation on art and dreams, life and death, love and longing, is every bit as engrossing and entertaining as it was almost 80 years ago when he and Bunuel were happily provoking audiences and challenging the very definition of cinema. I had forgotten just about all of this movie, including a snowball fight among school boys which would show up again in "Enfants," and it was a treat to see it again, as if for the first time. Also enjoyable is Edgardo Cozarinsky's documentary on Cocteau, which is included on the Criterion disc. It explains a lot. Next up, what else? Orpheus. Stay tuned.