Jean Cocteau was a true Renaissance man. He was a painter, a poet, a playwright, a novelist, a producer, a stage and screen director, in other words, an all-encompassing artist, and his entire world seems to have revolved around art in all of its varied components and configurations. Though he made only a few films during his lifetime, Orpheus, his modernized take on the myth of “Orpheus and Eurydice,” is among his most surreal and hypnotic. It’s a poetic attempt to capture death’s netherworld in terms understandable to the living, and it’s surely a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic experience. Haunting, gorgeously conceived and mounted, Orpheus is the very definition of a true art film.
Orpheus (Blu-ray)
Directed by Jean Cocteau
Studio: Criterion
Year: 1950
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1 1080p AVC codec
Running Time: 95 minutes
Rating: NR
Audio: PCM 1.0 French
Subtitles: English
Region: A
MSRP: $ 39.95
Release Date: August 30, 2011
Review Date: September 2, 2011
The Film
4.5/5
When Death’s messenger the Princess (Maria Casarès) comes to claim the life of rising, popular young poet Cégeste (Edouard Dermithe), she also sees and falls in love with established poet master Orpheus (Jean Marais), and she lets him accompany them to the netherworld (called “The Zone”) in the hopes he’ll be so transfixed by what he sees that he’ll no longer wish to inhabit the real world. She thinks better of her decision, however, and sends him back accompanied by her assistant Heurtebise (Francois Périer) who then falls in love with Orpheus’ wife Eurydice (Marie Déa). Stunned by jealousy and urged by Heurtebise, the Princess takes the life of Eurydice, and Orpheus follows them to the netherworld in order to get his wife back. But the judges there aren’t happy with the bad, impulsive decisions the Princess and Heurtebise have been making and decide that the two unfairly claimed humans can return to the real world but with certain strings attached, strings that will make the two of them living together even more difficult than their relationship was before.
As with Beauty and the Beast, Cocteau has used many cinematic tricks to heighten the surrealism of the tale, and though they’re simple tricks like reverse motion, rear screen projection, and slow motion, they’re spectacularly effective in creating the other-worldly atmosphere and unsettling magic which surround the story. It’s mesmerizing to watch everything unfold so effortlessly knowing how painstaking it must have been to conceive and film all of these in-camera effects. With mirrors providing the central motif of transporting between worlds (after the initial limousine ride through a negatively-printed countryside), Cocteau really outdoes himself with glass and water images, and these shots are still just astounding more than sixty years after their creation. As usual, the film is rich in themes: the romantic fascination with death as an experience which can freeze beauty and perfection and hold it forever, the artist’s eternal pursuit of truth through creativity of expression, the fickle whims of popular acclaim. And as Cocteau expresses himself in the film’s prologue, the film is open to interpretation; he’d never be one to tell moviegoers what to think or feel with one of his works.
Jean Marais etches another powerful portrait of an artist in turmoil, desperately trying to make sense of the nonsensical. Maria Casarès’ steely, cold Princess still sends shivers up one’s spine with her hard, defiant demeanor, and Francois Périer is her spiritual opposite, a gentle, understanding soul still retaining the spirit of love within and not hardened to all human thoughts and emotions. Marie Déa’s whiny Eurydice is something of a pill, and one isn’t sure this was Cocteau’s intent for her, but today she seems unduly clingy and helpless despite Orpheus’ sometimes cavalier treatment of her. Edouard Dermithe, Cocteau’s latest protégé at the time, has some strikingly effective emotional moments at the beginning but later segues into the Princess’ lapdog and loses completely that intensity that earlier made him such a standout.
Video Quality
5/5
The film is offered in its original 1.33:1 theatrical aspect ratio and is presented in 1080p using the AVC codec. There aren’t many black and white films of this period which look so marvelous in high definition as this one with a mesmerizing grayscale that offers deep blacks and crisp, mouth-watering whites. Contrast has been dialed in perfectly, and sharpness is really wonderful. Despite lots of opportunities for compression artifacts, there are none to be seen. Truly, this is a reference black and white transfer that is hypnotic in its majesty. The white subtitles are completely legible. The film has been divided into 17 chapters.
Audio Quality
3.5/5
The PCM 1.0 (1.1 Mbps) audio track does have a smattering of low level hiss which can only be heard near the end of the film. Otherwise, audio artifacts like hum, crackle, and flutter have been expertly dealt with and are no problem at all. Dialogue is nicely recorded, but George Auric’s music, abetted with some jazz riffs at appropriate times, can sometimes be a tad distorted during the louder moments in the upper registers of the music.
Special Features
5/5
The audio commentary is provided by French film scholar James Williams who offers a lean, interesting commentary delving into Cocteau’s biographical ties to the film, the techniques he used to get effects, and explaining how the film differs from Cocteau’s 1925 stage version of the story. Later on, comments become sparser and less interesting with too much description of what we’re seeing and not enough background about the production personnel.
“Jean Cocteau: Autobiography of an Unknown” is a 1984 documentary about the filmmaker’s interesting life delving into his ups and downs in the critical and popular world and featuring a raft of famous people in whose orbit he existed for many decades. It’s in 1080i and runs for 66 ¾ minutes.
“In Search of Jazz” is a 1956 TV interview with Cocteau in which he discusses his love of jazz and its use in his film. This runs 17 ½ minutes and is in 1080i.
“Jean Cocteau and His Tricks” is a 2008 interview with filmmaker Claude Pinoteau who discusses the film tricks used to give the film is everlasting ethereal quality. This runs 13 ½ minutes in 1080i.
“40 Minutes with Jean Cocteau” is actually 40 ½ minutes with the celebrated artist showing clips from his films and discussions with him about his career. It’s a 1957 TV interview presented in 1080i.
La villa Santo-Sospir is a 1951 16mm Kodachrome film shot by Cocteau in which he takes us on a tour of the villa in Southern France where he spent many years of his life drawing and painting on the doors and walls. Of course, the film takes a surreal turn ¾ of the way through as he plays some reverse motion tricks with various objects. This runs 36 ½ minutes.
There is a stills gallery featuring forty-seven images (some featured in the enclosed booklet) shot by Roger Corbeau.
The theatrical trailer runs for 3 ½ minutes and is in 1080p.
There is 1 ¾ minutes of newsreel footage of the ruins at Saint-Cyr, location for the film’s very striking depiction of “The Zone.” It’s in 1080p.
The enclosed 30-page booklet contains cast and crew lists, wonderful still portraits and shots from the movie, author Mark Polizzotti’s analysis of the film, Cocteau’s own notes on the movie, and James Williams’ essay on the short La villa Santo-Sospir which appears elsewhere on the disc.
The Criterion Blu-rays include a maneuvering tool called “Timeline” which can be pulled up from the menu or by pushing the red button on the remote. It shows you your progress on the disc, the title of the chapter you’re now in, and index markers for the commentary that goes along with the film, all of which can be switched on the fly. Additionally, two other buttons on the remote can place or remove bookmarks if you decide to stop viewing before reaching the end of the film or want to mark specific places for later reference.
In Conclusion
4.5/5 (not an average)
A film classic that defines the true nature of artistic endeavor in every frame, Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus is a don’t-miss viewing experience for those who love something truly avant garde. The superb selection of bonus features only heightens an already top notch package. Highest recommendation!
Matt Hough
Charlotte, NC
