1905: A Light unto My Pathé

La vie et la passion de Jésus Christ (1905)
aka The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ
Directed by Ferdinand Zecca and Lucien Nongeut
44 min.; France; Black and White (tinted); Silent

Ferdinand Zecca began production of this beautiful looking religious feature for Pathé in 1902; it was completed three years later by Lucien Nonguet. In the interim Pathé developed a stencil-based tinting process so this must be the first film that features Jesus & Co. in color. The picture looks astoundingly good for a film from 1905; it might just be the best looking film I’ve seen so far in this project. Stylistically, Zecca and Nonguet are in Melies mode - static camera angle, action stays in the frame as if we're watching a stage performance, camera tricks abound (baby Jesus appears out of thin air, for instance). However, a couple of stiff pans, a medium close-up, and some outdoor scenes surprise us, and stand proof that the language of cinema was indeed expanding in 1905.

The visual elegance of the feature coaxes our attention to the storytelling, but unfortunately that's where the movie has its problems. The film is constructed of over 30 discrete scenes that are unconnected directly to what comes before or follows after. There is no editing in or between these tableaux; they merely run their course and end. What's most frustrating is that Zecca and Nonguet provide nothing in the way of explanation - no narration or dialogue intertitles. They're content to just show us each tableau and then move on. If one knows the stories associated with each tableau then the film makes sense; if not then some scenes are as bewildering as the most inscrutable work of the avant-garde. The latter possibility never seems to have occurred to Zecca and Nongeut. Like Edwin S. Porter on 1903's Uncle Tom's Cabin, they assume that their audience knows what's going on. Perhaps a live narrator provided explanation when the film was screened back in the day, but without such narration now Passion is in danger of being nothing more than a collection of irresistible images that, however instrinsically majestic, lack the ability to draw us into a deeper connection.

Variety complained that the crucifixion scene in The Life and Passion of Jesus Christ was depicted with "revolting cruelty," but let's put that review in perspective by comparing similar reactions to Mel Gibson's more recent splatter-filled The Passion of the Christ (2004). Nevertheless, the film was reportedly very popular and Pathé must have been delighted. 1905 was the year that the French firm made their climb to master the international cinema market. The company, started in 1896 by Charles Pathé and his brothers, bought the Lumiere patents and produced a best-selling studio camera. Then they signed a distribution deal with Georges Melies. Eventually, the Lumieres and Melies were out of the film production game. Pathé meanwhile constructed a new studio complex at Vincennes, opened offices in France, Belgium, England, Italy, Spain, Russia, Japan and the United States, and purchased hundreds of exhibition theaters. Pathé also wanted to expand cinema audiences beyond the working class, so they constructed luxury cinemas, made movies (such as the popular Max Linder series) set among the middle class, and produced films such as Passion to make cinema appear respectable.

Pathé's vertical integration scheme worked: the company dominated international cinema markets between 1905 and the advent of World War I. They drew more people than ever into their theaters to view movies made in their studios with their cameras and distributed by their companies. Their only French rival was the smaller but no-less ambitious Gaumont. It's not surprising then that Gaumont produced the similarly popular La Vie du Christ (The Birth, Life and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ, 1906) the following year. The French film industry held sway over world cinema for a time after 1905, and films like Passion helped them do it.

This essay written by Thom Ryan
© 2006 Thom Ryan Some rights reserved

Comments

[Squish]

I've been watching "Edison: Invention of the Movies" which includes 'Uncle Tom's Cabin', and I found the intertitles a lot better in that than other more frustrating and boring stuff I'd seen, though it was confusing nonetheless. The earlier you go in the silent era, the less effective the use of intertitles become in explaining the action. Worse yet, sometimes they explain the action itself, then go through the motions like "The Doctor finds the note", and then you see a guy sneak in skulk around and gee! finds a note! There is nothing worse than watching a silent film where two people talk to one another simply for the sake of filling time.

[Thom]

I'm with you, literal titles can be as frustrating as the most ambiguous ones. I haven't reached a film in the project with dialogue interitles (I think I'm very close now) so I can't comment on that yet. But, it's surprising to me that so few of the very early filmmakers grasped the idea that in the silent format just a little bit of explanation can go a long way to creating a more satisfying viewing experience.

[Thom]

You know what the most disturbing thing in this film turned out to be? That ubiquitous Pathé rooster (not very well) hidden in every scene. You can see it clearly in the second photo above. Talk about branding. I spent about two weeks after seeing this asking my more devout friends what a rooster had to do with Jesus. :-)

[jmac]

T, this is fascinating, and I agree that the film stills are so gorgeous! Jesus is totally eye candy. :) Where did you find this film?

This is a great blog!

[Thom]

J - thanks for the kind words. You just made my day. I found this film on a two-fer DVD (with From the Manger to the Cross) at Netflix.

There is something so attractive looking about the Pathé stencil tinting process, isn't there? Yet it has this otherworldly look to it too. I wonder if there is a plug-in to recreate this look in the digital realm?

[jmac]

I cannot believe this film is on Netflix. My faith is renewed . . . :)

Would After Effects do this type of stencil tinting?

[Thom]

After Effects...hmm, I think you're right. I remember painting some simple industrial animations in that program that were kind of tinted-looking. OK J, I challenge encourage you to take a stab at getting this tinted look into your next experimental film (if anyone can do it you can, and I want first peek at it too). In return I'll only say nice things about your work forevermore...deal? Whatsay?

[jmac]

I'm not ready for After Effects!!! But I just painted some film and scanned that into Final Cut Pro, and it looks sooo cool! I'll keep you posted on that.

And what about your work in video? Maybe it's time that you learn After Effects? :) Then you can tell me how to tint the film!

[Thom]

Touché :) How can I see the painted film you're working on, J? That's waaay cooler than AE. Is any of it posted on your blog? I'm going over there now to look for it.

[Thom]

I just picked up a book about that aforementioned sneaky Pathé rooster: The Red Rooster Scare: Making Cinema American, 1900-1910 by Richard Abel. I'm going to get to the bottom of this mystery. . .

[jmac]

Hi again, I'm just beginning to edit the hand painted footage in FCP. I will do a post with stills as soon as I make some progress on this new piece. You should still try AE!

[Thom]

Wonderful news J! I'll have my eyes set to stunned I'm sure :) I don't own AE, but if I remember correctly there is a tint effect in the prog. You just select and apply it. Looking forward to your stills.

[Thom]

I just ran across a bit more info about this film and my speculation that a narrator might have been present at screenings. On January 4, 1909 the New York Times ran a story about the "moving picture Passion play" that included the following info:

"At the side of the stage stood a deep-voiced man who quoted passages of the Gospel in illustration of the pictures..." the story also reveals that the narrator also explained some of the more obscure parts of the picture.

Ah, another cinema mystery solved.