The Trial of Joan of Arc

This is a very brief review of Carl Theodor Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc" and Robert Bresson's "The Trial of Joan of Arc".

Some thoughts...

1. What's immediately apparent when comparing these two films, is how focused Dreyer is on showing the opposing forces present at Joan's trial. Who was the chief architect of her martyrdom? The English invaders who imprisoned her? The French clergy who tried and condemned her? God? The girl herself? The people who identified with her and gave her martyrdom political purpose?

2. Dreyer always keeps Joan isolated within the frame, plumbing a solitary soul's duress under persecution. Elsewhere he deftly shows the transformation of the witnessing masses from a crazy mob into a responsible voice of moral protest.

3. Maria Falconetti, who plays Joan in Dreyer's film, is given some of the most celebrated close ups in cinema history. What became of her? One legend claims that she so identified with her one major film role that she ended up in an insane asylum, convinced she was Joan.

4. Unlike Dreyer's film, Bresson's is filled with non professional actors. His is a dry, almost distant film.

5. Whilst Dreyer's film oozes grand emotions, Bresson's is modern, minimalist and existentially blunt.

6. Bresson avoids the circus and stresses Joan's solitude. His Joan is defiant in court, but privately she is at a loss, constantly praying for answers.

7. Dreyer's Joan (a kind of instinctual folk hero) acts according to her feelings, while Bresson's acts according to her conscience, which fluctuate as she broods.

8. Bresson's Joan is actually reluctant to embrace martyrdom. She's in over her head, unsure, confused.

9. In Dreyer's film, the audience becomes both Joan and the masses supporting her. In Bresson's, however, the audience is positioned as an outsider. We're the prison guards, the jailers, the priests, always "seperated" from Joan (by holes, by walls, by bars). The poor girl's kept at a distance.

10. Bresson's film is filled with visual echoes. Joan's hands, chained across a bible, resemble a pair of wings. At her execution, her hands, now tied behind her back, reappear in closeup. When doves appear, shot from below, we are reminded of Joan's "winged" hands to haunting effect. The point: an image of confinement has become one of ultimate liberation.

11. Bresson's film begins with two sounds: the ringing of church bells, followed by a drum roll. It ends only with a drum roll. Joan silences the Church that has put her to death.

12. Bresson has criticised Dreyer's film on numerous occasions, stating that he found the acting "grotesque". He's right. Joan was a hardened warrior who fought with men. Why then does Dreyer portray her in such a melodramatic fashion? On the flip side, Dreyer's images do tap into something almost primal.

13. Bresson's film abounds with delicious ambiguities. Was Joan really receiving messages from God? Is she deluded? Was she a crazy freedom fighter or holy saint? Was she simply a 15th century terrorist, opposing the English occupying army and the tents of the Catholic Church?

8.9/10 - "The Trial of Joan of Arc"

8/10 - "The Passion of Joan of Arc"

Both masterpieces, though I personally prefer Bresson's austere approach. Worth one viewing.

Bresson's film is quite extraordinary. An entirely static camera, a repertoire of what seems like only a handful of angles, and no music save the unnerving thumping of medieval drums at the beginning and end, all add up to a form restrained to the point of stasis. The movement of the film comes entirely from the words and from the faces. And from the rigorous choice of those few camera angles. It is a moot point as to whether or not it is relevant that the script is composed almost entirely of transcripts from the actual trial. However, the viewer armed with this knowledge must surely be privy to an extraordinary sense of time-travel - a restrained, respectful and highly spiritual journey back into the "dark ages". There is necessarily an inescapable sense of people hundreds of years dead speaking through the mouths of the (non-professional) actors, whose limited but affecting range fits perfectly with the curious juxtaposition of past and present, of cinema and grace.

As has been pointed out many times before, one of the primary differences between Bresson's film and Dreyer's La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc is in their formal delineation between good and evil; where Dreyer uses light and shadow to point up the difference, in the Bresson film the contrast is more subtle, resting, it would seem, mainly on the fact that the Bishop Cauchon is shut exclusively head on, whilst Jeanne commands a variety of oblique camera angles. But the subtlety of the camera also brings out a fantastic sense of time, space, and place. The numerous close-ups of period shoes are all we need to have the era set firmly in our minds; the medium-shots - and complete absence of anything like a long shot - simultaneously reinforce the claustrophobia of Jeanne's predicament, and focus our attention on her, and that which falls under her gaze. The one notable exception to this is the short series of shots while she burns on the pyre, of the white doves fluttering above the canvas awning, suitable parallels with the absent characters of the Saints Catharine and Margaret, whose presence is felt and whose names recur throughout the trial. A simple film, formally, perhaps, but only in the sense that everything is pared down to a minimum, and the choices are only made with the greatest of care and most rigorous of logic. The words and the faces do not need embellishment. They need attention and simplicity, in the same way that the words uttered by the real Joan of Arc are simple and unadorned. A masterful marriage of form and content.

I saw this film along with numerous other Bresson films being shown at the National Gallery of Art in DC. In this film the English characters speak English and the French characters speak French. I knew little about Joan of Arc and was expecting it not to be one of my favorites. I was blown away by the way it brought Joan and her tragic experiences to life. It and Diary of a Country Priest were my favorites. I had the advantage to talk to a gentleman who teaches a course on Great Trials of the World who gave me background including how well this uneducated girl was able to handle the questions at the trial, how Bresson was faithful to George Bernard Shaw's play based on transcripts from the trial, etc. The emotional power of Joan of Arc's trial in this film is truly amazing. It should be available on Netflix for all to see.

The Trial of Joan of Arc (1962) chronicles the last days of the fifteenth-century French patriot, from her interrogation by members of the Parisian clergy to her execution by burning at the stake. In the entire film there are only three locations: the courthouse, the jail and the place of Joan's execution. The words of Joan and her prosecutors, lifted almost exclusively from transcripts of the trial, take centre stage.

The clergymen probe relentlessly into Joan's religious beliefs. Twisting her words at every turn, they insinuate that she is a pagan and a heretic. Joan, parrying each thrust of their argument, appeals to a higher religious authority to prove her innocence. The clergymen, however, are mere stooges of the British, and resolve to brand her a heretic. Facing death, Joan initially recants her heresy, but then reaffirms it, thus sealing her fate. Her meagre possessions are placed at the foot of the stake, echoing the way in which her testimonies have been used against her. A clergyman holds aloft a crucifix for her but this image of Christianity is lost in the smoke from her burning pyre.

The Trial of Joan of Arc features an impressive cast of non-professional actors. Florence Delay is superb in the role of Joan, radiating defiance behind her impassive countenance. A few of the performances elsewhere are a bit wooden, but the grave manner of Bishop Cauchon and the benign gaze of the sole sympathetic priest testify to the overall strength of the casting.

Running to little more than an hour in length, The Trial of Joan of Arc might seem on paper to be an insubstantial work. Yet this is an extraordinarily intense film, thick with powerful dialogue and requiring the full concentration of the viewer. For someone not fluent in French, it is a challenge to read the subtitles and follow the images on screen, but, whether you are French-speaking or not, I highly recommend this powerful piece of cinema.

This is the one Bresson allegedly made in response to Dreyer, though not sure if that was the real impetus or something said along the way to mark intentions. I can see how the project would appeal greatly to him; like his three previous ones, it's about an idealistic youth faced with a world that stifles the spirit. He must have felt it so apt that he could use actual transcripts of the trial kept by the notaries at Rouen.

He films the trial as a process of facts, no flourish allowed anywhere, sparse and all the other things you'll read in comments, and all this as asceticism that purifies the eye, or so it goes. Dreyer's Joan was assailed by passions so overwhelming they escaped the body to rend the cinematic air. Huge contrast with Bresson's who is stoic and dispassionate, the air is static, everything is kept in body.

One specific impetus behind the project I believe may hav been how to have the portrait of this woman, induce as much deliberate poverty of expression, and still give us a soul? He does it I think. He gives us a Joan who is indomitable, but also afraid, proud without losing her sweetness, glimmers of unsure innocence through the armor of god. He's gifted with a woman as marvelous as Dreyer had.

It was an ongoing project for Bresson that stretched back several films, he surpasses them here in complete austerity. He was probably a happy camper looking back.

But more than any individual film, it's his philosophy of purity that I feel is worth examining, and I'm in the middle of a few posts where I grapple with it. He was writing along the way a book that delineates this philosophy. It was seeing quotes from this book for years that prompted me to follow up on the films, it was something I've always had in the back of my mind tied to personal observations about emptiness and purity.

I won't have conclusions before Balthazar, which is next in line, and probably the one after, but there is something to say here.

We say that Bresson is pure, but if you look up close, there's a method. It's one of timing and blocking exact pieces, this extends from the camera to the actors, who become pieces to be moved. What he's doing is that he's taking the language of film and breaking it down to the most basic grammar. I see this as both an intellectually barren project to pick, why all your work will just be simplifying, and it sets you down a slippery slope where the only thing purer is is simple.

Bresson makes a lot out of the importance of stillness, but at the center I perceive another notion; he writes that he wants nothing false, nothing that the eye doesn't see. It's a grammarian's insistence on what is true, or seems so at this point, a dogmatist's claim on reality. How about all that we don't see but can feel move through us? He deliberately mutes this in the actors.

And in the film we have what? A young girl who is full of inner things she feels, god or madness it's the same courage for her, faced with a cadre of clerics who set out to disprove it all as impure, the devil's work. What's happening during the trial is that these dogmatists are trying to corner Joan into saying that she saw what the eye doesn't see, the abstract in the world of senses, which is what Bresson is working against.

(From a Christian view, it would be heretic to say that the divine was bound thus and so, and you were privy of that form)

Were the saints clothed? Did St. Catherine have her hair down?

Grammarians of spirituality.

Now the task is open. More interesting than the actual films for me is this battle in Bresson, between the grammarian of spirituality with his fixed notions on the divine and Joan who wants to preserve the truth of what she felt. Is the world full of presence? Balthazar is up next.