Case Study: George Méliès
Méliès is undoubtedly the first artist to work in the medium of film. His contribution to the cinema has often been underestimated, but the so-called ‘father of cinema’ D.W.Griffiths famously said ‘I owe him everything.’ In 1896 Georges Méliès a theatrical producer, actor, magician and caricaturist saw a Lumière screening and was so impressed that he tried to buy a camera from the brothers. Perhaps recognising a potential competitor the Lumière brothers refused and Méliès was forced to buy a British projector and design his very own camera. At first Méliès explored the simple documentary recording possibilities of the camera by roaming the streets of Paris photographing people, soldiers, trains, horses, cars, anything that moved. On projecting one sequence later in his house he was amazed to see a bus suddenly transformed into a hearse, an accident caused by the film jamming in his camera. As a magician, he immediately saw the possibilities for trick photography and he embarked on a making a series of highly theatrical, spectacular and carefully planned films. From the earliest of these, such as ‘Le Manoir du Diable’ (‘The Devil’s Manor’ 1896) Méliès was the writer, director, designer, producer and (in this film, the principal actor) responsible for every part of the exquisitely arranged fantasy.
By 1900 he had made over 200 ‘magical, mystical and trick films’ each a minute or two long. With (exported English) titles such as ‘Cleopatra's Tomb’ (1899) ‘The Hypnotist at Work’ (1897) ‘The Vanishing Lady’ (1896) and ‘The Laboratory of Mephistopheles’ (1897) these films showed people disappearing in puffs of smoke, flying through the air, cut in half, or turned into animals and demons. His 185th film ‘Le Diable au Convent’ (The Devil in a Convent 1899) has a typically complex narrative, certainly by comparison to anything being filmed elsewhere in that year. The film begins with the Devil, followed by an imp, jumping from the font of holy water in a convent. This description comes from his company’s “Star” catalogue of 1900:
‘Both are transformed into a priest and choir boy. They then summon the nuns to service and while preaching change themselves back to their natural shapes, frightening the nuns out of their wits. The Devil then transforms the church to resemble Hell and the nuns flee for their lives. Many imps appear and dance wildly round the Devil, but are finally driven off by the ghosts of departed nuns leaving only the Devil. Suddenly an apparition of St. George appears and in a struggle with His Satanic Majesty overcomes him, driving him off to Hell with a cloud-burst of smoke.’ (Méliès 1900)
The coherence of the narrative is even more marked in two other films of that year exhibited in America as ‘The Dreyfus Affair’ and ‘Cinderella’. While the scenes could be bought separately, it was in the interest of the exhibitors to buy each of the scenes which together told, or at least cleverly and sometimes beautifully illustrated, a complete story. As Jacobs (1967) comments:
‘Even better-grade theatres which had stopped showing ‘living pictures’ exhibited Cinderella with pride. American manufacturers hastened to ‘dupe’ the film and sell it as their own. The unusual success of the picture, in fact, not only spurred American movie makers to improve their own product but, at a time when movies needed encouragement, improved their reputation.’
With what Méliès called his ‘artificially arranged scenes’ he showed the possibilities of creative planning, set design and composition of shots, albeit always within a theatrical ‘proscenium arch’ or tableaux shot. The highly imaginative, and technically brilliant ‘A Trip to the Moon’ (1902) would finally establish Méliès as the first dominant creative imagination in motion pictures. By comparison, other filmmakers seemed inept and Méliès was understandably enraged that his films were copied and sold under other director’s names. As he correctly claimed in his 1903 catalogue he had, ‘given new life to the trade at a time when it was dying out’. All the greater therefore, is the shame that Méliès was to die a destitute man some thirty years later, with many of his films melted down by the French government for the war effort and lost for ever.