Henri Langlois: Phantom of the Cinema (2004)
Henri Langlois: Phantom of the Cinema (FR) Directed by Jacques Richard
Following a 1970 documentary entitled Henri Langlois, this French production’s title refers to a man who was not an actor, director, or producer, but whom nevertheless looms as one of the most influential figures in cinema history. Born in 1914, Langlois was a theater owner, a film studies professor, a preservationist, archivist, and museum curator who, for forty years, did his level best to save films from disappearing, educate anyone who was interested in the history of film, screen the best in world cinema to theater audiences, and provide a designed space for the public to experience the many film treasures he acquired throughout his lifetime. He was far ahead of his time when it came to rescuing nitrate celluloid and in collecting not just books and the physical films themselves, but telegrams, costumes, scripts, production drawings, photos, and the like. Starting in 1934, Langlois went about securing and then exhibiting his curated films, screening them wherever and whenever he could throughout the war. He engaged in a kind of battle of wills with the Nazis, protecting American and Russian films they wished to destroy and eventually recovering thousands of seized films, managing to save Blue Angel by trading the German occupiers a meaningless documentary. Langlois opened his museum and began showing films daily in 1948, and The Cinematheque became a home away from home for most of the new wave directors, including Chabrol, Rivette, Godard, and Truffuat, most of whom (along with filmmakers like Rohmer, Berri, Pialat, Garrel, and a host of various individuals involved with Langlois and French film in general) are shown here. The new wavers considered Langlois teacher and father, the man who helped instruct them and nurture their beginnings, schooling them on Dreyer, Murnau, Vigo, Keaton, Chaplin et al, and aiding them in developing the auteur theory espoused in Cahiers and adopted as a rallying cry for the groundbreaking movement. The iconoclastic Langlois was consistently in conflict with the state, who contributed meagerly to his efforts, and were constantly demanding accountability and bureaucratic control. When he was ousted in the late sixties, the new wave directors took to the streets, and the media, leading protests in his defense that eventually led to his return. Langlois was married to Mary Meerson, and had one adopted child. Meerson became his partner in crime, working by his side, and selling art to keep the cinematheque going. Though at its height the Cinematheque had some seventy five employees and sixty thousand films, Langlois died penniless in 1977, all of the utilities in his home turned off, but although his museum was later shut down, his legacy lives on. At one point in the film he says during an interview, “if you feed people crap, they lose their taste buds.” Langlois began when the critical view of the art form was vastly different than it is now. Perhaps as much as anyone, he helped shape how we view cinema, influencing critics, cinephiles, and filmmakers the world over by shaping and enriching our understanding of how to classify and appreciate a history of work.