Dear friend Spencer Sundell, who of late has taken to squirrelling away tins of obscure 8mm film rarities, dropped by an earlier entry to update us on the works of Georges Méliès.
I myself remain locked in my tower of Google research on a couple of posts, and so this much juicy gum-flappin’ begs to be promoted from comment to guest post. Hope you don’t mind, Spanky!
In my (much) earlier comment, I stated I thought the aforementioned print of Méliès’ “Conquest of the Pole” was complete. I was mistaken.
(Another correction is warranted: “Conquest of the Pole” [Á la Conquête du Pôle] was actually released in 1912, one of four he produced that year (three of which survive).
In fact, my Super 8 print is the US version which, while the most commonly seen, is indeed shorter than that originally released by Mssr. Méliès.
True Méliès geeks will be interested, if not jubilantly astonished, to learn that a tinted and toned 31 minute print (!!) with German intertitles was discovered ca. 2000 at the Filmarchiv Austria. This is far and away the most lengthy and, certainly, authoritative print of “Conquest of the Pole” known to exist. Alas, the chances of seeing this print are pretty slim for us common folk. (It will also be joyous news that still more prints of films hitherto thought lost were discovered in 1999 at Moscows Gosfilmofond. This means that about 40 percent of Méliès’ 510 films have been recovered — a true miracle given that Méliès himself burned all of his negatives in a fit of depression and anger ca. 1924, not to mention that 80 percent of all silent films are believed lost. For more info, see here. )
But there is a so-called “French version” that is more available that includes an additional 2-3 minutes of footage not seen in the US version. The longest sequence shows several other polar craft being wheeled out for our viewing pleasure. A few of these craft are then shown attempting to begin the voyage to the Pole, all crashing, exploding, and failing spectacularly. There are a few other additional shots scattered throughout, most notably a slightly extended treatment of the man who clings to the rope attached to an ascending balloon (from which he falls only to explode after being impaled on a church steeple — a bit that survives in the US version). A few additional shots are also included the actual journey to the Pole.
The US and “French” versions of the entire sequence at the Pole itself does seem to be roughly the same (despite some odd jump cuts that may or may not be due to damage incurred in the decades since the film’s release). However, the French version includes a slightly longer version of the expedition’s triumphant return, very much harkening to Méliès’ “A Trip to the Moon” made some 10 years prior.
For those who may wish to see the surviving “French version,” I suggest seeking out the excellent home video anthology, “Ballerinas in Hell” (Unknown Video), which also includes the only home video editions of several other landmark Méliès films. It was originally released on VHS, but can be found from a few purveyors in a DVD edition — get ’em while you can!
For those interested in renting or owning a 16mm print of the French version, visit the EmGee Film Library/Glenn Photo Supply at http://emgee.freeyellow.com/ — but activate your pop-up blocker before you do. Carpe diem — word has it the place is going out of business sooner rather than later. A tragic thing: EmGee/Glenn has the largest and widest-ranging 16mm film rental/purchasing library on Earth. They seriously rock.
(And no, I get no kickbacks on any of that — I’m just a film geek like you.)
If anyone cares to read about Georges Méliès, I recommend the following books:
“Artificially Arranged Scenes: The Films of Georges Méliès” by John Frazier (G.K. Hall & Co., 1979). The grail. Hopelessly rare, but absolutely superlative. It never even shows up at Bookfinder.com (which is saying something), and I only found a copy thanks to the Univ. of Washington graduate library. The first half or so is finely written bio-history. But the real treasure is the last half-plus, which consists of a film-by-film chronology of dang near every film he made, providing detailed scenarios, production details, and even info about which film archives have the surviving prints. Amply illustrated throughout. +/- 240 pp.
“A Trip to the Movies. Georges Méliès, Filmmaker and Magician (1861 – 1938)” by Paolo Cherchi Usai (International Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, 1991). Hideously expensive if you can find it (especially since it’s only 185pp.). But Signore Usai is one of the foremost silent film scholars in the world. As in Senior Curator of the Motion Picture Dept. at the George Eastman House. That said: I’ve never actually held one of these in my hands. So okay, caveat emptor.
“Marvellous Méliès” by Paul Hammond (St. Martin’s Press, 1975). Despite some weaknesses, probably the best of the more-available (and affordable) Méliès books, it is a somewhat rambling bio/history of Méliès and his works. Includes a selected (though extensive) filmography (albeit with titles and years only). Does include some misconceptions resolved by later scholarship, though that’s not really the author’s fault. Extensively illustrated throughout.
“‘Georges Méliès, Mage’ et ‘Mes Memoires par Méliès'” by Maurice Bessy and Lo Duca (Prisma Editions, 1945). Another expensive one, alas, but the other grail for Méliès freaks. Published only en Francais, it consists of writings by the aforementioned authors, as well as lengthy excerpts from Méliès’ own memoir. Fortunately fer us dum Inglish talkerz, it is profusely illustrated throughout with stills, very rare original sketches by Méliès, and other fine treasures — which is what makes it worth the steep price you’re likely to find. The editions I see around online are all very expensive (tho lovely) hardbounds, but I know a softcover was published (because I’ve seen in the Univ. of Washington library).
FWIW, I do not recommend the recent Elizabeth Ezra book, “Georges Méliès: Birth of the Auteur” — unless you really like ponderous, Masters-thesis-type film crit yammer.
Okay. Enough. Go outside and play.
— Spencer Sundell