LE VOYAGE IMAGINAIRE
Scen., M.: René Clair. F.: Amédée Morrin, Jimmy Berliet. Scgf.: Robert Gys. Ass. regia: Georges Lacombe, Claude Autant-Lara. Int.: Jean Börlin (Jean), Dolly Davis (Lucie), Albert Préjean (Albert), Jim Gérald (Auguste), Paul Ollivier (il direttore della banca), Maurice Schutz (il chiromante), Marguerite Madys (la fata buona Urgel), Yvonne Legeay (la fata cattiva Sylvaine). Prod.: Edmond Ratisbonne e Rolf de Maré per Les Films Georges Loureau DCP. D.: 75’. Bn
Film Notes
When I watch a film, the first thing I do is position it on the cinema timeline. Le Voyage imaginaire is situated 30 years from the beginning, and 100 years from the present. That’s the first thing that comes to mind.
All the actors are dead. We watch ghosts evolve in the frame, most of them forgotten. Certainly, my macabre spirit pushes me to see the film in a personal way, but that’s the exercise I’m being asked to do here. Moreover, this feeling accentuates the effect of the dream, the subject of this story.
The actors cross the frame laterally – which was the case in most of the films at the beginning – but also in depth, towards the camera – which came later. But most important, and most touching, is the expression of the actors, particularly Jean Börlin (as he dances). You can see in their expressions, their looks, that they are taking part in an exciting, new and magical adventure. The accuracy of the performance takes second place to the wonder of it all. That’s my interpretation, but it’s what I feel when I discover this journey. They are there to convey the story, not to pretend to be the characters they are playing. In fact, they don’t act, they’re just present.
I have the feeling that I’m seeing children using their parents’ cameras when they’re not at home, and that makes me happy. Suddenly, we find ourselves outside, in complex settings with staircases, architecture and sunlight, and we’ve advanced 20 years in cinematographic language.
We’re plunged into reality.
Realism accentuates the passage of time: it’s very close to what we’re experiencing, and the gap in time is more tangible.
The narration is geometric, modern and clever, foreshadowing the virtuoso and innovative director René Clair was to become.
Jean and his feelings for the secretary, symbolised by the bouquet of flowers passed from hand to hand, appear sad. We feel his bitterness without falling about laughing. It would be useful to be able to ask the audience at the time how they felt about this story. But they are no longer around to tell us.
Michel Gondry