34 reviews
I had always wanted to check out this Silent version of the Edgar Allan Poe horror perennial, and not just because of Luis Bunuel's involvement; actually, he only served as Second Assistant in charge of interiors on the film – so much for the co-directing credit that is often attributed to him (including the DVD front cover). Ironically, when the disc was released by All Day Entertainment, I recall complaining about its "Collector's Edition" moniker when it was a bare-bones affair apart from an essay by the director himself – the company's President David Kalat, however, was prompt to inform me that the proposed Bunuel-related supplements fell through at the last minute.
Anyway, this is now my third viewing of the movie: the second had occurred either as part of an earlier Bunuel retrospective or to compare it with one of the many other filmic renditions of the tale. For the record, a viewing of the obscure low-budgeted 1949 British effort followed this re-acquaintance with the Epstein film, while I also own and have watched the U.S. short (also from 1928) and the 1960 Roger Corman/Vincent Price classic but there are at least five more versions I would be interested in catching (by such notable directors as Alexandre Astruc, Jan Svankmajer, Jesus Franco, Curtis Harrington and Ken Russell)!
That said, my reaction to the film under review continues to be ambivalent: to begin with, this is perhaps one of only two cases which can truly be described as a dream-like experience (the other being the equally haunting but more readily satisfying VAMPYR [1932] by one of my favorite auteurs, Carl Theodor Dreyer); however, the sluggish pacing makes its brief 66 minutes feel long not helped by the archaic parts of the accompanying score (at least, some of it was suitably avant-gardist) and the droning narration, reading the English translation of the original French intertitles, by respected but heavily-accented actor Jean-Pierre Aumont!
Visually, the film really cannot be faulted as the Impressionist first half (with images that could almost be taken for paintings) giving way unsurprisingly to Expressionism in the much-anticipated high-strung finale. Even more than in MAUPRAT (1926), Epstein virtually lets the camera and the editing tell the story: the acting actually leaves much to be desired (especially since both Usher and his guest are way overage, with the latter bafflingly also made out to be quite deaf!); as for Madeleine, she is played by Marguerite Gance (wife of famous pioneer film-maker Abel – Bunuel's disdain of whom eventually cost him his job!), who manages the character's essential frailty and subsequent wraith-like features. Incidentally, Roderick and Madeleine are here husband and wife rather than brother and sister; other unwarranted changes to the source material were its depiction of the Usher mansion as something of a monstrous abode, akin to Castle Dracula, and the rather disappointing climax in which the Ushers actually survive the ordeal – thus rendering the title pointless!
Again, the power (and reputation) of the film rests squarely on its memorable detail: taking a cue from Poe's "The Oval Portrait", Madeleine's 'painting' by Roderick literally comes to life as its subject fades away more and more (at one point, Madeleine even feels her husband's brush stroke on the canvas, as if it had really touched her cheek); her eventual succumbing to catalepsy, played out in slow-motion; the lengthy ritual of her burial (her resting-place even lying across the river, a la Bunuel's own much-later THE RIVER AND DEATH [1955]); her 'resurrection' (amusingly, the name Ligeia also crops up as an ancestor in the Usher family crypt!), with the sight of the casket moving about in the grave anticipating the surreal coffin-scurrying-through-the-wilderness sequence from the Spanish maestro's SIMON OF THE DESERT (1965), etc.
Despite the rather grainy DVD transfer (the faults of the print exposed all the more on my 40" TV monitor), the quality of the cinematography comes though – highlighting both the desolate, fog-bound landscape and the expansive interiors (the wind blowing through the house results in constantly billowing curtains and books falling from the library shelves in slow-motion); as already mentioned, Epstein practically runs the gamut of the cinematic language along the way, adopting such techniques as cross-cutting (at various points during one particular sequence incorporating, for no very good reason, a couple of frogs engaged in the act of copulation!) and superimposition, down to shaking the camera in order to evoke a character's disorientation. Unfortunately, the all-important closing moments of the film are rushed and decidedly muddled – even diminishing a nice effect ostensibly created by a constellation of stars, which appears in the skies behind the mansion, shaped like the Ushers' warped family-tree!
While highly acclaimed in some quarters - with hyberbolic claims ranging from "the finest horror film ever made" to "the pinnacle of artistic achievement in European cinema of the 1920s" - this version would be all but forgotten forty years later (it does not even earn a mention in Carlos Clarens' influential tome "An Illustrated History Of The Horror Film") and the exact same destiny befell Epstein himself later on, despite having been one of the three key avant-garde French exponents of the era (the others were the afore-mentioned Abel Gance and Marcel L'Herbier).
Anyway, this is now my third viewing of the movie: the second had occurred either as part of an earlier Bunuel retrospective or to compare it with one of the many other filmic renditions of the tale. For the record, a viewing of the obscure low-budgeted 1949 British effort followed this re-acquaintance with the Epstein film, while I also own and have watched the U.S. short (also from 1928) and the 1960 Roger Corman/Vincent Price classic but there are at least five more versions I would be interested in catching (by such notable directors as Alexandre Astruc, Jan Svankmajer, Jesus Franco, Curtis Harrington and Ken Russell)!
That said, my reaction to the film under review continues to be ambivalent: to begin with, this is perhaps one of only two cases which can truly be described as a dream-like experience (the other being the equally haunting but more readily satisfying VAMPYR [1932] by one of my favorite auteurs, Carl Theodor Dreyer); however, the sluggish pacing makes its brief 66 minutes feel long not helped by the archaic parts of the accompanying score (at least, some of it was suitably avant-gardist) and the droning narration, reading the English translation of the original French intertitles, by respected but heavily-accented actor Jean-Pierre Aumont!
Visually, the film really cannot be faulted as the Impressionist first half (with images that could almost be taken for paintings) giving way unsurprisingly to Expressionism in the much-anticipated high-strung finale. Even more than in MAUPRAT (1926), Epstein virtually lets the camera and the editing tell the story: the acting actually leaves much to be desired (especially since both Usher and his guest are way overage, with the latter bafflingly also made out to be quite deaf!); as for Madeleine, she is played by Marguerite Gance (wife of famous pioneer film-maker Abel – Bunuel's disdain of whom eventually cost him his job!), who manages the character's essential frailty and subsequent wraith-like features. Incidentally, Roderick and Madeleine are here husband and wife rather than brother and sister; other unwarranted changes to the source material were its depiction of the Usher mansion as something of a monstrous abode, akin to Castle Dracula, and the rather disappointing climax in which the Ushers actually survive the ordeal – thus rendering the title pointless!
Again, the power (and reputation) of the film rests squarely on its memorable detail: taking a cue from Poe's "The Oval Portrait", Madeleine's 'painting' by Roderick literally comes to life as its subject fades away more and more (at one point, Madeleine even feels her husband's brush stroke on the canvas, as if it had really touched her cheek); her eventual succumbing to catalepsy, played out in slow-motion; the lengthy ritual of her burial (her resting-place even lying across the river, a la Bunuel's own much-later THE RIVER AND DEATH [1955]); her 'resurrection' (amusingly, the name Ligeia also crops up as an ancestor in the Usher family crypt!), with the sight of the casket moving about in the grave anticipating the surreal coffin-scurrying-through-the-wilderness sequence from the Spanish maestro's SIMON OF THE DESERT (1965), etc.
Despite the rather grainy DVD transfer (the faults of the print exposed all the more on my 40" TV monitor), the quality of the cinematography comes though – highlighting both the desolate, fog-bound landscape and the expansive interiors (the wind blowing through the house results in constantly billowing curtains and books falling from the library shelves in slow-motion); as already mentioned, Epstein practically runs the gamut of the cinematic language along the way, adopting such techniques as cross-cutting (at various points during one particular sequence incorporating, for no very good reason, a couple of frogs engaged in the act of copulation!) and superimposition, down to shaking the camera in order to evoke a character's disorientation. Unfortunately, the all-important closing moments of the film are rushed and decidedly muddled – even diminishing a nice effect ostensibly created by a constellation of stars, which appears in the skies behind the mansion, shaped like the Ushers' warped family-tree!
While highly acclaimed in some quarters - with hyberbolic claims ranging from "the finest horror film ever made" to "the pinnacle of artistic achievement in European cinema of the 1920s" - this version would be all but forgotten forty years later (it does not even earn a mention in Carlos Clarens' influential tome "An Illustrated History Of The Horror Film") and the exact same destiny befell Epstein himself later on, despite having been one of the three key avant-garde French exponents of the era (the others were the afore-mentioned Abel Gance and Marcel L'Herbier).
- Bunuel1976
- Oct 23, 2010
- Permalink
As was inevitable, movies of the silent era depended on their imagery in a way that became less important after the introduction of sound. During the same time period there were a number of hugely significant art movements that would influence the relatively new medium of cinema. Art trends such as cubism, dada, expressionism and surrealism had enormous impact on films of the time. The Fall of the House of Usher is a good example of a film based on 19th century literature but brought to the screen via the artistic sensibilities of the day, namely expressionism and surrealism. Because of this, like its peers such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Nosferatu, it has attained a timeless quality and it will always remain a fascinating art-horror film.
The plot-line such that it is, is about a man named Allan who visits his friend Roderick Usher at his remote mansion. Usher lives with his sick wife Madeline, who suffers from some mysterious unknown disease. He is obsessed in painting a portrait of her. She dies and Usher, unable to accept it, descends into madness.
The tone is definitely downbeat and this is reflected by the gloomy haunting imagery used throughout. The strikingly inventive visuals escalate as the film progresses as a way of reflecting Roderick Usher's journey into insanity. Billowing curtains, close-ups of a giant pendulum, a haunting painting of Usher's wife, a moon-lit trip to the mausoleum and swirling mist are just some of the details captured. The film is overloaded in creepy Gothic atmosphere. Production design is excellent, with the grounds of the mansion populated with dead trees and swirling mist, while the interior has enormously high ceilinged rooms decorated with mirrors, curtains and Gothic furniture. In keeping with the film's artistic bent, everything is photographed quite excellently with many close-ups and unusual angles. The overall feeling of the film is that of a fever-dream which is very much in keeping with the central character's damaged state of mind.
In the best silent films, the storyline is very much secondary to the ambiance. The Fall of the House of Usher is no different and is one of the greatest silent horror films. It's an often quite stunning mood piece and comes highly recommended.
The plot-line such that it is, is about a man named Allan who visits his friend Roderick Usher at his remote mansion. Usher lives with his sick wife Madeline, who suffers from some mysterious unknown disease. He is obsessed in painting a portrait of her. She dies and Usher, unable to accept it, descends into madness.
The tone is definitely downbeat and this is reflected by the gloomy haunting imagery used throughout. The strikingly inventive visuals escalate as the film progresses as a way of reflecting Roderick Usher's journey into insanity. Billowing curtains, close-ups of a giant pendulum, a haunting painting of Usher's wife, a moon-lit trip to the mausoleum and swirling mist are just some of the details captured. The film is overloaded in creepy Gothic atmosphere. Production design is excellent, with the grounds of the mansion populated with dead trees and swirling mist, while the interior has enormously high ceilinged rooms decorated with mirrors, curtains and Gothic furniture. In keeping with the film's artistic bent, everything is photographed quite excellently with many close-ups and unusual angles. The overall feeling of the film is that of a fever-dream which is very much in keeping with the central character's damaged state of mind.
In the best silent films, the storyline is very much secondary to the ambiance. The Fall of the House of Usher is no different and is one of the greatest silent horror films. It's an often quite stunning mood piece and comes highly recommended.
- Red-Barracuda
- Sep 12, 2010
- Permalink
- lemon_magic
- Nov 3, 2010
- Permalink
Predictably morbid and grim, this early cinematic tribute to Poe offers some interesting images and beautifully haunting music. I liked the sequence showing the lace-draped coffin, as it was carried out of that cavernous room.
More stylistic than substantive, the overall effect of the film is to engender a sense of suffocating gloom, rather than to tell an interesting story. It's very much like what one would expect in a nightmare. Space seems strung-out. People are not quite real. Pacing is so slow as to render time suspended between two swings of the clock pendulum.
I don't recall a film that conveyed such an overwhelming sense of introverted bleakness, oppression, and ubiquitous death. Even the trees were dead.
A lot of viewers will find this film lifeless ... so to speak. But for those interested in the antiquity of the occult, or Poe in particular, this film will excite like no other.
More stylistic than substantive, the overall effect of the film is to engender a sense of suffocating gloom, rather than to tell an interesting story. It's very much like what one would expect in a nightmare. Space seems strung-out. People are not quite real. Pacing is so slow as to render time suspended between two swings of the clock pendulum.
I don't recall a film that conveyed such an overwhelming sense of introverted bleakness, oppression, and ubiquitous death. Even the trees were dead.
A lot of viewers will find this film lifeless ... so to speak. But for those interested in the antiquity of the occult, or Poe in particular, this film will excite like no other.
- Lechuguilla
- Nov 7, 2005
- Permalink
A very influential movie in its time, mainly for its imaginative cinematography and cutting.
The story itself is hard to follow, but not very important since the movie has more essence than substance.
The opening scene of the peasants cringing hearing that someone wants to visit the Ushers is later reused many times (i.e., in Dracula).
The story itself is hard to follow, but not very important since the movie has more essence than substance.
The opening scene of the peasants cringing hearing that someone wants to visit the Ushers is later reused many times (i.e., in Dracula).
The Fall of the House of Usher is about... well, I suppose it's about someone, Allan, visiting the house of Usher, run by Roderick, who lives with his sick wife Madeline and spends most of his time painting and trying to find a cure for whatever her supernatural-esquire disease is. The rest of what happens I cannot really say. Maybe because I'm still not totally sure myself. While I've yet to read the original Poe story, or see the later, more well known Roger Corman production with Vincent Price, I would probably advise on what little I know in comparing both films for the 1960 version if you're most concerned about sticking straight to the story.
Apparently, by the way, Luis Bunuel, who was director Jean Epstein's chief collaborator, quit after creative clashes over this issue. For whatever reason it was, I'd be hard-pressed to figure on how much influence he did or didn't leave on the picture. As it stands, and probably sticking to a certain aesthetic that was familiar for those in love with Poe, the silent version of Fall of the House of Usher is chock full of atmosphere in every kind of delicious, creepy, wonderful kind of connotation. The production design is sometimes full of a smoke, or a smoke-filled tint from the camera, and the outside of the mansion is covered in dirty fields and dead trees. The inside of the house, the interiors of the walls, the mirrors, the paints of Roderick's, and the placement of the camera in some strange angles (i.e. guitar) all build up to something unexpected.
Would I call it surrealism just because of Bunuel's involvement? Yes and no. Yes in that, of course, there are some striking moments that could only come out of a dream &/or a desire to just completely tool around with the audience's head just for the hell of it. And no because it's really Epstein's movie through it all, and he crafts this mostly as a somber, quietly intense picture where he experiments not in as a surrealist but as a director of contemplative Gothic horror. I can't even totally understand what absorbed me, but everything in the 'plastic', technical sense of the word did, not to mention the performances by Debucourt, Lamy, and especially Gance who all seem to be drifting in and out of the fantastical consciousness that seems to be living in this place, where life and death merge or go un-hinged, and (as another reviewer noted) is like a slow-poisoning prison.
Just, as I said, don't watch it to be wrapped up in 'what happens next in the "plot"', as it's more about what may happen in the next twist with a setting or a mood, or if a character should suddenly have a look that changes everything. It's not the greatest of the near-end silent period, but it's close.
Apparently, by the way, Luis Bunuel, who was director Jean Epstein's chief collaborator, quit after creative clashes over this issue. For whatever reason it was, I'd be hard-pressed to figure on how much influence he did or didn't leave on the picture. As it stands, and probably sticking to a certain aesthetic that was familiar for those in love with Poe, the silent version of Fall of the House of Usher is chock full of atmosphere in every kind of delicious, creepy, wonderful kind of connotation. The production design is sometimes full of a smoke, or a smoke-filled tint from the camera, and the outside of the mansion is covered in dirty fields and dead trees. The inside of the house, the interiors of the walls, the mirrors, the paints of Roderick's, and the placement of the camera in some strange angles (i.e. guitar) all build up to something unexpected.
Would I call it surrealism just because of Bunuel's involvement? Yes and no. Yes in that, of course, there are some striking moments that could only come out of a dream &/or a desire to just completely tool around with the audience's head just for the hell of it. And no because it's really Epstein's movie through it all, and he crafts this mostly as a somber, quietly intense picture where he experiments not in as a surrealist but as a director of contemplative Gothic horror. I can't even totally understand what absorbed me, but everything in the 'plastic', technical sense of the word did, not to mention the performances by Debucourt, Lamy, and especially Gance who all seem to be drifting in and out of the fantastical consciousness that seems to be living in this place, where life and death merge or go un-hinged, and (as another reviewer noted) is like a slow-poisoning prison.
Just, as I said, don't watch it to be wrapped up in 'what happens next in the "plot"', as it's more about what may happen in the next twist with a setting or a mood, or if a character should suddenly have a look that changes everything. It's not the greatest of the near-end silent period, but it's close.
- Quinoa1984
- Jul 7, 2008
- Permalink
Wow! Words cannot describe how absolutely magical this film is, but I will try. Its not often that a film will truly captivate me from moment one as this one has, especially in the world of silent film. Its been a long time since I've been glued to the screen in complete rapture. Granted, I like the silent medium and of course I respect it, but usually I watch them as a piece of film history; I see them for what they are and judge them only amongst their peers: other silent films. But this silent film is like no other! There were many times when I felt as though if Guy Maddin were to make a actual serious film this would be it. Anyone who has seen 'Cowards Bend The Knee' or 'Saddest Music In The World' will know what I'm referring to. Throughout the film I kept thinking that it looked "new" and was made to look old. Some of the special effects such as the swirling fog were just mesmerizing so much so that I found myself wondering why in our modern day we haven't done something so simple yet effective (at least as compared to the films I've experienced).
Even the score that they created for it was incredible. There were some scenes in the beginning of the film, especially ones where Allan was approaching the house, that I didn't think quite fit, but for the rest of the 95% of the film it went along with the action of the film perfectly.
While everything in the film is as close to perfect as film gets, I must point out the acting was so well done as to almost bring me to tears. I cant quite explain how that is possible, but it is. Each tiny emotion shows through so remarkably well. I really would love to commend the actor who played Roderick Usher for his wonderful display. I even feel right in comparing his acting to the likes of the female lead in 'The Passion Of Joan Of Arc' -- and thats hard to beat!
Oh, and the cinematography! Its absolutely impeccable! And I'm not just saying that due to the fact that "its the best they could do back then". It really could rival any modern day film in that regard. It makes me miss shots of a large looming building from down below instead of the aerial helicopter shots most films use now; so macabre and eerily inviting. This film was definitely ahead of its time thats for sure.
I'm not sure how much a screenplay translates to a silent film, but whatever/however Bunuel contributed, it definitely worked. Even though there weren't any overtly surrealistic things going on, you could definitely smell the Bunuel in it. The film is like a dream that you don't want to wake up from even though at its heart it is a nightmare.
Even the score that they created for it was incredible. There were some scenes in the beginning of the film, especially ones where Allan was approaching the house, that I didn't think quite fit, but for the rest of the 95% of the film it went along with the action of the film perfectly.
While everything in the film is as close to perfect as film gets, I must point out the acting was so well done as to almost bring me to tears. I cant quite explain how that is possible, but it is. Each tiny emotion shows through so remarkably well. I really would love to commend the actor who played Roderick Usher for his wonderful display. I even feel right in comparing his acting to the likes of the female lead in 'The Passion Of Joan Of Arc' -- and thats hard to beat!
Oh, and the cinematography! Its absolutely impeccable! And I'm not just saying that due to the fact that "its the best they could do back then". It really could rival any modern day film in that regard. It makes me miss shots of a large looming building from down below instead of the aerial helicopter shots most films use now; so macabre and eerily inviting. This film was definitely ahead of its time thats for sure.
I'm not sure how much a screenplay translates to a silent film, but whatever/however Bunuel contributed, it definitely worked. Even though there weren't any overtly surrealistic things going on, you could definitely smell the Bunuel in it. The film is like a dream that you don't want to wake up from even though at its heart it is a nightmare.
- rivethead808
- Sep 9, 2006
- Permalink
- writers_reign
- Jun 22, 2008
- Permalink
A stranger called Allan (Charles Lamy) goes to an inn and requests transportation to the House of Usher. The locals remain reluctant, but he gets a coach to transport him to the place. He is the sole friend of Roderick Usher (Jean Debucourt), who leaves in the eerie house with his sick wife Madeleine Usher (Marguerite Gance) and her doctor (Fournez-Goffard). Madeleine is the beloved muse and model and is being painted by Roderick. When she dies, Roderick does not accept her death, and in a dark night, Madeleine returns.
For those like me that have not read the story of Edgar Allan Poe, the conclusion of "La Chute de la Maison Usher" is quite confused. However, the Gothic cinematography is very impressive, recalling the German Expressionism. It is amazing how Jean Epstein was able to produce such atmosphere, considering the primitive technology of 1928, with difficulties in lighting, sensibility of films, edition table and portability of cameras. However, the shadows and lights are really amazing in this black and white film. This movie was the first work of Luis Buñuel in the cinema industry, working as assistant of Jean Epstein. Just as a curiosity, the resemblance of Charles Lamy with Carlos Alberto Parreira, the coach of the Brazilian soccer team, is incredible. My vote is nine.
Title (Brazil): "A Queda da Casa de Usher" ("The Fall of the House of Usher")
For those like me that have not read the story of Edgar Allan Poe, the conclusion of "La Chute de la Maison Usher" is quite confused. However, the Gothic cinematography is very impressive, recalling the German Expressionism. It is amazing how Jean Epstein was able to produce such atmosphere, considering the primitive technology of 1928, with difficulties in lighting, sensibility of films, edition table and portability of cameras. However, the shadows and lights are really amazing in this black and white film. This movie was the first work of Luis Buñuel in the cinema industry, working as assistant of Jean Epstein. Just as a curiosity, the resemblance of Charles Lamy with Carlos Alberto Parreira, the coach of the Brazilian soccer team, is incredible. My vote is nine.
Title (Brazil): "A Queda da Casa de Usher" ("The Fall of the House of Usher")
- claudio_carvalho
- Dec 17, 2005
- Permalink
First of all, due to the age of the film it does feel a bit dated in some respects. And it's not about the fact, that there is no audio dialog, rather written text box slided every now and then (if you've seen a few older "silent" movies, you know what I mean), but the film itself, the pictures. All that is down to pictures per second, which make movies seem "akward" nowadays (you can find articles about that if you search for them).
Setting all that aside, it's a powerful story and therefor a powerful movie. I did attend a screening though that was a modernized version. They put modern music over the whole music which not only felt wrong, but was wrong. That particular screening/movie would've gotten a maximum of 3 points from me, but I'm not letting that influence my voting as you can see. I'm just warning you not to watch that version yourself, because it is really horrible and out of tune ... literally. Watch the original, even if it has edits and pictures that you are used to by know, because they have been done so many times ... remember: this is (one of the examples) where they set the blueprints for things to come
Setting all that aside, it's a powerful story and therefor a powerful movie. I did attend a screening though that was a modernized version. They put modern music over the whole music which not only felt wrong, but was wrong. That particular screening/movie would've gotten a maximum of 3 points from me, but I'm not letting that influence my voting as you can see. I'm just warning you not to watch that version yourself, because it is really horrible and out of tune ... literally. Watch the original, even if it has edits and pictures that you are used to by know, because they have been done so many times ... remember: this is (one of the examples) where they set the blueprints for things to come
I had the chance to see this film about 20 years ago and it's still quite fresh in my mind (if you knew me you'd find this very unusual). I still remember how I was wrapping myself up during the course of the film as I was feeling colder and colder - it was a summer night, mind you.
The plot sticks tightly to the original story and it shows France's affinity with Edgar Allan Poe since it was the great Charles Beaudelaire himself who translated Poe's work into French.
The film manages to create an unusual sense of discomfort unlike most classic horror films where the settings etc. result more in a feeling of (uneasy) cosiness. The insanity in Roderick Usher's face is utterly believable as well as the parts of the other characters. What tops it all up is the constant draught in the mansion. Wall hangings are steadily moving and bits of paper and dust are blowing through the corridors. Hence the above mentioned feeling of physical coldness.
All I can say is I need to see this film again and I would be grateful if anyone could point me in the right direction (Quelq'un en France, peut-etre?).
The plot sticks tightly to the original story and it shows France's affinity with Edgar Allan Poe since it was the great Charles Beaudelaire himself who translated Poe's work into French.
The film manages to create an unusual sense of discomfort unlike most classic horror films where the settings etc. result more in a feeling of (uneasy) cosiness. The insanity in Roderick Usher's face is utterly believable as well as the parts of the other characters. What tops it all up is the constant draught in the mansion. Wall hangings are steadily moving and bits of paper and dust are blowing through the corridors. Hence the above mentioned feeling of physical coldness.
All I can say is I need to see this film again and I would be grateful if anyone could point me in the right direction (Quelq'un en France, peut-etre?).
- sn.toysoldier
- Jun 12, 2000
- Permalink
A moody and atmospheric reworking of Edgar Allan Poe's famous story from Jean Epstein that works hard to create a strong sense of foreboding. Its' avant-garde take on Poe's Gothic horror proves to be unexpectedly incompatible, however, and the sense that Epstein is interested only in dazzling us with his artistry is overwhelming.
- JoeytheBrit
- Jun 29, 2020
- Permalink
I've read the Poe source for this film more times than I can remember, and Epstein's film captures that story's sense of decay and degeneracy the best by far. Corman's version can't hold a candle to this film; in fact, I feel as if I'm doing a grave disservice to Epstein's work by mentioning Corman's film in the same sentence with it. Let it pass.
Although I'd read about Epstein's USHER for many years and pondered the stills, particularly of the Lady Madeline in her billowing, winding sheet, I was not at all prepared for the terrifying beauty and hypnotic delirium of this motion picture.
It's certainly not for all tastes, and, for those not particularly well-read in outre or occult literature, it will be inscrutable. But for those with an open mind and an appreciation of convulsive beauty, it's hard to find a more exquisite film.
Although I'd read about Epstein's USHER for many years and pondered the stills, particularly of the Lady Madeline in her billowing, winding sheet, I was not at all prepared for the terrifying beauty and hypnotic delirium of this motion picture.
It's certainly not for all tastes, and, for those not particularly well-read in outre or occult literature, it will be inscrutable. But for those with an open mind and an appreciation of convulsive beauty, it's hard to find a more exquisite film.
By "Dracula" we all think of Christopher Lee. By Edgar Allen Poe adaptations we all think of Vincent Price.
However before their version of the story there were other, often more artistic, adaptations. With respect to "Dracula" it is relatively well known that before the version of Terence Fisher from 1958 with Christopher Lee in the lead there were adaptations from Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau ("Nosferatu", 1922), Tod Browning ("Dracula", 1931) and Carl Theodor Dreyer ("Vampyr", 1932). But what was the artistic predecessor of "The house of Usher" (1960, Roger Corman) with Vincent Price in the lead?
The answer is the far less known French version of Jean Epstein ("La chute de la maison Usher"). The film really is one of a kind. The atmosphere comes mostly from the set pieces and the acting is kept to a minimum. Marguerite Gance (the wife of French director Abel Gabce) who plays Madeleine Usher acts not at all. To put it disrespectfully, she is one of the set pieces.
Although a film that is one af a kind can't be compared in the proper sense of the word, Dreyers "Vampyr" is the film that comes closest of the classic Dracula productions.
In making "The fall of the house of Usher" Epstein cooperated with Luis Bunuel. Although Bunuel later became the more famous director, I think Epstein deserves most of the credits for "Usher". Epstein was an authoritative film theoretician associated with the French impressionist movement.
I mentioned earlier that the mood of the film is to a great extent attributable to the set pieces. Most striking is the central hall in the Usher castle. It is an immense room, sparsely decorated with furniture and possessing an immense chimney. It would not surprise me as this chimney was an inspiration for Orson Welles when working on "Citizen Kane" (1941).
However before their version of the story there were other, often more artistic, adaptations. With respect to "Dracula" it is relatively well known that before the version of Terence Fisher from 1958 with Christopher Lee in the lead there were adaptations from Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau ("Nosferatu", 1922), Tod Browning ("Dracula", 1931) and Carl Theodor Dreyer ("Vampyr", 1932). But what was the artistic predecessor of "The house of Usher" (1960, Roger Corman) with Vincent Price in the lead?
The answer is the far less known French version of Jean Epstein ("La chute de la maison Usher"). The film really is one of a kind. The atmosphere comes mostly from the set pieces and the acting is kept to a minimum. Marguerite Gance (the wife of French director Abel Gabce) who plays Madeleine Usher acts not at all. To put it disrespectfully, she is one of the set pieces.
Although a film that is one af a kind can't be compared in the proper sense of the word, Dreyers "Vampyr" is the film that comes closest of the classic Dracula productions.
In making "The fall of the house of Usher" Epstein cooperated with Luis Bunuel. Although Bunuel later became the more famous director, I think Epstein deserves most of the credits for "Usher". Epstein was an authoritative film theoretician associated with the French impressionist movement.
I mentioned earlier that the mood of the film is to a great extent attributable to the set pieces. Most striking is the central hall in the Usher castle. It is an immense room, sparsely decorated with furniture and possessing an immense chimney. It would not surprise me as this chimney was an inspiration for Orson Welles when working on "Citizen Kane" (1941).
- frankde-jong
- Feb 27, 2021
- Permalink
First and foremost: I love the tale of "House of Usher", regardless of which film version, and I try to encourage as many people as humanly possible to check out this haunting story of agony and Gothic damnation
So, I swear, if one more person replies me with: "Usher?
Oh, you mean the R&B singer? Yeah, he's cool", then I swear I will go Edgar Allan Poe on his/her ass! Thank you.
Admittedly I'm not much of an art connoisseur, but I reckon this silent classic is pure and genuine art! It's a stunningly beautiful, haunting, surreal and absorbing impressionistic interpretation of Poe's short story. The plot is undeniably subsequent to the atmosphere and choreography, and I actually don't recognize the storyline from the other versions I've seen. In the other versions, for example the awesome Roger Corman production starring the almighty Vincent Price, the Usher kinship is cursed and continuously being punished for the crimes committed by their evil ancestors. Here, it's actually just Sir Roderick Usher who's obsessed with painting a portrait of his lovely wife Madeleine, only The nearer the painting comes to completion, the more his wife weakens due to a strange illness. After her death and burial service, Sir Roderick becomes increasingly mad with the restless ghost of his Madeleine still prowling through the house. The story is often confusion and open for various interpretations, but the wholesome is just downright visually stunning! Director Jean Epstein, with the more than noticeable influence of his young and upcoming assistant director Louis Buñuel, generates an atmosphere that is morbid, depressing and hypnotic from start to finish and multiple sequences are hauntingly surreal; like the funeral march and the storm. I watched the 1997 restored version, during a special film festival where there was a professional pianist providing live musical guidance, and it was one of the most culturally engaged moments of my life. Art like this will surely survive for yet another hundred years.
Admittedly I'm not much of an art connoisseur, but I reckon this silent classic is pure and genuine art! It's a stunningly beautiful, haunting, surreal and absorbing impressionistic interpretation of Poe's short story. The plot is undeniably subsequent to the atmosphere and choreography, and I actually don't recognize the storyline from the other versions I've seen. In the other versions, for example the awesome Roger Corman production starring the almighty Vincent Price, the Usher kinship is cursed and continuously being punished for the crimes committed by their evil ancestors. Here, it's actually just Sir Roderick Usher who's obsessed with painting a portrait of his lovely wife Madeleine, only The nearer the painting comes to completion, the more his wife weakens due to a strange illness. After her death and burial service, Sir Roderick becomes increasingly mad with the restless ghost of his Madeleine still prowling through the house. The story is often confusion and open for various interpretations, but the wholesome is just downright visually stunning! Director Jean Epstein, with the more than noticeable influence of his young and upcoming assistant director Louis Buñuel, generates an atmosphere that is morbid, depressing and hypnotic from start to finish and multiple sequences are hauntingly surreal; like the funeral march and the storm. I watched the 1997 restored version, during a special film festival where there was a professional pianist providing live musical guidance, and it was one of the most culturally engaged moments of my life. Art like this will surely survive for yet another hundred years.
A screening in this year's Shanghai International Film Festival, prior to Epstein's feature, it is a riveting experience to watch Buñuel and Dalí's 21-minute juvenilia UN CHIEN ANDALOU (1929) on the silver screen, an archetypal surrealist disjecta membra takes its ideological and visual flights to an insuperable height, the incontrovertible forefather of experimental cinema, unprecedentedly deconstructing the subconscious undertow of human psyche. Its quixotic montages can still bowl audience over no matter how many times you are primed for its iconic razor-cutting scene in the prologue.
In THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER, adapted from Edgar Allan Poe's famed short story, a young Buñuel is credited as a co-screenwriter, but Epstein's aesthetic trademark as a master of atmospherics holds court here, an expressionist corpse bride horror, is panned out in its excruciatingly glacial pace (at least for a modern-day viewer), but graced by a hauntingly emotive score and Epstein's cracking legerdemain pertaining to the cinematic mobility of "les meubles", inside the titular unheimlich mansion, where resides Sir Roderick Usher (Debucourt) and his dying wife Madeleine (a gaunt Marguerite Gance) (in the novel they are siblings), Allan (Lamy), a friend of Roderick, nominally takes the position as the interloper, is involuntarily thrust into a paranormal revelation when a soul transmigrates, mortality subverted, and perdition betides upon the house of Usher, albeit its inevitably archaic special effects when the crunch hits.
Configuring its simplistic story with an extraordinary sense of visual and logic fluidity, Epstein basks in the narrative's eerie ambient building, rendering it with mind-bending superimposition, and burrowing deep into Roderick's stream of consciousness on the strength of Debucourt's perfervid impression, all mentioned above is vividly presented in its monochromatic flair with original fidelity, speaks volumes of Epstein and co.'s avant-garde artistic progression and undimmed cinematic prowess.
In THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER, adapted from Edgar Allan Poe's famed short story, a young Buñuel is credited as a co-screenwriter, but Epstein's aesthetic trademark as a master of atmospherics holds court here, an expressionist corpse bride horror, is panned out in its excruciatingly glacial pace (at least for a modern-day viewer), but graced by a hauntingly emotive score and Epstein's cracking legerdemain pertaining to the cinematic mobility of "les meubles", inside the titular unheimlich mansion, where resides Sir Roderick Usher (Debucourt) and his dying wife Madeleine (a gaunt Marguerite Gance) (in the novel they are siblings), Allan (Lamy), a friend of Roderick, nominally takes the position as the interloper, is involuntarily thrust into a paranormal revelation when a soul transmigrates, mortality subverted, and perdition betides upon the house of Usher, albeit its inevitably archaic special effects when the crunch hits.
Configuring its simplistic story with an extraordinary sense of visual and logic fluidity, Epstein basks in the narrative's eerie ambient building, rendering it with mind-bending superimposition, and burrowing deep into Roderick's stream of consciousness on the strength of Debucourt's perfervid impression, all mentioned above is vividly presented in its monochromatic flair with original fidelity, speaks volumes of Epstein and co.'s avant-garde artistic progression and undimmed cinematic prowess.
- lasttimeisaw
- Jun 20, 2018
- Permalink
Fully transposition of Edgar Allan Poe's tale. Epstein gives to it a very gothic touch with almost the absence of dialogues, the foggy shots and the several ralenti sequences.
It's clear in the script the hand of Luis Bunuel that gives to the movie all the surreal atmosphere.
It's clear in the script the hand of Luis Bunuel that gives to the movie all the surreal atmosphere.
Film historians note of all the genres the silent movie format excelled, top of the list was the horror film. When "talkies" arrived, scary movies continued to retain much of silent films' visual traits, where less words were for the better. Film critic Roger Ebert noticed "in a classic horror film, almost anything you can say will be superfluous or ridiculous. Notice how carefully the Draculas of talkies have to choose their words to avoid bad laughs."
One of the last silent horror movies before cinema passed the torch to audible was Frances Jean Epstein's October 1928 "The Fall of the House of Usher." The film was was the first full-length version of the Edgar Allan Poe tale brought to the screen. Epstein, whose capable assistant, Spain's Luis Bunuel, worked alongside him in the script and production department, delivered both French Impressionistic as well as German Expressionistic elements into his movie. The Usher house, spacious with very few pieces of furniture, possesses a haunted past handed down from generations of the family. Meanwhile, the smoke and volcanic flames, especially seen towards the end, are a reflection of the home owner's psyche as he deals with the trauma of losing his young wife.
Epstein's lighting, with the high contrast of dark and light, a stunning chiaroscuro illumination, portrays an atmosphere of near insanity as the movie's main character, Roderick Usher (Jean Debucourt), struggles to make sense of his wife's death. A friend is invited to see her portrait, Madeline Usher (Marguerite Gance, French director Abel Gance's wife in real life. Abel appears in an earlier tavern scene.). The painting appears real, especially when the friend thinks he sees her eyes blinking.
The innovative touch of Bunuel's hand is evident in several segments of "The Fall of the House of Usher." The young Spaniard soon emerged as one of cinema's most famous surrealists. Before he had a falling out with Epstein over this film, Bunuel had been a star student in the director's private film school and had displayed an artistic eye while assisting in a number of his films. The two wrote the screenplay on Poe's short story together. But they had a huge disagreement over Poe's original story. Epstein insisted on changing the Usher relationship from the tale's brother/sister twins to a husband/wife pairing. Bunuel felt the alteration would completely change the meaning of the Usher complexities. Also, Bunuel refused to help Epstein's friend and mentor Abel Gance during the production of his 1927 epic "Napoleon." Epstein noticed his student's film avant garde nature and said, "You seem rather surrealist. Beware of surrealists, they are crazy people."
Epstein's work has drawn praise from today's critics. Troy Howarth sees "The Fall of the House of Usher" as one of the most renown of experimental silent feature films, noting "The rapid cutting, fetishistic closeups and generally dreamy ambience bring the movie closer to the realm of filmic poetry than anything else." Entertainment monthly Paste Magazine sees the film as one of the 13 Best Edgar Allen Poe Adaptations. And Ebert has placed it on his selected list of Great Movies.
One of the last silent horror movies before cinema passed the torch to audible was Frances Jean Epstein's October 1928 "The Fall of the House of Usher." The film was was the first full-length version of the Edgar Allan Poe tale brought to the screen. Epstein, whose capable assistant, Spain's Luis Bunuel, worked alongside him in the script and production department, delivered both French Impressionistic as well as German Expressionistic elements into his movie. The Usher house, spacious with very few pieces of furniture, possesses a haunted past handed down from generations of the family. Meanwhile, the smoke and volcanic flames, especially seen towards the end, are a reflection of the home owner's psyche as he deals with the trauma of losing his young wife.
Epstein's lighting, with the high contrast of dark and light, a stunning chiaroscuro illumination, portrays an atmosphere of near insanity as the movie's main character, Roderick Usher (Jean Debucourt), struggles to make sense of his wife's death. A friend is invited to see her portrait, Madeline Usher (Marguerite Gance, French director Abel Gance's wife in real life. Abel appears in an earlier tavern scene.). The painting appears real, especially when the friend thinks he sees her eyes blinking.
The innovative touch of Bunuel's hand is evident in several segments of "The Fall of the House of Usher." The young Spaniard soon emerged as one of cinema's most famous surrealists. Before he had a falling out with Epstein over this film, Bunuel had been a star student in the director's private film school and had displayed an artistic eye while assisting in a number of his films. The two wrote the screenplay on Poe's short story together. But they had a huge disagreement over Poe's original story. Epstein insisted on changing the Usher relationship from the tale's brother/sister twins to a husband/wife pairing. Bunuel felt the alteration would completely change the meaning of the Usher complexities. Also, Bunuel refused to help Epstein's friend and mentor Abel Gance during the production of his 1927 epic "Napoleon." Epstein noticed his student's film avant garde nature and said, "You seem rather surrealist. Beware of surrealists, they are crazy people."
Epstein's work has drawn praise from today's critics. Troy Howarth sees "The Fall of the House of Usher" as one of the most renown of experimental silent feature films, noting "The rapid cutting, fetishistic closeups and generally dreamy ambience bring the movie closer to the realm of filmic poetry than anything else." Entertainment monthly Paste Magazine sees the film as one of the 13 Best Edgar Allen Poe Adaptations. And Ebert has placed it on his selected list of Great Movies.
- springfieldrental
- May 16, 2022
- Permalink
- Leofwine_draca
- May 4, 2021
- Permalink
- poolandrews
- Nov 3, 2006
- Permalink
This memorable adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher" is particularly impressive in its use of visuals and in the macabre, disorienting atmosphere that it creates, which fits in well with the story. Jean Epstein made some rather significant changes to the story, but as a movie it all works very well.
The story changes the central relationship between Roderick and Madeline, and in so doing discards some of Poe's themes, but adds some new ones of its own. Likewise there are other differences as the story unfolds, but Epstein had his own consistent conception of the possibilities in the story, so that it's neither better nor worse than Poe's idea, just different - they are both creative and fascinating conceptions in their own way.
The settings and visual effects are very effective in establishing the atmosphere, and in setting off some of the themes of the story. Some of them, such as the enormous array of flickering candles by which Roderick works, are used as recurring images, with surprisingly haunting results. The pace with which the images come at the viewer is also used as part of the effect. It's quite a distinctive accomplishment, and it's a movie that you won't forget for a while.
The story changes the central relationship between Roderick and Madeline, and in so doing discards some of Poe's themes, but adds some new ones of its own. Likewise there are other differences as the story unfolds, but Epstein had his own consistent conception of the possibilities in the story, so that it's neither better nor worse than Poe's idea, just different - they are both creative and fascinating conceptions in their own way.
The settings and visual effects are very effective in establishing the atmosphere, and in setting off some of the themes of the story. Some of them, such as the enormous array of flickering candles by which Roderick works, are used as recurring images, with surprisingly haunting results. The pace with which the images come at the viewer is also used as part of the effect. It's quite a distinctive accomplishment, and it's a movie that you won't forget for a while.
- Snow Leopard
- Aug 22, 2005
- Permalink