Henri Langlois: One of the Reasons We're Going to Paris

POST BY DALE June 14, 2010

As part of our research for our Paris exploration of the seminal May 1968 events in France, we will visit the French Cinematheque, one of the great repositories of cinema treasures in the world. The dismissal of its founder, Henri Langlois, triggered a series of strikes and shutdowns led by Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard and Claude Chabrol in the French film industry in 1968. I am posting a short essay I wrote on a recent documentary on Langlois, THE PHANTOM OF THE CINEMATHEQUE, which I originally posted on my website, DaleMPollock.com, as part of my Movie A Day Blog. Please visit my blog in addition to this blog for other reviews of French films relevant to our research of this exciting and unprecedented time in modern Western history:

HENRI LANGLOIS: PHANTOM OF THE CINEMATHEQUE (2005). Produced, directed, written by Jacques Richard. With Henri Langlois, Claude Berri, Claude Chabrol, Lotte Eisner, Philippe Garrel, Jean-Luc Godard, Alfred Hitchcock, Mary Meerson, Eric Rohmer, Francois Truffaut, Jack Valenti.

A fascinating and compelling story of the preservationist who helped save the patrimony of cinema itself, HENRI LANGLOIS is more than a tribute film -- it's a paean to the art of moving images. Without the Cinematheque, there was no Truffaut, Godard, Chabrol, Rohmer, Jacques Rivette or Maurice Pialat, because they never would have become film critics and cineastes without Langlois, his screening rooms and most importantly his taste to guide them. This overweight, greasy-looking mess of a man did more than help revolutionize French cinema in the late 1950s and early 1960s -- he helped perserve the artificats from the birth of film as a medium and an art form, not only the surviving works of Lumiere and Melies, but costumes, props, set designs and cinemabilia used in making films all over the world, from Hollywood to Denmark. Langlois ressembled a whirling dervish whose feverish activity was all interior -- his bulk looked difficult to move, and it seemed to take a shrewish wife and emotional taskmaster in Mary Meerson to propel him into action. But if there was one film to be saved, it was if he was instantly ignited. "One must save everything, buy everything," Langlois lectuers one of his many interviewers in the film. "Those who think they have the good taste to select the best films are idiots." Langlois was an effective ambassador of cinema, but a terrible manager, so when Culture Minister and French cultural hero Andre Malraux tried to sack him in early 1968, first the French film industry and then the Cannes Film Festival were shut down by workers led by Truffaut and Godard. Many believe this helped pave the way for the May 1968 student and worker strikes that gripped first Paris, then France and ultimately much of Europe. The government relented, but then cut Langlois off and he lost 80% of the Cinematheque's staff. Langlois seemed to have a particular knack for pissing off government bureaucrats, and he was an active participant in behind the scenes struggles to maintain control of the Cinematheque for decades. One can say Langlois inadvertantly helped shape the path of modern culture and politics, although his passion was his bizarre and worshipful Musee du Cinema, which existed briefly in Paris's Palace Chaillot until an adjacent fire doomed it to an existence in storage. It was like being inside of Langlois's head, filled with the memories and images of classic cinema, personified in the actual detritus of the industry. That this legacy was squandered is tragic, but Langlois could not ask to be feted in better style than in this loving, informative and interesting documentary. By celebrating Langlois through the medium he loved so well, Richard completes a circle, just as the reels of the projector keep spinning long after the film has run its course.