The Beauty and the Beast Opera Version Review (Film, 1946/1994)
I’ve written before about being a video technology teacher full time now. I love it. It’s the perfect aggregate of all the niche, industry-specific skills I’ve picked up in a lifetime of working in the arts.
For finals, I typically screen a film of significance to what we focused on that semester and have students write a response in some way. I was talking with one of my colleagues on a field trip and she brought up how she used to teach Jean Cocteau’s The Beauty and the Beast (1946) as part of her film studies curriculum in another school. I knew what this year’s final had to be.
Jean Cocteau’s The Beauty and the Beast is arguably one of the greatest fantasy films ever made. A master of theatrical arts used every trick he had to bring the enchanting tale of a cursed beast trapped in a living castle to life with spectacle, beauty, and empathy. The story is largely told in silence, allowing the mind to enter into a state of childlike wonder, a thesis Cocteau himself lays out at the start of the film:
Children believe what we tell them. They have complete faith in us. They believe that a rose plucked from a garden can plunge a family into conflict. They believe that the hands of a human beast will smoke when he slays a victim, and that this will cause him shame when a young maiden takes up residence in his home. They believe a thousand other simple things.
I ask of you a little of this childlike sympathy and, to bring us luck, let me speak four truly magic words, childhood's "Open Sesame":
A black and white near-silent feature-length film is a tough sell for any audience nowadays, especially one forced to sit through it whether they like it or not. That’s why I took a big swing, borrowed the Criterion edition from the local library, and set the audio for the technological and artistic wonder that is the Philip Glass opera version of the story.
Composer Philip Glass set three of Cocteau’s greatest films to new scores in the early 90s. First came Orphée, then The Beauty and the Beast, and finally Les Enfants terribles. Glass wanted to explore the poetry of Cocteau’s language within the precision of his filmmaking.
For The Beauty and the Beast, this meant squeezing every last opportunity for melody out of a film that prides itself on unspoken ambiance. Glass worked tirelessly to time out the exact rhythm of dialogue so his cast of four opera singers could bring his vision to life. The achievement is already remarkable on film, making great use of digital tracking technology to perfectly sync the recitative with the original dialogue; it’s an even more amazing feature live onstage, requiring synchronization between the projected film, a live orchestra, and a cast of singers to fully bring the audience into the fantasy world.
As a lifelong musician, I adore the Philip Glass version of The Beauty and the Beast. He creates clear melodic styles for each of the main characters, so you don’t even need to fully understand the French to recognize when Belle is singing versus her wicked stepsisters Adelaide and Felicie. It feels natural to film and storytelling, as any good operatic structure should.
Even more incredible is the impact of the underscoring on the film. Glass makes wonderful use of movements to match the different chapters of the story. There are repeating, almost music box-like elements that lull you into a sense of security with the film. You trust where the story is going even if you’re not familiar with all the twists that Cocteau adds to the classic fairy tale. You’re entranced into that state of wonder Cocteau scribes on the chalkboard in the opening credits, fully accepting the “once upon a time” invitation to become a child again and believe that a young woman can fall in love with a beast and connect with her family through a magic mirror.
I could heap praise upon both versions of the film for thousands and thousands of words. Suffice it to say that the magic of a heavily theatrical cinematic adaptation of The Beauty and the Beast is complimented quite nicely by an operatic score synced to perfection some 50 years later.
The Beauty and the Beast is available to buy or rent on all digital platforms.
