MAGIRAMA
Magirama, Abel Gance’s final conceptual masterpiece: interview with Béatrice de Pastre
Cannes Classics celebrates Magirama (1956), Abel Gance’s last experimental work. This amazing, magical performance combines four short films using polyvision, a format developed by the filmmaker. Filmed, conceived, and edited with the Argentine Nelly Kaplan, Magirama is the culmination of almost 30 years of thought and research. Béatrice de Pastre, Deputy Director of Film Heritage at the CNC (French National Center of Cinema) tells us more.
What is the link between Napoléon (Napoleon) and Magirama, restored in 2024 and this year, respectively?
Magirama’s restoration was done at the same time as Napoléon (Napoleon), and followed that of J’accuse (J’accuse!), on a triple screen in 2017. Abel Gance reedited his sound film J’accuse (I Accuse) from 1937, which was itself a remake of the film by the same name from 1919, for three screens. This origin story showcases one of Gance’s principles of creation: repetition. The pacifist message from 1918 (at the end of a devastating conflict) is recycled in 1937 (as Europe prepares for a new war), and then again in 1956 (amidst the cold war and nuclear doom).
To emphasize this powerful idea of fundamental peace, Gance pioneers a new way of writing with Napoléon (Napoleon) in 1928: the triple screen or “polyvision” as he began calling it in 1956. This format allows him to combine three images, creating a tale that is no longer bound by a linear narrative. It immerses viewers in images surrounded by sounds.
Magirama is the culmination of what Gance sows in the final scene of Napoléon (Napoleon), recycling images from J’accuse (J’accuse!) and shots from Napoléon (Napoleon) and La Fin du monde (End of the World) to create a final reedited work.
How do you restore such an experimental film?
The main difficulty was the lack of source material to be able to properly reformat the layout of the three screens: which images appeared in the center, on the right, or on the left? Ultimately, we were guided by the work copies and the images themselves. Likewise, the soundtrack to Château de nuages was selected based on a viewer’s recollection from a screening at Studio 28, in 1956, who remembered music reminiscent of Debussy.
The main issue we’re faced with today, and which was already a problem for Gance in 1956, is finding three screens and three projectors to reproduce the format in all its glory. Ideally, each screen should have a nine-meter base, which is technically impossible today; so instead we “captured” the three images in one screen, allowing for only one device to project the film.
Is there a connection between the four shorts?
While Château de nuages and J’accuse (J’accuse!) share images, it seems to me that every film from Magirama explores its own dimension of the format. Nelly Kaplan offers a highly innovative narration for Auprès de ma blonde, which really impressed her surrealist artist friends. Fête foraine is pure sensational mayhem for the viewers, while Château de nuages, encourages us to enter a meditative state. Together, these three masterpieces lead to the ultimate experience provided by J’accuse (J’accuse!), which channels all three styles to deliver a phenomenal pacifist plea.
