The Blue Bird (1918)

Originally posted to Facebook on 11/4/2016

The Blue Bird was our final film from 1918, and perhaps the strangest feature we’ve seen to date. It was directed by Maurice Tourneur, who continued directing well into the 1940s, and who was the father of Jacques Tourneur -- also the director of some great films that we may get to see someday. This film is based on a play, and begins naturalistically enough with a young brother and sister living in a modest house with their mother and father. They are contrasted with a poorer family living next door, and with a rich family as their other neighbor. One of the early moments when the film starts to take a turn from realism is when they peer out the window at their rich neighbor’s house, the shades of which are drawn, but upon which you can see artificially jet-black silhouettes of party-goers enjoying themselves. However the fantasy begins in earnest once the children fall asleep. Then they are visited by a fairy, who brings the spirits of various household items such as fire and sugar and bread to life. All of these, as well as the children and their cat and dog (now played by human actors), are sent on a mission to find the bluebird of happiness. This search takes place on vast fanciful sets, using a variety of special effects as well as costuming and camera-work to convey a strange hallucinatory state. At one point they visit their dead grandmother and grandfather, as well as their various dead siblings. The latter caused some comment from Ben and Alli -- mostly because the dead siblings numbered at least half-a-dozen. I explained that child mortality rates during the time portrayed -- which was not entirely clear -- were quite high. Still, a survival rate of two eighths did seem as if it might reflect some questionable parenting. It was interesting to see a special-effects-laden film like this from 1918, recalling some of the tricks of Méliès so long after they’d gone out of style. But while Méliès’ films were mostly jokey and playful, this film was more odd and dreamlike, even melancholy. It was very unusual, and, to the extent that there is any grain of truth to the idea that American films tend more towards naturalism than European films, it is perhaps even more unusual that this was an American film made in New Jersey. (It is true, though, that the author of the play and the director were Belgian and French, respectively.)

There was another movie version of the play made in 1940, starring Shirley Temple, and it is probably the more famous version, though I have never seen it. (Bianca, surprisingly, has.) Maybe when 1940 rolls around we’ll see it for comparison’s sake.

Next week, however, we watch our first film from 1919, and our third directed by Cecil B. DeMille: Male and Female. We are nearing the end of our films from the teens, which was the first decade that feature films were common. Short films were still a major part of the movie industry at this time, though, and stayed that way for many years. Recently we’ve basically stopped watching shorts in favor of features, and in order to correct that I’ve added a couple of weeks of short films before we dive into the 1920s. I’ve added those to the list, as well as the list of films planned for 1920, which should take us into the new year. For 1920, I’ve again broken my pledge of four films per year, and included five, mostly because they are all films I’d like to see or that I’d like the kids to see. The list, as always, is here: https://bit.ly/2lZtfmT