User Reviews

This excellent documentary encompasses the life and films of Georges Méliès. I have seen many halfhearted attempts at documenting filmmakers' lives on film, so this was a pleasant surprise. Méliès took his enthusiasm and magic from his Robert Houdin Theatre and projected it onto the silver screen--films full of trick shots and wacky humour. Director Jacques Meny's documentary displays all the zest of a Méliès short film.

Méliès was more consistent and consistently entertaining than his contemporary filmmakers. Nevertheless, that consistency would be his downfall, as others surpassed his theatrical style and developed continuity editing and used natural settings, as well as more adroit business tactics and larger outpouring of product. At once, Méliès was atop the cinema world, yet would end up burning his films.

Meny looks at Méliès from various angles: discussing his life, his film-making, his films and the world that influenced him. Various techniques are used to tell the story: film clips, photographs and artwork, interviews, reenactments and first-person narration. The most impressive are the use of a miniature reconstruction of Méliès's studio and demonstrations of how he did the trick shots and other special effects. Yet, they made the mistake of placing the English voiceovers on top of the muffled original French in the translated version. Either use subtitles or rid the original language completely for the voiceovers.

The documentary is not strictly chronological. There is no scene-by-scene dissection of "A Trip to the Moon" here, or just boring talking heads; the focus is on the enthusiasm, the magic, of Méliès via the enthusiasm of his admirers. With any other early filmmaker--the Lumiére brothers, Edwin S. Porter, D.W. Griffith--such emotional appeals would perhaps be sappy. Méliès, however, was so vivacious that here they serve harmony and poignancy.

If there's anyone who deserves the title, Father of Cinema, it's Georges Melies. He's responsible for putting fantasy on screen through animation, special effects, background drawings, and color tinting. He's even a pioneer of commercials and product placements! I saw this documentary, along with a Melies' fifteen shorts compilation called Melies' Magic Show, on an Arte Video DVD collection called Melies the Magician. His works from the late 19th century to the first decade of the 20th can still make you marvel at the craftsmanship of a theatrical magician conquering cinema. I wanted to see more of the color-tinted clips that weren't showcased on Melies' Magic Show as well as more of the animated backgrounds that astounded me with their innovations. There's also an interesting sidelight of Melies' brother Gaston's dealings with the Edison Trust Company in the U. S. that contributed to Georges decline. While a little long, The Magic of Melies tells you all you would want to know about the pioneering filmmaker's life and work. I most recommend you seek this one out!

It is extremely rare for a film or television biography, even at its best, to be nothing more than impressionistic. This film is remarkable not for its own filmic qualities (although they are nonetheless most respectable) but for its wealth of information, impeccably presented and for its honesty ans accuracy as a work of scholarship that, for all that, is so cleverly organised and sensitively edited that it remains of absorbing interest for the most casual viewer. One very small point but an indicative one. The documentary like any biography (filmed or written, popular or academic) is parti pris to some extent in favour of its subject, especially as it involves the Méliès family who have been so active in promoting the memory and reputation of their remarkable ancestor. In spite of that, whenever a statement is made, usually by Méliès himself (whose own autobiography is very skilfully used) that might be a shade exaggerated, the narration very csrefully chooses its words, so as not on the one hand to disrespect Méliès or his (unfailingly intelligent)commentary but, at the same time, to admit a certain scepticism where appropriate.

It is rarissime for a film or television biography to be almost equally acceptable to the ordinary viewer and to the specialist in the field (which is my own case) and to have a good deal to offer to both. I must confess I expected a hagiography an a repetition of all the usual clichés concerning Méliès and was astonished to find that it virtually never erred in either of these respects.

It is a piece of work of the highest quality that does justice superbly to a man who remains one of the most important figures in the history of cinema.