the barn, a beam, a rope
by Douglas Messerli
Julien Duvivier and Jacques Feyder
(screenplay, based on the novel by Jules Renard), Julien Duvivier (director) Poil
de carotte (The Red Head) aka Carrot Top / 1925
Julien Duvivier (screenplay, based on the
novel by Jules Renard, and director) Poil de carotte (The Red Head) aka
Carrot Top / 1932
Based on the autobiographical fiction by Jules
Renard, the great French film director Julien Duvivier released two versions of
Poil de carotte (in English titled The Red Head and, more
appropriately, Carrot Top), a silent film in 1925 and a sound version in
1932. Although, generally speaking, the 1932 sound film is more successful, the
silent version in several respects is just as remarkable, particularly for its
German Expressionist-influenced images. I discuss both below simultaneously.
Let
me just begin by stating my position that neither of these works is either an
explicit or coded LGBTQ movie. The central figure in both works, the titular
carrot-top (André Heuzé in the silent film and Robert Lynen in the 1932 film)
being only of 12-years of age, is not yet old enough to have even fully dealt
with his gender let alone had time to dive into issues of sexuality. In both
instances, the young boy is aware enough of gender roles that he can create a
fantasy of marriage to Carrot Top’s (real name François Lepic) 5- or 6-year-old
female friend Mathilde; but in both the male “groom” is as decked out with more
flowers than the symbolic “bride” and in the later sound version he actually
wears a floral crown missing from the “bride,” costumes more clearly created by
the children themselves than in the earlier version. And throughout both films,
the young “redhead” boy is dressed in a kind of tunic that is closer to a
dress than a pair of boy’s pants. And in the 1932 film, the boy demonstrates
that he as yet no shame of nudity. These and other instances clue us in to the
fact that François is still of somewhat indeterminate gender, and has not even
begun to contemplate sexual matters.
In
the 1925 film, however, Mathilde’s mother strongly complains against the boy’s
marriage fantasies with her child, and one must admit, even if we understand
François’ innocence and motives, there is something rather perverse about his
childhood fantasy.
And
there is no movie that I’ve seen before this 1925 version of the film that more
clearly plays out the archetypal pattern of the marked outsider, portraying a
figure of différence that resonates with every queer story ever told. As
the youngest child in a family of three siblings, Carrot Top is marked out—in
this case by the supposedly red color of his hair, although in the 1932 version
his school master remarks that it is blond not red—for mockery, abuse, and
outright hatred,
These fantasies all reveal the difficulties of the “other,” the one, as
director Richard Oswald described it in his 1919 openly gay film, “different
from the others.” All are unloved and unhappy children desperately seeking the
love of some unknown being outside of the world in which they currently exist,
the very essence of the queer love story. It should come as no surprise that
these archetypical tales (along with other tales of exception and difference,
even as banal as “Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer” or as complex as The
Wizard of Oz) are cited as queer and gay myths and are embraced by LGBTQ
individuals such as mathematic genius Alan Turing, who described the Disney
version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs as being one of his favorite
movies.
Both films begin with brief scenes at the public boarding school where
François Lepic spends most the year. Such schools are pretty much a source of
misery for all children, heterosexual or budding homosexuals in both history
and literature, and this young boy’s experience doesn’t seem much different
from the others, particularly when one expresses, as François does, the truth
about one’s family life. He writes in his essay, “The family is a group of
people living under the same roof who cannot stand each other,” an aphorism
that might have found home in Oscar Wilde’s writings.
The
silent version also carves out a large portion of its longer viewing time to
show us what François’ brother Felix (Fabien Haziza) is also doing during his
year studying in the city. Felix, we learn, has been regularly attending a
local cabaret where he has fallen in love with a disreputable cigar-chomping
singer very much in the manner of the young son of Marcel L’Herbier’s The
Man of The Sea (1920). Felix attempts to lure her to his provincial home
town during his summer stay at home, the subplot spilling into the silent
version’s overall story in a way that I, along with most critics, feel does not
truly benefit the earlier film and which was removed by Duvivier from the
second film. But, as we shall see, it does provide us with a clearer
explanation of Felix’s motives and makes him even more unlikeable than in the
1932 version.
In any event, all three children, Felix, Carrot Top, and their sister Ernestine (Renée Jean and Simone Aubry) are forced to return to the family home which seems to be to none of their pleasures. On the very same day that Monsieur Lepic is off to pick them up at the station, he encounters the new maid, Annette (Lydia Zaréna and Christiane Dor) on her way to his home, having just been hired by Madame Lepic. In both movies the role Annette is crucial in that it is she who becomes closest to François, the only being who shows him love, and as an ally, speaks to the boy’s father about what is going on in his house regarding the mother’s abuse of her son.
Zaréna in the silent version is given a much larger role, replacing the
equally loving grandfather of the 1932 film, and becoming the messenger of the
boy’s possible attempt to kill himself to Monsieur Lepic. She is also permitted
a far greater amount of physical and emotional expression as she demonstrates
to Carrot Top the possibilities of love lying outside of his particular family
circle. In both cases, the boy reacts at moments negatively out of jealousy and
frustration for his own condition, but in the silent version she is allowed to
stroke him on occasion and even bring momentary joys to his face, while in the
later movie Dor is allowed less range as the wonderful actor Lynen, given a
voice to express his pain, mostly rejects physical expressions of love fearing
that the touch of a human hand might just as quickly turn into the thrashings
his mother and sometimes even his father regularly inflict upon him. In public
his mother often pretends love, stroking his face, while in the very next moment,
when once again alone with the boy, those same strokes turn into tools of anger
and violence. Dor, who accompanies him to his grandfather’s house, experiences
the boy at the
Far less dramatic but just as effective is the scene with his mother in
both versions of Poil de carotte where Carrot Top is told it is his turn
to accompany his father on a hunting trip. Overjoyed, the boy hugs his
standoffish father and literally somersaults his way back into change his
clothes for the trip. Annette, witnessing it all from the nearby window from
where she keeps watch, she observes his mother insisting he go to town for a
pitcher of cream. He begs her to let someone else fetch it, but she insists
that it is his responsibility. Totally dejected, when his father comes to
collect him, the boy has no choice but to say that he’s changed his mind, not
daring to admit it was his mother who enforced that decision for fear of
further punishment. His father, in turn, describes the boy as a wretched child
who can’t make up his mind what he wants. Once again, Annette and the viewer
know better, and in the second version she attempts to explain to Mr. Lepic
what has happened, without him fully comprehending the significance of her
comments.
The
1925 version comes to a close with a rather vaguely realized series of events
surrounding Lepic’s mayoral candidacy, a local fair, and the father’s discovery
of town gossip about both his sons, how the mother abuses the younger and how
Felix has been seen in town cavorting with what the local gossips describe as
an objectionable girl. It is Annette who finally warns him that she has learned
that her son intends to commit suicide.
All of this is far better handled, if more complexly, in the 1932
remake. In that film, François, having long battled with himself about suicide,
is surprised when his father suddenly confronts his mother about yet another
task she has assigned to boy to carry out and, even more astoundingly, invites
him to lunch with him on the day that it is certain he will be elected mayor.
He tells the boy to meet him at the main meeting room after the counting of the
votes. Even then, his mother getting wind the invitation, attempts to lock him
in his room. But her son escapes through a high window and makes his way into
town.
At
the actual counting, Mr. Lepic has also been asked to marry a couple the moment
after his election, which he proudly does. The boy is so lost in the crowd and
commotion of the successful election and the wedding, that he hasn’t even the
possibility of letting his father know of his arrival; and when the wedding
party and Lepic’s fellow electors all gather at the café across the street,
François is allowed only an instant to see his father, who tells him he’s too
busy to deal with him and sends him off.
Carrot Top now wanders off to find the proper way to do end his life,
stopping by the pond near his grandfather’s house to consider a Mouchette-like
drowning (the manner the unhappy young girl chose in Robert Bresson’s great
work of cinema). There is again meets up with little Mathilde, whom he tells
that he will be unable to marry her because he is now planning to kill himself.
In her youthful manner she attempts to dissuade him, but seeing that he’s
determined to go through with it, simply suggests that the pond is to dirty and
cold a place to die.
In
the 1932 film, Mathilde then enters the café, momentarily being greeted by the
grandfather upon whose lap she sits for a few moments, reporting François’
intentions to him, before she joins her mother. And it is the grandfather, in
what might almost be seen as a kind of rehabilitation for his inattentiveness,
who fights his way through the mayoral well-wishers to convey what’s happening
with Mr. Lepic.
Both films end almost conspiratorially, in the second as the two share a
drink near an inn where for the very first time in the film Lepic refers to
Carrot Top by his real name. When François tells him of his hatred for his
mother, Lepic explains that he too hates her. And that is part of the problem.
The boy was simply born to late, after their earlier love, and in revenge for
its absence she has taken out her anger of late-born son. With amazing
precociousness, François reasserts what parental-child relationships should
ideally entail, while his never has. It is a somewhat discomfortingly
misogynist scene, father and son sharing their hatred of the wife and mother.
And if one might believe that there are any psychological determinants in
homosexuality, we certainly might suspect that as the boy grows older, he will
surely find it difficult to trust or even fall in love with a woman,
particularly when M. Lepic now promises to show him love for the rest of his
life, promising to intervene if his mother ever again threatens him. This is
already a boy who has become devoted for his life to his father. And I can
easily imagine him, at a later date, ending up in Paris, like Georges ‘Jojo’
Castagnier in Duvivier’s Boulevard (1960), because his step-mother
despised him, a young boy who does indeed become involved with gay men.
Apparently, the real Carrot Top, Renard lived a relatively happy married
life, devoted to his children. But then as Oscar Wilde long argued, it is
always a mistake to conflate life and art.
Los Angeles, April 15, 2023
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (April
2023).
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