Silent film review: La Roue


On September 28 I saw a presentation of Abel Gance’s 1923 silent film, La Roue, in its newly restored version, nearly seven hours long. Jeff Rapsis provided live accompaniment for the whole thing at the Brattle Cinema, and he made it to the end in fine form. Not a lot of people have seen the movie, especially in its full-length form, so I should say a few words on it even though I don’t often write movie reviews.

Gance is best known for Napoleon, another silent film of astonishing length. La Roue is divided into four parts or “epoques,” so perhaps the original idea was to present it in four sessions. It was presented in Cambridge with short intermissions after the first and third parts, and a longer break to eat after the second part. The focus is mainly on three characters, yet the movie doesn’t drag. It’s just depressing as hell. It starts with a train wreck, spectacularly presented for the time, and things just get worse from there. There is a certain amount of consolation at the end.

The idea of “the wheel” is that the characters are driven by the wheel of fate and have no control over their destiny. That kind of story has little appeal to me. Still, it’s well presented, and the quality of the restoration is impressive on the big screen. It originally had a score by Arthur Honegger for an orchestra to play at showings, but it’s been mostly lost. Rapsis provided improvised music on a keyboard, as he always does.

The story concerns a railroad engineer named Sisif who adopts a little girl orphaned in a train wreck. He never tells Norma or his son Elie that she isn’t his biological daughter. When she grows up, he finds himself “in love” with her; a more accurate term would be “obsessed.” His passion drives him to drink and to attempt suicide. Even after Norma marries the rich de Hersan, Elie follows the same path. Nothing good comes of it.

At first de Hersan seems like quite a decent person, loving Norma and knowing it’s important to get her away from Sisif. She keeps saying she can’t love him, giving the impression she isn’t even trying to meet him halfway. Later on he’s suddenly revealed as a brute. With so much time for characterization, the movie could have done a better job bringing out their relationship.

The film impressed me technically. Here I’m getting into dangerous ground; when I mention specific innovations, somebody with more expertise may tell me, “Hey, Griffith did all those things years earlier!” But for what it’s worth, the techniques in this movie include panning, extreme close-ups, double exposures to indicate thoughts and memories, extensive location shooting in the mountains and on railroads, rapid cuts, scene tinting, and spot color. Some of those had been around since Méliès, but they’re far more refined in La Roue.

It’s an experience I’m glad I had, though I wouldn’t be inclined to repeat it. I might well be up for a complete showing of Napoleon.

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