Sylvie et le fantôme (1946)
Directed by Claude Autant-Lara

Film Review

With Sylvie et le fantôme, director Claude Autant-Lara takes the classic coming-of-age concept and gives it a fresh and totally bizarre spin, the result being one of his weirdest and most beguiling films.  The first film that Autant-Lara made after the Occupation, it is based on a successful stage play by Alfred Adam (who is far better known as an actor than a playwright), first performed at the Théâtre de l'Atelier in Paris in 1943.  Not only does the film feature Odette Joyeux, the highly photogenic star of the three films that Autant-Lara made during the Occupation, it also avails itself of the services of three talented performers who would enjoy a meteoric rise to stardom over the following decades - François Périer, Jean Desailly and - most surprisingly - Jacques Tati.  Pierre Larquey's inclusion in the cast should come as absolutely no surprise, as he was in practically every French film of this era (implying he was either exceptionally energetic or had at least a dozen identical siblings).

Tati is an unlikely choice for the ghost of the handsome lover with whom the elfin Joyeux becomes besotted but his penchant for physical comedy was what won him the role and made him an indispensable addition to the cast.  In his youth (back in the 30s), Tati was famous for an act in which he mimed a range of sports, so he was well-suited for the non-speaking role of the lithe and acrobatic ghost.  Not long afterwards, Tati began his film career proper, directing L'École des facteurs (1947), the first in a series of idiosyncratic comedies that would earn him international acclaim and a secure place in film history.

It would be easy to dismiss Sylvie et le fantôme as gimmicky were it not for the fact that its principal gimmick - namely the titular ghost - is so brilliantly realised.  This involved the use of an old theatrical trick known as Pepper's Ghost, which dates back to the 16th century.  The technique requires the use of two sets positioned at right-angles to each other, one being the mirror image of the other.  In one set, Tati (as the ghost) performs his scenes alone, and these are reflected in a glass screen positioned at 45 degrees in front of the main set, creating the illusion of a ghost appearing amidst the 'flesh and blood' actors in the main set.  By adjusting the lighting in both sets, Tati's image can be made to appear and disappear.  The technique is ludicrously simple (no laborious post-production), yet what we see on the screen is simply amazing.

When it was first released, Sylvie et le fantôme was derided by the critics on both sides of the Atlantic for its whimsical (some might say idiotic) plot.  Perhaps if Autant-Lara had been brave enough to cast a younger actress than Joyeux in the lead role (i.e. one who actually looks as if she is 16, not early 20s-ish) the story might have had a tad more credibility.  It's hard to believe how anyone, even a gauche 16-year-old, can mistake a real ghost for what is obviously a man with a sheet over his head (at best, he would just about pass as a member of the Ku Klux Klan), and when three men start running about with sheets over their heads one's suspension of disbelief does tend to wane a little.  Taken too seriously, Sylvie et le fantôme soon becomes ridiculous, but if you embrace it in the spirit in which it was meant (pun intended) it becomes a fun romp - a film that literally basks in Jacques Tati's reflected glory.

Film Synopsis

Sylvie is an imaginative 16 year old girl who has fallen in love with a man in an old portrait - Alain de Francigny, her grandmother's lover, who died many years ago in a duel.  She is upset when her father is forced to sell the painting to allow them to go on living in their old château.  Amused by his daughter's fantasies, the Baron engages an actor to play the part of a ghost, to roam the castle on his daughter's birthday night.  Two younger men, who are both attracted to Sylvie, also agree to pretend to be ghosts, in the hope of gaining her affections.  Needless-to-say, the real ghost of Alain de Francigny is far from amused at this usurpation of his role...