CINEMA

Can the beauty of the soul overcome external ugliness?

Cyrano de Bergerac (1950)

Starring: Jose Ferrer (Cyrano) & Mala Powers (Roxane), with William Prince, as Christian. Produced by: Stanley Kramer Music by: Dimitri Tiomkin Original story by: Edmond Rostand (1897) Directed by: Michael Gordon Screenplay by: Carl Foreman

If there's one thing that has me miffed, it's those ridiculous academic critiques of this play. Yes, it's unrealistic, yes, it's energetic to the point of insanity, yes, the character of Cyrano is particularly vulnerable to the ridiculous Freudian analyses that Lit. professors are obsessed with. But the essence of this work, what makes it breathe, are the very qualities so mocked by elitists: its color, its flamboyance, and above all its wonderfully unashamed idealism.

First of all, this is entertaining reading at its best: a combination of witty repartee and laugh-out-loud humor, balanced with emotional depth that is subtle yet wrenching in its intensity. With just a few lines the scenes come alive, with characters whose brash gallantry is reminiscent of Dumas' Musketeers.

All this virtuoso treatment finds a focal point in the character of Cyrano, played magisterially by Ferrer, in one of the great performances of all time, and for which he richly deserved his 1950 Oscar. As most of our readers probably know, Cyrano de Bergerac is one of the greatest love stories ever told. Cyrano himself is a passionate man whose great white plume, his panache, is to make himself in all things admirable. It is his cape, his coat, his shield. For many, Cyrano's purity of purpose and unyielding honour serves as a reminder to a far more prosaic generation, and one starving for real heroes, that, perhaps, there once was a time when a person was judged by more than the weight of their gold purse. Cyrano de Bergerac is a wondrous play that never fails to stir even the hardest of hearts for it embodies the Quixotic ideal of struggling against impossible odds. Dealing with love, passion, anger, freedom, and pride, this story captures the essence of what it is to be human, and to feel.

Ferrer's Cyrano is at once comic and tragic: his biting wit provides a facade for a soul in torment, for his sensitivity to beauty makes his own ugliness that much more painful. Yet there is so much fire and pride in Cyrano that never once does he beg for our pity, and endures the pain of thwarted love with the same charisma and bravery with which he does battle. The contradiction between Cyrano as he is inside--a veritable furnace of eloquent passion--and his markedly ugly exterior, is his tragedy. Through the vehicle of this contradiction, Edmond Rostand explores the nature of love, particularly regarding how much of it is dependant upon exteriors.

With what is probably a puny budget by today's blockbuster extravaganzas, director Michael Gordon delivered, largely thanks to Ferrer' inspired incarnation of the fabled hero, a classic likely to stand the test of time for many years to come. In this reviewer's opinion it certainly had no trouble besting the lavish French remake (1990) with Gerard Depardieu in the lead, proof that Hollywood never lacked for artistic talent, just the integrity to put this criterion consistently ahead of the bottom line.

—David Montcalm