The Christmas Dream Is Frenetic yet Serene
Note: This is the seventh in a series of historical/critical essays examining the best in film from each year. Essentially, I am watching films from the beginning of cinematic history that interest me and/or hold some critical or cultural impact. My personal, living list of favorites is being created at Mubi, showcasing five films per year. All this being explained, what follows is an examination of my second favorite 1900 film, THE CHRISTMAS DREAM, directed by Georges Méliès.
Quite honestly, my favorite 1900 films are not incredibly deep pieces of cinema that represent incredible storytelling or technical innovations, perhaps with the exception of JOAN OF ARC. Then again, perhaps there isn’t much from 1900 that would hold up as “deep” or innovative through a modern lens, in spite of the great leaps that were being made in the industry every year. Nevertheless, all of my favorites share an otherworldly sense of magic, a theme that permeates my reasons for placing my favorite early films at the top of their respective yearly lists. Georges Méliès did magic better than anyone at the time, so it’s no surprise that I enjoyed his magical féerie THE CHRISTMAS DREAM (Rêve de Noël) so much.
THE CHRISTMAS DREAM was part of a trend in film that has sustained to this day: the incredibly broad and popular Christmas film genre. In the early 1900s, Christmas movies were being churned out pretty regularly, perhaps more so than the next couple decades. Of course, the limitations of film made this churn pretty sustainable for a time; features had not yet emerged on the scene, so filmmakers could experiment with all kinds of ideas that may not hold a longer tale, and produce and release films much more quickly. And Christmas served as a relatable, popular backdrop for much of the Western world that was making and seeing films. The Christmas “arc” of peace and family served as a ready-made template for short, feel-good stories that could co-opt more thorough narratives and themes and put them to impressive visuals. And that’s exactly what Méliès did.
THE CHRISTMAS DREAM isn’t based on any one story, although it may have been inspired by a Paris stage production of the late 1890s. Still, this is a story you’ve seen before. Children sleep and dream about angels, beggars given places at the table, and impressive church bells ringing goodwill and peace to a village blanketed under a comforting and magical blanket of snow. There isn’t any one plot through line to the 4-minute picture, other than the frame narrative of the children dreaming the events of the movie, so the brief bouts of action feel narrow and strange. But that actually works to the film’s benefit. Whether Méliès intended it or not, THE CHRISTMAS DREAM perfectly captures the Christmas spirit almost with its structure alone.
Of course, the visuals, goings-on, and several Christian motifs make it very clear the film is about Christmas, but its technical execution deliver a more subtle message about the nature of the holiday. Once the film gets past its slow-paced, relatively relaxed opening depicting children going to sleep, it dissolves into a frantic, energetic dance. Another dissolve later, and we are treated to a short, yet calm, shot of angels delivering presents down a chimney, with a measured sureness that stands apart from the preceding scene. And so it goes, with a transition into a scene showing a group of boys quickly ringing a bell and parishioners entering the church with a flurry of snow and coats, then another dissolve into a particularly serene long shot of a bell ringing, with minimal interference from human interaction. The film cuts between frenetic, relatively complicated bits of action and serene, simple shots that allows for the catching a breath.
And Christmas follows this same pattern. It’s made up of overwhelming examples of exertion and joy (or frustration, let’s be honest), and quick, relaxing, and recharging gasps of fresh air sandwiched in between. It’s an elegant construction that, as I mentioned, Méliès may have never intended, but it’s what I got out of the film.
Thankfully, the elements of the film Méliès definitely intended to impress had an effect on me as well. The féerie is defined by extravagant, fantastical sets, and Méliès does not disappoint with THE CHRISTMAS DREAM. Still, in spite of the angels and strange rabbit figures, it’s one of Méliès’ more muted fantasies, grounded in a close approximation of our reality as it is. Nevertheless, the sets are beautiful and evocative, brilliantly demonstrating a sense of depth that isn’t really there, as usual. Ultimately, THE CHRISTMAS DREAM isn’t one of the landmark Méliès films, but it’s one of the most comforting and entertaining, especially considering his body of work by 1900.
Make sure to catch up on and keep up with all of my essays on my favorite films here.
