5/5 stars

It is hard to understand many European directors abilities (Riefenstahl, Hitchcock, Renoir) without looking straight into the heart of The Passion of Joan of Arc.  The camera slides and tilts, the editing is rapid and unpredictable, both leaving behind a modern treasure to digest with your concentration focused on how truly revolutionary this type of cinema was at the time of its release.  Director Carl Theodor Dreyer (not French) is responsible for the portrayal of Joan of Arc as a martyr.  This fact resonates throughout the film; Joan may be mistaken in her transmission with God, but she does not deserve to die.

The camera is close on Renée Jeanne Falconetti’s face for most of the film.  She portrays Joan’s sense of confusion and self-doubt with punctilious grace.  She then ventures into uncharted theological territory under the agonizing scrutiny of the English judges and is consequently charged with blasphemy.  The feminist themes are ripe.  Joan wears males clothing and refuses to change until France is victorious.  All of the judges are men, generating an atmosphere where locating femininity within Joan becomes one of our avenues for inquiry if not deeper discomfort.  This blind brutality towards Joan could have been eased if she simply fell in line with basic social conventions.  Instead, her punishment is multiplied exposing a sinister desire for blood.

In tandem with a male dominated justice, there are hidden allies of Joan who offer her the sacrament, which is withheld by those who believe she does not deserve it.  In these moments, the films subversive, even protestant, message rings.  Salvation does not lie in the hands of the authority of man, but in the heavenly power beyond earth.  For Joan, this power was called her once, was silent, and comes through the flames as they lap the stake.

Lenhardt Stevens