User Reviews

Carl Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc" is a film that feels light years ahead of its time. Lean and mean, focusing its entire narrative on the interrogation of Joan that inevitably lead to her execution by burning at the stake, the film is kinetic in ways that most films even now aren't. Composed almost completely of tight close ups, Dreyer and crew cut rapidly between disconcerting, asymmetrical shots, giving the film a breathless, anxious, nearly frenzied pace.

Maria Falconetti gives an almost unbelievably intense performance as the title heroine. Her performance, and the film in general, does get a bit monotonous -- it exists primarily of impassioned gazes into the middle distance, giant, tearing eyes opened wide, an expression of passionate, nearly demented religious fervor on her face. It's not a film that concerns itself with characters and plot, so we don't get to know Joan as a person. It's difficult to care for her particular plight and we instead feel compassion for her as one human being feeling compassion for another. For that reason, the film left me remembering its striking images and formal style more than any emotions I might have felt while watching it. But it's no less of a remarkable cinematic achievement for that.

Grade: A

If you'll pardon the rambling, here are my thoughts immediately after watching this on DVD an hour ago.......

THE STORY - Many of the times, while watching this for the first time, I thought this was almost the re-enactment of Jesus' last day, seeing the phony trial, the trumped-up charges He endured by legalistic, power-hungry religious leaders of the day who had no clue who God is, and then the tragic end to the central character. Apparently, there were a lot of similarities to Joan of Arc's last day and of Christ's day. However, here it's the Catholic leaders who are the 'bad guys' while in Jesus' time it was the Pharisees and the Sanhedrin. Also, with Joan's story here, she is portrayed far differently in her ordeal than Christ did, the latter taking everything in stride stoically while Joan, without any physical beating, still cried constantly and signed some paper in a moment of weakness (although she later recants that, which costs the woman her life.)

Anyway, about this film:

THE GOOD - Wow, what incredible direction and photography. Scene after scene is pretty amazing and especially so when you consider this was made about 80 years ago! I would like to see the same director and photographer doing work with today's technology.

The expressions on Maria Falconetti's face throughout the film are memorable. A sadder, more pained look on Joan of Arc - or anyone else's - I have not seen in a motion picture. She also must have set a record that still stands for the most tears shed by one person in a movie! The woman's eyes were like faucets.

All of the faces in here - and the film is mostly a series of facial closeups - are amazing and kudos to Criterion for making a DVD that showed these faces with a clear picture and amazing detail. Director Carl Theodor Dreyer's camera angles still look innovative today. He and Orson Welles seem to share the same love of this kind of photography. I found myself numerous times just shaking my head in admiration for how these characters were photographed.

Another big plus for this film was the addition of "The Voices of Light." They made the music score in here fantastic. I can't recall too many films in which I have been so impressed with a soundtrack. The DVD gives you the option of watching this film with or without that audio. I strongly recommend viewers to take the audio.

Finally, the story itself is memorable, with a powerful ending.

THE BAD - I have to make these comments to be fair and honest. It's not hard to understand why many people will find this film almost impossible to sit through, especially those with no emotional or spiritual involvement with the story. That is because it is extremely slow and repetitive. Shot-after-shot of just Falconetti agonizing or crying and weird-looking men staring at her. If you aren't a devotee of cinematography, this movie could be extremely boring after about 10 minutes.

As powerful as the story is, it isn't a movie I would recommend for most people. I think most folks - of any age, frankly - would be turned off after 20 minutes. I understand that. As mentioned, this is not an easy film to view. This might be the longest 80-minute movie you'll ever see, if you aren't into it.

OVERALL - Visually and audibly: an astounding movie and one I am glad to have finally watched. If I was wishing to get into the movie business and wanted to learn how to shoot films, this would be a film I would study numerous times. Otherwise, one viewing is plenty. I can only recommend this film to a very select audience.

Maria Falconetti is simply outstanding in this film; playing the eponymous character who claims she has seen and been sent by God, she delivers a transcendental performance that is overwhelmingly raw and visceral. Shot predominantly in close-ups, the tight framing restricts us to narrowly focus in on her state of fear and immerse us right into the emotional turmoil through which she is suffering. POV shots of the French clergyman ingeniously add to this effect as we experience the fear of the dire circumstances through Joan's eyes. And the fact that Falconetti never acted again only adds to the eeriness of her performance. With cinematography that was way ahead of its time and an incredible score to boot, this is simply a masterpiece of cinema. Far and away one of the greatest silent films ever conceived.

Carl Th. Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc was made, perhaps, years ahead of its time- my guess would be that if it wasn't burned after its initial release, it would've had as stunning an impact on the film world years down the line as Citizen Kane did. Though the use of close-ups and distorted angles were not completely new in this film, it felt like Dreyer was creating a new kind of cinema, one where reality, however cold and pitiful, was displayed with complete sincerity. There is also the editing (by Dreyer and Marguerite Beague), which has the timing that many directors/editors of the modern day could only hope to achieve (it has the influence of Eisenstein, only in a totally different historical context), and those moves with the camera by Rudolph Mate (who would go on to photograph Foreign Correspondent and Lady from Shanghai) that are precious- to call his work on the film extraordinary is an understatement.

And it was crucial for Dreyer to use the close-ups and tilted angles and shots where you only see the eyes in the bottom of the frame, and so forth- he's developing the perfect atmosphere in regards to a trial set in 15th century France. It's all those eyes, all those faces, holding all those stolid mindsets that send Joan to her fate. Pretty soon a viewer feels these presences from all these people, so strong and uncompromising, and Dreyer does a miraculous thing- he makes it so that we forget about the time and place, and all of our attention is thrown onto those eyes of Joan, loaded to brim with a sorrow for where she is, but an un-questionable faith in what she feels about God. I wondered at one point whether Dreyer was making as much a point on people's faiths and prejudices in the almighty, or just one on basic humanity.

There have been many before me who have praised Falconetti's performance to the heavens (Kael called it the finest performance in film), but in a way it almost can't be praised enough. What she achieves here is what Ebert must've felt watching Theron in the recent 'Monster'. I didn't even see her in a performance as Joan of Arc- I saw her as being the embodiment of it, as if Falconetti (with Dreyer's guidance) took Joan out of the pages of the trial transcript and her entire soul took over. There is something in an actor that has to be so compelling, so startling, and indeed so recognizable, that a person can feel empathy and/or sympathy for the person the actor's playing. All a viewer has to do is stare into Falconetti's eyes in any shot, close-up or not, and that viewer may get stirred to boiled-down emotion.

For me, it was almost TOO over-whelming an emotional experience- when Joan is about to get tortured, for example, I found myself completely lost from where I was watching the film, everything in my soul and being was with Joan in that chamber, and for a minute I broke out in tears. That's the kind of effect that Dreyer's craft and all the acting work (including Eugene Sylvain as the Bishop Cauchon, and of course Artaud as Jean) can have on a viewer. I'm not saying it has to, yet The Passion of Joan of Arc could- and should- be considered a milestone in cinematic tragedy, where the images that come streaming forth never leave a viewer, and the detail for time and place becomes just that, a detail for the main stage. Love Joan or hate her, this is for keeps.

What can one say about this work of art that has not been said many times before by those far better qualified to explain both it's importance and place as cinema and art? I shall not comment on the greatness of the film's technical achievements; the stunning cinematography, the production design, the brilliance of the screenplay based on actual transcripts from the trial, or the perfection of Mr. Dreyer's direction. The performance of Falconetti as Jeanne d' Arc has a profundity and depth far beyond my ability to illuminate. I suppose the best I can hope to do is to share my feelings, however inadequately expressed, of the effect it had on me. To say that it may be the greatest film ever made is to sound both obvious and trite. That a work of such beauty and simplicity, made seventy-six years ago can still have the power to move audiences in an era of multi-million dollar, hi-tech, bombastic over-wrought cinematic drivel is in itself a testament to the vision and genius of Carl Theodor Dreyer, Maria Falconetti and their collaborators. It is nourishment for those that hunger for something more in cinema, a feast for the soul. It is a reminder that film can indeed be art, and this film like all great works of art, lifts and transports us from the routine of our work-a-day lives to enable us, if only for a moment to experience the sublime. When viewing it we look at it as looking in a mirror. That is to say we look into ourselves. We question ourselves as to our own beliefs, or the lack thereof and the strength of spirit that enables an individual to endure the unendurable. Viewing it is a profound experience the nature of which for myself is transcendent rather than religious, because I am not in the least a religious person. Transcendent because it evokes emotions and thoughts that I cannot wholly account for, or adequately explain.

"La Passion of Jeanne d'Arc" is stark, radiant, exalted, simple, (but never simplistic), and ultimately sublime. The rest is silence.

It's easy to overlook this movie. For modern audience and especially my generation (I'm 21), this movie is just close-ups of a crying woman and grumpy old men. But of course that's like saying Mona Lisa is just a picture of a woman, or The Last Supper is dudes eating. If you experience it with open mind, The Passion of Joan of Arc will give you one of the most profound visions of devotion, faith and martyrdom.

I must confess, even I thought the praise of The Passion was too good to be true when I began to watch it. But when the film ended, I wasn't just impressed, I was completely devastated. The Passion of Joan of Arc is a downright amazing realization of Joan's last moments. There's not a hint of sentimentality, and still I was in tears. Yep. Call me a pansy, but this is one of the very few movies that had that impact on me.

I don't know what else to say about this movie, sorry. The Passion of Joan of Arc counts as the most upsetting movie experience I've ever had, but it's definitely a positive one. On the contrary to what the other commentators have said, you don't have to be religious to be receptive in front of this movie. Believe me, I'm a hardcore atheist. If you're going to see this film -- I sure hope you do -- make sure it's accompanied with the Voices of Light soundtrack, which doesn't just fit the film well, but is amazing as a standalone composition, too. I can guarantee you won't look cinema the same way again.

I saw this a few months ago on the big screen, just after Nosferatu, another silent classic. Both showings were supported by a live organ play, which has been composed directly for the movie, and which suited perfectly. I had seen Nosferatu before, but i didn´t know anything about `Jeanne`, and so i was in no way prepared for this overwhelming, soul-rapturing experience.

My eyes were immediately glued to the screen. Unfortunately i had missed the first minutes, so it started for me with the first (?) court scene. The camera wandered through the faces of the court members, circled and focussed on Jeanne´s face. So beautiful, naked, strong and defenseless! I could rave on the technical perfection of this film, it´s clever editing, innovative and gorgeous cinematography, proper historical settings and pure storytelling. Carl Theodor Dreyer created a masterpiece. But the most outstanding feature of this silent are the performances; Maria Falconetti delivers simply the best performance of all times, and i can´t remember of any ´corny` overacting, which distracts most silent movies from the modern viewer, even the accepted classics. `La passion de Jeanne d´Arc´ is purest cinematic art, timeless in every sense.

I saw this film for the very first time last week and was so tremendously captivated by it that I needed to share this rapture. The innovative camera-angles, the close-ups revealing pain and spirituality. It elevates the human condition and the Art of film. I would love to be able to go on into the whys or hows or technicalities. But my words couldn't do the film justice for the imagery still overwhelms me.

This film almost leads one to believe that sound betrays the emotion the eyes capture. Just as the blind develop hearing far better than the average, the deaf develop a keen sense of sight. I am convinced that a lack of dialogue forces us to read the language of the face and body, a verbage unmatched in beauty and nuance. Though the accompanying musical piece (be careful not to identify it as a score), so deliciously inspired by the film, enhances the visual playground; it is the actors' faces that comprise this tour de force. Ms. Falconetti shifts from worry and doubt to unabashed conviction in a single shot, giving the viewer the luck of seeing one's thoughts in progress. She needs no response to the interrogation, it's all in her face. Renee is not superficially beautiful and the lack of make-up only reinforces how bare Joan is, but it is the uncanny ability of an incomparable stage actor to be a window into the soul that makes her so stunning, for the soul we see is one we only wish to attain for ourselves. The Church sees what we see, and they respond just as clearly to her unspoken protest with vehement pomp. The cinematography is so astounding for its time no comment could ever do it justice. Though many comments can be made, and are, surrounding the inspiration and detail for the set, it is at its core an incredible gift from Dreyer to the actors meant to inspire. It plays little part in the film, but to pull an inconceivable last drop of reality from the actors. A testament I can imagine will never be matched to the incredible power of silence.

Technically interesting, but lacking in storyline - they could have built the tension much better, I think. Maybe it would work better if I cared about religion. Also the recently invented close-ups were taken a bit too far, as it was difficult to tell who was who with all the monk men looking so similar.

Still, some neat images in this one, and definitely an important work in the history of cinema. Recommended as a study of advances in early filmmaking.

A certain amount of credit must surely be paid to the director for the genius of 'La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc.' The daring camera angles, use of incessant close-ups and peculiar authenticity all may be attributed to Carl Th. Dryer. However, Renee Maria Falconetti is the reason this film indeed surpasses all attempts at reaching the Platonic form of brilliance. Her performance is breathtaking by all accounts. One can not help but remain mesmerized by her expressions. Yes Dryer's gift to us of so many wonderful close shots of Falconetti should be acknowledged. He must be praised for his relentless filming of scenes to produce the desired result. Yet to imagine anyone else in this timeless role (such as Lillian Gish who was said to have been considered) is to envision a less than perfect film. Unimpeded by the silent medium in which she worked, Falconetti's mere tilt of the head or gentle glance pierce the soul of the viewer. We see her speak in Jeanne's native tongue. We see her compelling portrayal of the anguish which the saint most certainly endured. It is almost as if we are watching what the director said he had found; the martyr's reincarnation! This actress presents to us her raw beauty unmarred by powders or makeup - thanks to a decision of Dryer. How bitter-sweet the fact that we have this once thought to be lost silent film and yet can not help now but to long for more Falconetti. And so we return to 'La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc' and with each of many tears and inaudible sighs marvel at the staggering accomplishment which is Renee Maria Falconetti's Jeanne.

One of the last great silent films made during the advent of sound, Carl-Theodor Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc is a haunting, riveting portrait of the historical martyr based on documentation from the original trial. Focusing primarily on the series of courtroom examinations that doomed the young warrior, the film gloriously employs vivid close-ups to accentuate the ordinariness (while at the same time exaggerating the most grotesque qualities) of Joan's inquisitors. Maria Falconetti is unforgettable as Joan, perfectly distilling the pain, terror, and saintliness required by what is probably one of the most demanding roles an actor could attempt. The consequence of Joan's conviction -- her burning at the stake -- allows Dreyer to hammer home his exquisite visual motif balancing erotic corporeality with transcendent spirituality.

I'm not sure what's more overwhelming in this film: the incredible cinematography, the phenomenal acting, the stupendous soundtrack, the fact it was made in 1928 and has stood the test of time so well or the despicable, unspeakable, hideous evil perpetrated by those in authority in the name of?

This is the most fabulous movie I have ever seen.I like old and silent movies, but I was completely blown away with this movie. It is unlike any that you have ever seen.Joan's acting is the BEST I have ever seen. It is so superior to anything being made today. One does not need special effects and computers to make a great movie.And if any movie deserves that title this one does.I couldn't praise it enough. The direction and camera work is perfection. The way it is filmed with mostly head shots and faces you would think it would be boring.But it is the most alive movie I have ever seen and probably ever made.You cannot take your eyes off of Joan. She is mesmerizing.

The simplicity of the sets in this film are absolutely breathtaking. It is a film that captures the imagination not so much with what it shows as what it doesn't show.

This film is truly a "passion." Maria Falconetti expresses the pain and the anguish of a person who truly is being persecuted. Most of her shots are simply face or head-and-shoulder shots. Perhaps it is a reality of silent films that makes the images all the more compelling. Still, one can't help but wonder whether movies wouldn't be better today if the example set by this film and others like it were not followed.

Maria Falconetti is stunning. One wonders why this extraordinary talent is not more widely known.

I simply agree that this is one of cinemas true masterpieces, I'm with those who consider it one of if not the greatest film.

Two details that I always loved; when Joan sits in her cell taking comfort by staring at the image of the cross formed by the windowpane, then the priest who pretends to befriend her but intends to betray her walks in and his shadow covers the image of the cross - wow, is there a more haunting or effective use of imagery in all of film?

Also, I appreciated how at the end when she was about to be killed the same priest looked down on her, unseen, and bowed and shook his head with an expression of true sorrow. I think that was such a profound scene, showing that, though not exactly one of the good guys, he didn't really want her to die, he respected her strength and faith, it showed he was human - I thought that was an amazing, great touch.

Also I'd like to mention Richard Einhorn's inspirational soundtrack that matches the film so incredibly well that I can't imagine one without the other. I'd love to shake his hand and simply say 'Thank you! ...you lucky dog!" ;) ... to now and onward be associated with and part of this great film. First time I watched the film, the style of the soundtrack struck me, a new sound, but I was engrossed in the film to think much about it. Second time I watched it, the moment the music started I began to cry, to my surprise! It had left such an affect on me the first time, I didn't realize!

Dreyer's masterpiece is also Falconetti's masterpiece and the most powerful film role by any woman ever. Critics have said it for years and anyone who sees the film will know why. See it and it will remain with you forever. I saw it over thirty years ago and have never seen another actress come close to this role.

Carl Dreyer is one of the first and true masters of the art. His direction is always exceptionally controlled and crafted and for me this film encapsulates succinctly his dual expressionistic and formalistic approach to cinema. Although Dreyer succeeds in creating an extremely credible depiction of the trial and tribulation of Joan of Arc, he knew the filmic medium was not, and never could be, knowledge, fact or reality, and so he presents experience, truth and authenticity.

The film can be argued to be entirely shot from the mind's-eye view of Joan in relation to her locality to give the impression that we, as Roger Ebert said, are not watching a film but in fact watching "fragments from Joan's own experience". Hence, the reason why everything is filmed in either, close-ups or medium shots, the reason why there are no establishing shots and very few visual linkages. Filming in this way also created the intended affect of overwhelming claustrophobia and discomfort for the audience- a mediation of persecution one could say.

A lot has been said on Dreyer's inspirational use of the facial close-up in this film. His attention to the details on his performers faces, such as lines, warts, freckles, sweat and hair, and even on two occasions a fly, are used as revelations to their character and personality. The insignificant is made significant. Their faces are filmed in such a purist, "microscopic" fashion (no make-up was permitted by Dreyer) that their features and expressions convey a deeper more profound understanding of their emotions and thinking than words ever could. Renee Falconetti's face is also almost always seen in isolated shots and often filmed from a height thus accentuating her spiritual solitude and physical defencelessness. In contrast the trial judges and their faces are often shot from below, accentuating their threat to Joan and their dominance over her. Also her face is never in shadow and often captured in grey whereas the judges are always shot in shadow and have a more defined black and white composure, emblematic I believe of their inner good and bad.

The acting is superlative undoubtedly helped though by Dreyer's cruel and unrelenting treatment of his actors. Dreyer became a notoriously demanding and dictatorial director after this film. He reportedly drove its star Falconetti into a mental breakdown in order to get the right emotional intensity he desired for the film. His pursuit for total realism, or to be more exact total authenticity, knew no bounds. The scene were Joan suffers a bloodletting was in fact real, albeit from a stand-ins arm. Falconetti never made another film again, yet her performance, I among others, deem as being arguably the finest ever filmed.

Everything about this film is manipulated to convey the mind-set of Joan, her disturbed emotions and confused thinking, as well as her physical vulnerability and spiritual purity. Also anything that is not important to the conveyance of Joan's condition and situation is not included, hence the massive and very expensive set that was built but very little of it used. All the images presented conceivably convey what she could have seen and the way she might have seen it. Hence, the reason I believe for the upside down and backward shot of the English soldiers entering the gates of the castle, possibly a symbolic reference to St. Peter being crucified upside down, as allegorical parallels can be drawn with the historical story of Joan and the Biblical one of St Peter. Also, the swinging camera that makes the tower appear to be moving while she is burning is I believe a subjective representation of Joan's mental and physical suffering and the fact that she is about to depart from the earth. Either way these are certainly not just stylistic flourishes. The angular composition of the trial judges in relation to Joan and her relation to them, the off-kilter framing showing sometimes only half a head or at least only the head, and the fact that the judges are filmed moving in to and out of the frame only enhance capturing Joan's mental state of mind and her sincerity and honesty in the face of her Pietistic and duplicitous accusers. Furthermore, the weird and bizarre set designs from Hermann Warm, famous for his expressionist sets for The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, only add to the disillusioning and disturbing overall effect for the viewer.

The themes of this film are also present in many of Dreyer's other works, namely his fascination with the incompatibility of institutionalised religion and individual faith, the physical dominance of the male over the female (somewhat dated now), and the power of the human soul over earthly ambitions and corruption. These themes appear to be of personal significance to Dreyer in nearly all his films. There is humanity and a desire to create sympathy, and not indifference, towards all his characters in his films.

The Passion of Joan of Arc is an aesthetically austere yet serenely beautiful, psychologically uncompromising yet spiritually moving piece of work. The 15 hundred cuts and the way the film is structured, in clearly defined chapters, and, as already discussed, the way it is shot in close locality to Joan and always in relation to her immediate surroundings, gives the deceptive impression of simplicity and naturalness, whereas in fact the film is highly sophisticated and stylised. It also makes what Jean Cocteau said about the film even more true. That was, that it played like "an historical document from an era in which cinema didn't exist".

Also, Richard Einhorn's 'Voices Of Light' musical score, first presented with the film in 1995, is an undeniably creative and truly inspired piece of work which adds to the intensely emotional, powerful and hypnotically engaging visuals of the film.

With Danish director, Carl Dreyer clearly going against the grain here in direct defiance of glamour and beauty - I'd say that as a perceptive film-maker - He was also something of a sadist to deliberately drag his audience through such an unpleasant religious-based hell as this.

I mean - What an absolutely damning statement about the hypocrisy of Christianity this film's story inevitably made.

Now 90 years old - This hideously bleak freakshow of stark, barren sets and unflattering close-ups sort of reminded me (in an odd way) of David Lynch's "Eraserhead".

For me - The undeniably best moment in this truly unpleasant, yet strangely compelling, cinematic experience was, of course, Joan's tear-filled head-shaving scene.

I think it's interesting to note that actress, Renee Falconetti (who played the Joan character) said that she never understood all of the positive reaction to her performance.

*Note: This a review of the Criterion Edition DVD with the "Voices of Light" accompaniment.

Over the decades Dreyer's film was a victim of religious and politic censors, two fires that destroyed valuable prints, unauthorized cuts, and zealous editors working against his wishes to modernize the film. An original, uncensored cut was found miraculously in a Norwegian hospital for the mentally ill (ironic?) in 1981 and fully restored for the Criterion Collection. Famed composer Richard Einhorn created his libretto, "Voices of Light", in response to his own experiences viewing the film and researching the history of Joan of Arc. The film can be viewed with or without the accompaniment, though I can't imagine Dreyer would've objected as Einhorn with great care honored the spirit of the film and arguably of Saint Joan with his compositions.

Carl Dreyer's silent film, "The Passion of Joan of Arc", is a shocking example of the potential of film as art. No amount of scholarly critique can account for the raw power in viewing the film. It's one of those rare experiences that can only be seen to be understood. Dreyer's meticulously crafted aesthetics (the film is almost entirely composed of close-ups of the actors' faces) are perfectly married to the gut wrenching performance of Maria Falconetti (a theater star who never acted in another film) in the lead role. I think Dreyer was most accurate in describing her performance as nothing short of "the martyr's reincarnation." One need not be religious to understand what is meant or to feel for Joan as portrayed so humanely and exquisitely by Falconetti. Her face is beyond the realm of haunting, and Dreyer seers it into the audience's memory along with other stunning imagery like a window frame's shadow turning into a cross on the floor, worms crawling through a skull unearthed from a freshly dug grave, or a bored executioner barely able to hold up his head in the company of his torture devices. And then there's the burning at the stake and the brutal suppression of the peasant riot--unimaginable horrors rendered so beautifully and hyper realized onto a series of moving images projected onto a blank screen.

The genius of Dreyer's visuals and Falconetti's performance is that they create a deep psychological complexity that can engage a modern viewer on multiple levels. In their bold suggestions and through the artistic integrity of their respective crafts, Dreyer and Falconetti leave it to their audience (weather it be a French nation still celebrating and mythologizing their 15th century hero Joan a mere eight years after her canonization in 1920 or a more skeptical 21st scholar studying the history of film) to decide the veracity of Joan's convictions. Was Joan truly a mystic, a martyr, a saint? Or was she simply mad and the unfortunate victim of the time period in which she lived and died? Either way, she is presented here as human. And in relating to her, one thing is for sure: the mysticism of film was realized by the Dane Carl Dreyer and Maria Falconetti in the year 1928 with "The Passion of Joan of Arc."

This movie, restored for the present day, is visually appealing to the modern viewer. The portrayal of Joan with bright, open eyes stirs up a variety of feelings. It also gives off the vibe of mystique and wisdom well beyond her years, a girl ground in her conviction, always cornered by dark forces in the room, yet remains a light.

It is rather confusing with no back-story,as not everyone grantedly knows the story of Joan of Arc. But like any passion play, the purpose is not so much the circumstances to the setting, but the actions and reactions of the people in the moment.

I found the film very ahead of its time in many aspects. Then dark tone in soon time became the staple of this director. The imagery of death and torture, though not graphic, seems graphic, and gives an illusion of terror in a way that may have seemed taboo in the more conservative 30's,40's, and 50's film making.

The age old battle of clericalism vs. authentic faith and the centuries old account of Joan of Arc, are told through this near-90 year old movie that has a very modern feel. It has a timeless quality rare for an old movie.

I do not think it ranks as high as the historians and students of film proclaim it. But is a must-must-see for any appreciator of film and arts.

One could say that this film functions as a sort of 'rite of passage' for art film aficionados. As they say, 'If you can make it through this, you can make it through anything.' However, "Jeanne d'Arc" does not function as an overall great film in its own right, at least in my opinion.

Honestly speaking, I would have found it nearly impossible to tell whether or not this was a so-called 'great film' had I not seen it on '100-best' movie lists. Certainly, I admire the creative camera angles and other directorial achievements of the film -- in this sense, it is somewhat interesting. However, no one, not even the most pretentious film snob should claim this film is interesting in terms of 'entertainment value.'

Now, don't misunderstand me. Great works of art do not 'have' to be entertaining; but, all great works of art are 'fun' for one reason or another. I will explain.

First of all, this, of course, depends on one's definition of 'fun.' The most basic, fundamental definition of fun -- mindless amusement -- is not that to which I am referring, though some great films do have this sort of appeal. (All works of art should make their audience think). Rather, the kind of fun I'm referring to is best described as a feast for the senses. One reason why I particularly love "Citizen Kane" and view it as my ideal 'great film' is because, if one engages every part of their being as they watch the film, the film will open itself up to them. It comes at its audience from many angles: it is an absolutely hilarious film, a dark film, a frighteningly ambiguous film, etc., depending on the perspective of the viewer.

The problem that great films often pose to their audience is that they first REQUIRE that the audience think -- even be willing to suffer -- before they begin to give back in their feasting of the senses. Truly great films give back on one's investment of focus, engagement, and meditation on the film. I just don't believe that "Jeanne d'Arc" gives back enough. I can only take so much of Maria Falconetti's exalted expressions before my sense of logic tells me, "Okay, now! That's enough! I get the idea!" I feel like nearly half the film is spent staring into her pupils. To some, this might mark greatness; and yes, I admit that it makes the viewer think. But to me, it does not make the film watchable; and ultimately, I do not believe it pays off.

These are my thoughts about the film. Sadly, I was expecting to enjoy it. I was ready for another feast of the senses, to have some fun, like with so many other great films; but sadly, this film could serve only as punishment to a sort of 'frenemie,' someone I am trying to wear out or impress via my film knowledge. This is not my version of a great film and it's one of the longest 90 minutes I've ever spent in front of a screen. (2/5)