20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA (FRANCE/1907/GEORGES MÉLIÈS)

Fantasy cinema will always trace its roots back to early special effects wizard Georges Méliès, whose works still have relevance in some circles today. His best known works often used Jules Verne’s adventure stories as a template, embellishing them with appropriately surreal visuals, and most if not all of these projects were shot in a customised warehouse. 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea is no exception, taking as its basis one of Verne’s most adapted works. The U.S. government sends a team of scientists to investigate a spate of sunken ships. The mission uncovers a world of underwater marvels, but as the men entertain themselves with their new environment, they fall prey to its unforeseen dangers.

Without the luxury of time, any retelling of a Verne tale is a bit abrupt and doesn’t have the draw that the books do. Accepting time as a limitation, Méliès uses his imagination to create a visually active backdrop evocative of a thriving submarine habitat. As in many of Méliès’ films, the fantastical aspects of the story are helped along by a bevy of dancing girls, and their constant movements against a psychedelic background make for a hypnotic effect. The film is bookended by scenes which explain the purpose and outcome of the characters as in the book, but one feels that Captain Nemo should have featured more. It might not measure up to later feature-length adaptations, but Méliès’ film is an entertaining, if slightly too brief jaunt. Look out for the menacing giant crab.

CUSTODY OF THE CHILD (FRANCE/1909/LOUIS FEUILLADE)

We begin this early Louis Feuillade drama at the end of a custodial hearing. Members of the jury leave the courthouse as the child in question sits outside being comforted by the mother who has lost legal guardianship of him. As he is literally torn from his mother’s arms, it becomes clear how strong a relationship the two share. Now privileged in his new home, he sits alone, bored by every possible distraction. As a treat, his father takes him to see his grandmother, but the timing couldn’t be more inopportune as the boy’s mother just happens to be visiting at the same time. Mother takes advantage of the situation, sneaking her son back to her house where she works full-time as a seamstress. Meanwhile, father reports the case to the police, but the officious language of the authorities seems to be no match for the heartfelt pleas of a young child.

From the title alone (the French title uses the word ‘possession’ for custody), it is clear that Feuillade wants us to accept the incredulity of the son’s status as a mere legal entity. The child is bounced from parent to parent as if no-one is concerned for the child’s emotional needs. On the minus side, the film often becomes farcical under its technical constraints. When the police come knocking on the mother’s door, her solution is to hide her son under a small table already in frame. On the whole, a touching story, but not a memorable film.

THE MERRY FROLICS OF SATAN (FRANCE/1906/GEORGES MÉLIÈS)

In contrast with some of Georges Méliès’ better known works, the fantasy world in The Merry Frolics Of Satan is one of two realities presented in the film, and is ultimately the more dangerous. As in his classics A Trip To The Moon and The Impossible Voyage, it concerns a phantasmagorical expedition which goes awry, but this film takes a far darker turn. A gullible English engineer called William Crackford is drawn into a Faustian scenario when his insatiable curiosity leads him to make a critical deal with a suspicious wizard. His side of the exchange gives him and his friend the opportunity to travel in an extraordinary train, the carriages of which form spontaneously from nearby furniture. But not long after the train sets out on its journey with a group of anonymous passengers in tow, disaster strikes in the form of a collapsed bridge, with Crackford and the wizard as the only survivors. Shortly after, the two embark upon another journey in a macabre coach made from comets and stars, and pulled by a skeletal horse. The revelation that the wizard is in fact the devil comes far too late for Crackford as the torrid trip deteriorates fatally, with a finale that is both comical and macabre.

Méliès abandons the frivolity of his earlier shorts, constructing more of an allegory than a fantasy, suggesting deeper implications for his religious ambiguity. He adds dimension to his set pieces too, the most impressive of which is the terrifying apocalyptic coach.