After putting it off for several centuries, I finally finished watching Louis Feuillade's Judex (1916). Encouraged by my positive experience with Feuillade's Fantômas adaptations, I sought out more of the director's work, beginning with this serial. If Fantômas is cinema's first supervillain, then Judex might be its first superhero. We are introduced to Judex, a mysterious vigilante with his own hi-tech hideout, with a threatening note he sends to the crooked banker Favraux: Favraux is to give all of his wealth to his victims, or die at the stroke of midnight. Like so many superheroes after him, though, Judex is unable to take the banker's life. Instead he imprisons him at his remote base, which leads to numerous complications.
At first I had trouble getting into this film, which is less inventive and action-packed than its predecessor, Fantômas. Whereas Feuillade's workmanlike direction depicted the insane scenarios of Fantômas in a matter-of-fact way, resulting in a proto-Surrealist atmosphere, for the most part there is no such synergy here. Instead Judex largely loses itself in sentimental scenes so syrupy that they nearly prevented me from finishing the series. After watching and loving Georges Franju's 1963 remake, however, my interest was reignited. As it turns out, the point at which I picked up again marks a major shift, both from Franju's adaptation and from Feuillade's previous chapters. While earlier episodes meander too often into dull scenes of people hugging and kissing each other, episode 7 ("The Woman in Black") is unexpectedly sophisticated in its construction. Judex's ultimate motives in Franju's film remain mysterious (a wise decision in that context), but here we learn the traumatic childhood event that led to Judex's crusade against Favraux. The tragic back-story not only reveals Judex's reasons for targeting Favraux, but also further illuminates the character's inner moral struggle.
One of my other quibbles as I began watching Judex was my disappointment in Judex himself. Fantômas remains a charismatic and frightening criminal mastermind; Judex, on the other hand, lacks presence. He is often outsmarted and overpowered by his criminal foes, and his love for Favraux's daughter leads to many scenes of the lovelorn Judex moping around. Having finally finished the series, however, I now see things in a different light. Unlike the anarchic Fantômas, this series represents a deeply humanistic take on the eternal struggle between good and evil. Though Judex has great reason to despise Favraux, his love for Favraux's daughter has him reconsidering his dogmatic stance against criminals. He gradually comes to believe in the capacity for villains to reform themselves, and he is more likely to rely on non-violent means to meet his goals. In this film, even the worst of criminals is not beyond redemption. Perhaps not the superhero film that we deserve, but in this age of gritty reboots it might be the one that we need.
At first I had trouble getting into this film, which is less inventive and action-packed than its predecessor, Fantômas. Whereas Feuillade's workmanlike direction depicted the insane scenarios of Fantômas in a matter-of-fact way, resulting in a proto-Surrealist atmosphere, for the most part there is no such synergy here. Instead Judex largely loses itself in sentimental scenes so syrupy that they nearly prevented me from finishing the series. After watching and loving Georges Franju's 1963 remake, however, my interest was reignited. As it turns out, the point at which I picked up again marks a major shift, both from Franju's adaptation and from Feuillade's previous chapters. While earlier episodes meander too often into dull scenes of people hugging and kissing each other, episode 7 ("The Woman in Black") is unexpectedly sophisticated in its construction. Judex's ultimate motives in Franju's film remain mysterious (a wise decision in that context), but here we learn the traumatic childhood event that led to Judex's crusade against Favraux. The tragic back-story not only reveals Judex's reasons for targeting Favraux, but also further illuminates the character's inner moral struggle.
One of my other quibbles as I began watching Judex was my disappointment in Judex himself. Fantômas remains a charismatic and frightening criminal mastermind; Judex, on the other hand, lacks presence. He is often outsmarted and overpowered by his criminal foes, and his love for Favraux's daughter leads to many scenes of the lovelorn Judex moping around. Having finally finished the series, however, I now see things in a different light. Unlike the anarchic Fantômas, this series represents a deeply humanistic take on the eternal struggle between good and evil. Though Judex has great reason to despise Favraux, his love for Favraux's daughter has him reconsidering his dogmatic stance against criminals. He gradually comes to believe in the capacity for villains to reform themselves, and he is more likely to rely on non-violent means to meet his goals. In this film, even the worst of criminals is not beyond redemption. Perhaps not the superhero film that we deserve, but in this age of gritty reboots it might be the one that we need.