Judex (1963)

This time Georges Franju's take, 1963
This employs many devices that at once recall the past one, but use conventions that were not available at the time.
Franju's camera often starts slightly further out, then has a wonderful, unhurried, light as air track in to a relatively closer position to the detail. An unfussy sot reverse is used then in earlier scenes. This swoop, or glide, is repeated throughout the film, though later on we occassionally have the opposite; starting close and moving out.
We never however come too close; there is a terrific propensity for two-three, and more shots, allowing acting, the classic Renoir mis-en-scene. This doesn't get too far away, but Franju uses the whole frame well (1:1.66) to give us this nice restrained, yet certain, mis-en-scene. The change is made from the type of framings used in 1916, in that now we have sides of heads, backs of heads, rather than heads on the characters. The camera engages in what are some really quite elaborate '270 turns also; but they are cunningly done slowly, smoothly, so the atmosphere is not too sharpened.
And soft is what this film is; remarkably white throughout, with only the dark of Judex. This softness (partly due to the always wonderful 'Masters of Cinema' transfer) means extremely intricate low contrast images. All shows up in great detail, and creates an airiness, an almost floating quality.
This is part of the sets, which are where the film comes closest to the original. The intricate, fiddly, extremely ornate patterns add to the scape. As do the busts, have animal, half man, that like miniature medusas stare throughout the piece. Never drawn attention too, they compose part of the deliberately surrealist (in the non-showy, Bunuelian tradition) air.
The clearest surrealist element is the bird theme. Here we have whiteness, and watching, and the idea of gliding across space.
This film is perhaps most remarkable for its pace. Characters pad around, actions take a long time. Even when characters should, rationally, be in a hurry, they stop to take care to put their coat on. This lack of intensity even applies to the flat, trance like acting style. This is what the cinema of the dream is; not too showy, but a kind of uniformity of movement, a refusal to be hurried. Walking from the door to the window takes time, as we follow their passing across the floor.
This is further enhanced by the music, or rather its absence. We again have a lack of histrionics, even the low-key notes that do play tone down, rather than emphasize, the action,
The story is obviously vastly compressed from the original Judex. It adds some slightly more believable motivations, and inserts parts of the later story (and even some images of 'Les Vampires') into new surroundings. The story isn't really the point here; or when it is, it adds to the general tone. One hadn't quite appreciated how surreal the entry of the deus ex acrobat, Daisy Torp, really was.
The word 'surrealist' is thrown about a lot, but this film genuinely marks a correct use of that world. In its strict adherence to tone, elegant, kinetically pleasing camera, and care to not overdo, but to always mark the set with interest, it is a deeply cared for and impressive work.