The Making of Children of Paradise

About six months ago, I purchased the Criterion edition of Children of Paradise (Les Enfants du Paradis). I finally got around to it a couple weeks ago, and I was floored. Children of Paradise is one of the greatest films ever made. And it was filmed during the German occupation of France, adding another layer to the creation of this masterpiece.

The plot centers on a courtesan and the four men who love her (three of whom were based on real historical figures, including the mime, Baptiste). Most of the movie takes place in and around the Funambules theatre in Paris, making it a dazzling love letter to the performing arts as well. The word “paradise” in the title is an old theatre term that refers to the upper balcony, and throughout the movie, the lower class spectators seated there are referred to as “the gods.”

Children of Paradise was directed by Marcel Carné, and stars Arletty, Jean-Louis Barrault, Marcel Herrand, and Pierre Brasseur. The Criterion DVD includes a written interview with Carné, who told some incredible stories about what it was like to work on the film during that tumultuous time.

One day on the set, he was inquiring as to the whereabouts of one of his production directors. Someone told him that the production director was simply running an errand, and would be back in an hour. An hour passed… then two… then three… but the man didn’t come back.

Carné later found out that he was a resistance agent and had fled the set because two Gestapo agents were waiting to arrest him! “We had opened a garage behind the studio to make it into a costume shop, and he fled that way,” Carné said. “If, by chance, we hadn’t, the Gestapo would have seized him.”

Carné recounted another incident in which two men came to the set and asked to see one of the extras. Although they looked French and had Nice accents, Carné was still suspicious of them. But the men eventually convinced him that the extra’s wife was hit by a tram and only had an hour to live, so Carné sent his assistant director to find the extra.

“They went into the office, and the assistant director came back five minutes later, haggard. It was two Gestapo agents. I never forgave myself for that,” he said.

He found out later that the assistant director was a Resistance leader. “I grabbed him and said, ‘how could you not tell they were Gestapo?’”

Set designer Alexandre Trauner and composer Joseph Kosma were Jewish, and had to do their work in secret. It is suggested that Carné purposefully delayed the film's completion so that it could be released after France’s liberation. It did indeed premiere in March 1945, which is why Trauner’s and Kosma’s names were able to appear in the end credits.

Elsewhere, the Germans would bring their own extras from the unions, and Carné and his crew had to get creative coming up with different excuses as to why they couldn’t be used—for instance, that the men didn't have the right build for the country and time period.

Two of the actors were discovered to have Nazi ties. The actress Arletty, who played the courtesan Garance, sparked controversy for being the mistress of a Gestapo officer. She was charged with treason and imprisoned. Robert Le Vigan, who was originally cast as Jericho, was a Nazi sympathizer and had to be replaced partway through the filming after he fled to escape a death sentence. (His replacement was Pierre Renoir, the brother of director Jean Renoir and son of artist Pierre Auguste Renoir. One scene with Le Vigan still remains in the final product.)

The interview excerpt began with Carné saying "I was very bold then... it was madness to make such a film in a country lacking the bare necessities," but then later on, he seemed to downplay the situation, saying it was only “a bit troublesome.” However, it didn’t come across as him not taking their situation seriously; rather, he felt he was simply doing his job during what happened to be a very difficult period. He also said that he had an easier time with Children than he did with his previous movie, Les visitors du soir, which was also made during the occupation. I look forward to seeing it when I can track down a copy!

The story I found the most fascinating about Children was not actually about the filming, but rather about the real “Baptiste,” Jean-Gaspard Deburau. He was walking down the street with his mistress one day, when a drunk man began pestering them and calling the woman names. “Deburau pushed him aside, [but] the man, with that insistence peculiar to drunkards, came back at him,” Carné explained. Deburau finally hit him with his cane “and, by some fluke, killed him.” The day Deburau was put on trial, all of Paris showed up, just to hear the mime's voice.

On this note, I know some people are afraid of mimes in the same way one might be afraid of clowns. I personally did not find Baptiste to be frightening. This is helped in part by the fact that we see the character when he’s not a mime as well—we hear him talk and walk around the city and interact with people when he’s out of his makeup and costume. I actually found his performances to be quite beautiful. They had a balletic quality to them that felt almost feathery, instead of harsh. I think what can make a mime’s performance uncomfortable is that the stories they tell are often tragedies disguised as comedies. And in the case of Children, many of those tragic moments provoke laughter from the audience, instead of gasps or cries of shock. But those instances, although jarring, still somehow feel more toned-down and less uncomfortable than they could have been.

Even without considering the extraordinary conditions it was made under, Children of Paradise is a triumph. Although Jean-Louis Barrault’s performance as Baptiste is the standout, every single element comes together exquisitely. It’s definitely one you’ll want to watch when you can really settle in and enjoy it—the final film clocks in at three hours and ten minutes—but I can't recommend it enough.

You can watch Children of Paradise through Amazon Prime, Fandango at Home, or Apple TV (all via pay-per-view).

See subtitle options for the DVD* here.

*The Criterion version of the movie is split into two parts. (I saw both in a single evening, taking a brief intermission in between. Lots of Breakfast at Dominique's coffee was consumed.)

Sources

Stonehill, Brian. Carné On Children of Paradise, 45 Years Later. Other. Criterion, 1990.