
“A film is a petrified fountain of thought.”
- Jean Cocteau
Director Jean Cocteau opens Beauty and the Beast with a disclaimer urging us to put aside our jaded adult sensibilities and give over to “childlike simplicity.” He then begins with a title card reading “Once upon a time . . . .” As a grown man who recently waited in line over two hours to see the last Harry Potter film, I appreciated this romantic sentiment. Of course, Cocteau’s now classic adaptation of Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont’s fairytale is built upon such romantic notions, not just in its crafting, but in its retelling. Cocteau has taken the original story’s innate allegorical base and decorated it with his own suggestions of love, humanity and creativity.
Many of you were probably weaned on Disney’s animated version. Though Cocteau’s vision lacks Jerry Orbach’s singing candelabra, you’ll nevertheless recognize the core narrative: after her father is held captive by a cruel beast, a beautiful-yet-modest maiden selflessly offers herself in exchange for her father’s life. Her hirsute captor eventually reveals his true nature as a tortured and lonely soul. From hate springs love, and the colored girls go doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo.
The weight of Cocteau’s haunting images, which are breathed onto the screen through Henri Alekan’s immaculate cinematography, immediately distinguish his adaptation. Cocteau, who considered himself first and foremost a poet, paints a virtual cathedral to the powers of light and shadow in the form of Beast’s enchanted/cursed domain, and beguiles the eye with groundbreaking (and often bizarre) production design and special effects.
As much as I admire the crafting of Cocteau’s film and the innovations therein, I must put my cinephilia at risk and confess that I do not enjoy the story in this form. For me, the film’s magic exists solely on a technical level. Perhaps years of Disneyfied classics have dulled my senses, but I find the characters in Cocteau’s film to be hollow caricatures of boorish morality constructs. Both Beast (Jean Marais) and Belle (Josette Day) have moments of genuine humanity, but they come between plodding stretches of insufferable posing. Cocteau’s film is at its best when the great filmmaker is expressing the story through dreamy abstractions rather than yawning affections to old fashioned archetypes. So, as much as I wanted to oblige Cocteau’s disclaimer and “believe a thousand simple things,” I settled for a distant appreciation.

Beauty and the Beast comes to Blu-ray in its original standard aspect ratio of 1.33:1. The transfer utilizes the AVC codec, takes up 31GB of space on the disc, and has a video bitrate of 35.00 Mbps.
Presented here is a transfer minted from the impressive restoration done by the Luxemburg Centre national de l’audiovisuel in 1995. The Blu-ray improves upon most of the usual areas, including detail, contrast and grain visibility. However, a fair amount of dirt, debris and minor damage persists. Still, Henri Alekan’s images have never looked so alive on the home stage. The filmic texture of this Blu-ray presentation is particularly appealing, even if the restoration is less than perfection.

Beauty and the Beast is presented here with a 24-bit uncompressed French monaural track at 1152Kbps.
The French monaural track is just about perfect. Hissing, pops and distortion are virtually nonexistent, and dialogue sounds excellent. The score and the ambient sounds of the castle and forest also play well through the single channel. However, what I really want to highlight is the amazing Philip Glass track (presented in DTS-HD MA 5.1) that has been included as an alternate option. Glass composed an opera that perfectly syncs with the film—it also drastically alters the experience. I found that I enjoyed the film far more with Glass taking over the music and dialogue. All of the tedious characteristics of the film suddenly become urgent and wildly dramatic. Call it cheap manipulation, but I enjoyed this alternate perspective.
English subtitles are presented in white.

All of the features from Criterion’s original DVD pressing have been included here.
Commentaries:
There are two excellent commentaries included here: the first by Sir Christopher Frayling and the second by film historian Arthur Knight.
Philip Glass’s Opera:
See audio review section.
Screening at the Majestic (27min):
A 1995 documentary featuring interviews with cast and crew.
Interview with Henri Alekan (9min):
Here is a great interview with cinematographer Henri Alekan.
Secrets Professionnels: Tete-A-Tete (9min):
Excerpts from the French television show that focus on the film’s makeup.
Film Restoration (4min):
A documentary on the restoration.
Trailers:
Included are the original theatrical trailer and the 1995 restoration trailer.
Stills Gallery:
A collection of set and behind-the-scenes photographs.
Booklet:
Included is a 32-page booklet with an essay by Geoffrey O’Brien, an essay by Cocteau, excerpts from Francis Steegmuller’s biography on Cocteau, and an introduction to Glass’s opera.

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