Fanatisme: A strange, dusty relic of a movie

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, only if you have a soft spot for 1930s French melodramas and don't mind when the plot gets a little bit thin. If you’re looking for a tight thriller, you'll be bored to tears within twenty minutes. If you want to see Pola Negri acting like the world is ending every time she enters a room, well, step right up.

The whole thing feels like it was filmed inside a velvet-lined box. It is claustrophobic and deeply, aggressively theatrical. You can practically smell the stage makeup coming off the screen.

The Pola Negri factor

She is the only reason to watch this. She has this way of holding her breath before she speaks that makes you feel like she’s about to either faint or start a revolution. It’s exhausting to watch. In a good way, maybe?

There’s this one scene where she’s staring into a mirror and the lighting makes her look like a ghost. It lasts for way too long. The editor definitely fell asleep at the desk, or maybe they just decided that silence was a mood. It worked for me, though. It felt like watching someone crack in slow motion.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Fanatisme (1934) through its definitive frames.

• The dialogue is incredibly flowery, almost to the point of being funny.
• The sets look like they were pulled from Mon curé chez les riches, just way more depressed.
• I swear the background actors are just trying not to trip over the floorboards.

It reminds me a bit of the heavy-handed drama you see in The Unholy Three, but without the weird circus antics. It’s just people talking in rooms about their feelings. A lot of feelings. So many feelings that you kind of want them to just stop and have a coffee instead.

The pacing is a mess. Sometimes a scene will fly by in seconds, then the next one lingers until you’re staring at the wallpaper patterns. I counted three different types of wallpaper in one room. Why was there so much wallpaper?

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely even a coherent story by modern standards. But there’s a weird, dusty charm to it. Like finding an old photograph in a thrift store and wondering who the people are. You don't know them, but you feel like you should.

I left the movie feeling like I needed to go outside and breathe some real air. It’s that kind of experience. Not one I’d recommend for a Friday night party, but definitely something for when you want to feel slightly haunted by a film you barely understood. 🎞️