L'enfant du carnaval Review: A Weirdly Fun Silent Baby Melodrama

If you're looking for a breezy Sunday watch, stay away from L'enfant du carnaval. But if you love dusty, dramatic silent films with guys who look like they use too much hair gel, this is a goldmine. 🎥

It is basically a 1921 melodrama about a guy who gets a baby dropped on his porch.

The main guy is played by Ivan Mozzhukhin, who also co-wrote the thing. He has these eyes that look like they are constantly trying to burn a hole through the camera lens.

Honestly, the baby is the best actor in the whole thing.

There's this one scene where Ivan's character first sees the kid and his face goes through about fifteen different emotions in three seconds. It's hilarious but also kind of beautiful?

The story itself is nothing new, of course. We've seen the "irresponsible bachelor gets a baby" thing a million times, even back in the twenties.

It doesn't have the outright silly energy of something like The Lunatic at Large. Instead, it swings wildly between goofy physical comedy and heavy, dark sadness.

Like, one minute they are doing gag routines with baby bottles, and the next, the mother is looking like she's about to jump off a bridge.

Speaking of the mother, her scenes feel so disconnected from the rest of the film. It's like they shot two different movies and glued them together with some messy glue.

There's a really weird extra in the background of the carnival scene who just stares directly at the camera for a solid ten seconds. I couldn't stop looking at him.

Did he know he was in a movie? Or was he just really confused by the camera equipment?

The print I watched was pretty rough, which actually added to the charm. Some of the title cards was flashing by so fast I had to pause the video twice just to read them.

It made me think of how different this is from other European melodramas of the era, like Der Zarewitsch, which feels much more put-together. This one is messy.

But that messiness is why I like it.

Apparently, the poster for this movie used to hang in the lobby of the Paris Cinematheque for years. I can see why—the visuals have this strange, ghostly vibe that sticks in your head.

Especially the shots at night. The lighting is super harsh, casting these massive, creepy shadows on the walls.

Is it a masterpiece? No, probably not.

But if you want to see a silent film star get utterly defeated by a tiny infant, it's totally worth an hour of your time. 🍼