Beauty and the Beast

Cocteau’s adaptation of this timeless fairy tale spends a little more on the characterisations than many as it regales us with the misfortunes of a merchant (John Kuether) and his four children. All a... Cocteau’s adaptation of this timeless fairy tale spends a little more on the characterisations than many as it regales us with the misfortunes of a merchant (John Kuether) and his four children. All are used to the finer things in life, but when rough seas rob him of his merchandise and two of his daughters continue to spend as if there were no tomorrow, he is reduced to near bankruptcy and forced to travel the woods in the dark where he is caught up in a storm. Desperate for shelter, he happens upon a ruined castle and there spends the night. Rather than leave as he came, though, he helps himself to one of the roses growing near the wall and that causes his hitherto absent host to emerge with a menacing ultimatum. Prepare to become compost or get one of your daughters to voluntarily come and keep me company. Of course, there is debate about what the family ought to do upon his return, but it’s “Belle” (Josette Day) who takes the initiative and duly arrives to fulfil his pledge. Though outwardly quite monstrous, the “beast” (Jean Marais) isn’t looking to make her life hard or frightening, indeed he ensures that she has the finest clothes, jewels, food and drink and she begins to soften to his fearsome appearance. With some trust soon established, she convinces him to allow her to spend some time with her family and when they see her finery and riches she realises that perhaps she doesn’t belong there any more - though not before her previous suitor “Avenant” (also Marais) and her brother “Ludovic” (Michel Auclair) hatch a plan to follow her and appropriate some of his riches. It’s the ultimate love story that encourages people to look beyond the superficial, and I found Day delivered effectively as a woman of integrity and humanity. There is much less mystery about her nemesis here. We see him right from the start and though I will confess to thinking Marais did look a bit like Frank Morgan’s lion from “The Wizard of Oz” (1939), he brought a pitiable nature to his performance. The design, costumes and eeriness of the ruins all really help to convey his sense of loneliness and isolation, and make the fairly standard presentation of the denouement just that little bit different.