The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) – Dreyer’s Silent Masterpiece

Despite this being her only major on-screen film role, theater actress Maria Falconetti delivers one of the most raw, emotionally charged performances in not just silent film, but in all of cinema history. In large part due to Falconetti’s transcendental performance, The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) was voted #6 on Silent Era’s Top 100 Silent Movies List, which I’m reviewing as part of a bi-weekly series sharing whether I agree with each film’s inclusion on the list.

Before casting was finalized, the French press floated rumors that American star Lillian Gish would play Joan. That idea enraged French nationalists, who were already suspicious of the non-Catholic, non-French director Carl Theodor Dreyer handling their national hero’s story. But it came to his final casting decision, the Danish Dreyer chose wisely. After watching Falconetti perform on stage, he cast her in what would become a career-defining and history-making role.

Dreyer kept the camera up close to the actors, rarely showing establishment shots

Dreyer’s commitment to authenticity was just as intense as Falconetti’s performance. He researched Joan’s life for over a year and a half, pulling much of the film’s dialogue directly from the historical records of Joan of Arc’s trial. Dreyer then condensed Joan of Arc’s 18 months of imprisonment and 29 interrogations into a single day, transforming what could have been a long historical epic into a lean, devastating under-90-minute experience.

The Passion of Joan of Arc opens with a brief prologue about Dreyer’s research, but quickly thrusts viewers into Joan’s trial. Dreyer doesn’t dwell on backstory, feature any epic battles, or flashback to Joan’s childhood. Instead, Dreyer is much more interested in examining the emotional torment Joan faces for her beliefs rather than telling a comprehensive story of the saint’s life.

Dreyer likes his details, whether it be historical research or an actor’s moles

Dreyer’s directing style is one-of-a-kind as he shoots almost exclusively in close-ups, rarely using establishing shots despite the large castle set built for the film. That means we, as viewers, are right there in the characters’ faces. We see every wrinkle, tear, and even every mole as none of the actors wore makeup, a bold choice that heightens the film’s realism and strips away any sense of artifice.

The Passion of Joan of Arc‘s editing is just as bold as its acting and direction. Dreyer was heavily influenced by Soviet filmmakers like Pudovkin and Eisenstein, and it shows. The editing is fast-paced and rhythmic, most noticeably in a sequence where Joan is taken to be tortured. The scene cuts rapidly between Joan, the priest, and a terrifying medieval torture device, speeding up to build a sense of existential dread and suffocating tension.

Quick intercutting shots of the torture device is far more menacing than just merely glancing at the machine from a distance

Dreyer’s innovations turn what could have been a dry historical drama into something deeply personal. We aren’t watching a historical legend from a distance but feel as if we’re right there alongside Joan in her grief and fear. We see her suffering up close as sh gives everything to protect her beliefs in the face of the cruel hypocrisy of English clergymen.

The Passion of Joan of Arc ranks number 8 on the Silent Era’s Top 100 Silent Movies list, and honestly, I think that’s too low. In my book, the film deserves a spot in the top five, maybe even the top three. The filmmaking combines so many different cutting techniques at the time that mesh perfectly with the naturalist performances to make a deeply emotional story that remains a century later one of the most deeply spiritual films ever made.

Starring our characters straight in the face

It’s currently streaming on Criterion and Max, and it’s in the public domain. If you haven’t seen it, take 81 minutes out of your day—you won’t regret it. (There are different versions of the film depending on how fast the film is projected. I prefer the faster-paced 81-minute version and think that’s a good version for first-time viewers rather than the slower projected 97-minute version.)

Up next in this series, I’ll be looking at Greta Garbo’s breakout role in G.W. Pabst’s 1925 film Joyless Street.