There is only one word to describe Jean Cocteau’s spellbinding adaptation of Beauty and the Beast - Magical.

The film begins with a direct plea to the audience, a plea to simply believe as a child would: to believe in the fantastical and magical. Whilst it expresses Cocteau’s intent it is perhaps a redundant introduction when it is so easy to believe in this cursed and enchanted world. It is one of those rare films that has enthralled countless generations, and old and young alike, without talking down to either audience. Above all it is the ultimate fairy-tale film that utilises the illusionary qualities of the medium to their fullest.

Whilst the film could be interpreted as having real world…

Jean Cocteau's adaption of La Belle et la Bête is a film of tender beauty so striking in its visual presentation that it for a good 90 minutes transports the audience into a world of magic and wonder. I've always been a huge fan of the story itself and have seen the Disney version many times, loving it each and every time, but Cocteau's version is truly something else. Although grounded mostly in realism and having few reminders (if you can look past the beast) of the fantastical nature of the story and setting, such as the infamous candles sequence, they are so impressive and wonderfully realised that you never forget you're watching a fairytale. When the candles light themselves…

As a huge fan of the Disney animated version of this dark fairy tale, I had pretty high expectations for this much earlier live action adaptation. It looks great and highlights the darker elements of this classic story. Even the old timey effects totally worked on me, and instead of thinking they looked fake, I was completely won over. The cinematography is consistently excellent and I found it impossible to look away. It's a beautiful film to behold and experience on a lot of levels, especially when it comes to the atmosphere.

I did have some problems with it, however. One of the things I didn't fully enjoy was some of the over-the-top acting, but I've come to expect that…

I can honestly say without a shadow of doubt that Cocteau's "La Belle et La Bête" contains the most beautiful and fantastical visuals/ imagery that I have ever seen on film.

The cinematography and art direction to create such a magical environment and fantasy world alone makes this film worthwhile to watch. But Jean Cocteau goes further and transforms the classic tale of "Beauty and the Beast" into a surreal other worldly adventure all on its own. I have never been as impressed with the technique that was put into a film before as much as I was with this film. The armed held candle torches, the smokey faces of the fireplace, the curious statues of Belle's room and the…

78/100

Reviewed this for Time Out New York when it was restored and reissued in 2002, and that'll still mostly suffice. But I was more bothered by the clunky irrelevance of the Avenant subplot this time, and after doing a little Wiki-research I now understand why: It's the sole element that Cocteau completely invented, with no precedent in any version of the fairy tale. His ending in particular feels really muddled—Belle has no idea that Avenant was really a scoundrel (or that he's now dead, for that matter), so her hesitation when asked whether she minds that the Beast now looks exactly like him doesn't make a whole lot of emotional sense. That's the quibble; now here's the gushing.

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Few movies I have ever seen evoke a sense of magic like Beauty and the Beast. The camera glides through the Beast's dark castle revealing it's little secrets. I don't think I will ever forget the scene where Belle's father first enters the beast's castle. As he walks down the dark hall, the camera glides and pivots gracefully, revealing a series of candelabra's being held by disembodied arms that emerge from the dark. I also won't forget the first time Belle enters the castle and glides through the hallway. The visual effects are stunning, and the movie is yet more proof that you don't need crazy modern digital effects to create something magical. Indeed, I have to imagine that a…

78/100

Reviewed this for Time Out New York when it was restored and reissued in 2002, and that'll still mostly suffice. But I was more bothered by the clunky irrelevance of the Avenant subplot this time, and after doing a little Wiki-research I now understand why: It's the sole element that Cocteau completely invented, with no precedent in any version of the fairy tale. His ending in particular feels really muddled—Belle has no idea that Avenant was really a scoundrel (or that he's now dead, for that matter), so her hesitation when asked whether she minds that the Beast now looks exactly like him doesn't make a whole lot of emotional sense. That's the quibble; now here's the gushing.

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Jean Cocteau's adaption of La Belle et la Bête is a film of tender beauty so striking in its visual presentation that it for a good 90 minutes transports the audience into a world of magic and wonder. I've always been a huge fan of the story itself and have seen the Disney version many times, loving it each and every time, but Cocteau's version is truly something else. Although grounded mostly in realism and having few reminders (if you can look past the beast) of the fantastical nature of the story and setting, such as the infamous candles sequence, they are so impressive and wonderfully realised that you never forget you're watching a fairytale. When the candles light themselves…