It was Paul Beaumont, a French reporter, who
documented the city of Algerique back in 1957. The footage has recently been
discovered in the Municipal Archive of Marseille, and since few people these
days know about the City of Fun (and even fewer believe it has ever existed) and
since the discovery has largely been ignored by French press ('Algerique?' we
were asked by a Paris Review
journalist, 'have you seen it on the map of France in the last fifty years?'), La Depeche du Matin feels the need to
publish this article.
Below, we have tried to recreate the experience of
watching Paul Beaumont’s documentary so that a new generation could puzzle over
the legend of the City of Fun.
The film is grainy black and white and lasts just over
twenty three minutes, but there is a strong sense that you are seeing something
that could in a hundred years be considered a cult classic.
First shot is of a rather ordinary-looking city. It’s
early morning, and Paul Beaumont is walking down a narrow street of Algerique
talking about the city and how it came to relative prominence in late 19th
century as 'the City of Fun' because of its never-ending festivals and parties
and the fact that its inhabitants have seemingly found the recipe for absolute
happiness. In that opening scene (approx. two minutes), he also states the
purpose of the documentary. Which is to tell the world about Algerique as well
as to explain why its citizens 'have no concept of misery' (Paul’s words).
Suddenly, we start hearing music and the camera is
pulled to the left where we see a group of people dancing around what appears
to be a huge pole covered in pieces of clothing as well as flags of various
colours and sizes. The camera snatches out a smiling face of an old man who is
trying to explain that Algerique has given him the sense of joy, freedom, calm.
'Why City of Fun?' asks a teenager, no doubt repeating
the question posed by Mr. Beaumont. 'Look around!'
Then a couple of jerky shots (someone may have pushed
the cameraman in a fit of passionate dancing) and suddenly we are in another
street. This appears to be early afternoon, and two young ladies can be seen
talking to each other. Paul tells Vincent (apparently Vincent is his cameraman)
that they need to approach them and ask a few questions.
The ladies seem to be enjoying the talk. Clearly there
is no sense of blind, mindless joy about them (which was suggested by certain
critics back in the day). They seem naturally content and explain that 'fun' is
all over the city, 'fun' is overwhelming, but it does not necessarily mean
belly-dancing or dressing up like a clown.
'And what if someone dies?' asks Paul.
'Well, people do', says the girl named Claire. 'They do.
All you need to do is take the right approach. We just know how to cope'.
Then it gets a little confusing as the camera seems to
be jumping around, facing random people of Algerique. Everyone is smiling in a
very disarming manner. These smiles are devoid of madness or drugged up
euphoria (again, screw you, critics of Algerique!). Some are talking about the
city governor in terms that are flattering yet reasonable. Some can't help but
break out in a song. Some are joking with Paul and Vincent and invite them into
a bar or a cafe.
'No alcohol', says Paul walking around a restaurant with
a sense of genuine amazement. And then repeats: 'No alcohol'.
After which there is a rather expendable scene with
long shots of the menu. Then some old woman is whispering 'I love you' into the
camera, then a few more quick interviews and then the final scene. Which is also
the longest as it lasts a little less than five minutes.
What we see in this last scene is a rather hypnotic
shot of the streets of Algerique that are all empty. Which isn’t too strange as
it is late evening or possibly even midnight. While the scene is somewhat
uneventful, we could not stop watching it and even made the point of rewinding
it five times.
The scene ends rather curiously, with a shot that, you
feel, makes zero to no sense. A small boy is seen crying on the edge of the
pavement. Vincent rushes to the boy, we see Paul running with a microphone, in
front of the camera, at which point the screen goes black, and everything
stops.
Thus, we’ve come to the end of the footage and Paul
Beaumont’s legendary documentary on the city of Algerique.
* Nothing is known of Paul Beaumont's existence after
this documentary. We have also found nothing about the mysterious cameraman
named Vincent.
** We would have gladly posted the footage on the official YouTube channel of La Depeche du Matin, but
last week, when we tried to get another viewing and consulted the Municipal
Archive of Marseilles, they told us that the Paul Beaumont documentary was no
longer available.
La Depeche du Matin,
Le 21 Juillet, 2016
