070: The Seashell & The Clergyman (1928)

Over the last six months, the Danish Film Institute has become my second home. Presenting forgotten gems, timeless classics, and one-off special events, it has a consistently fantastic monthly program and it doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon.

One of the said unique nights of cinematic entertainment was the screening of silent film’s lone French female filmmaker Germaine Dulac’s Seashell. If the film wasn’t brilliant enough on its own, local Copenhagen band SPEkTR played a raucous live soundtrack from the wings. Somewhat of a new trend, SPEkTR clearly aren’t riding the wave, they’re causing it. The surf-rock experimentalism and expert theremin-ing of the five piece’s score balanced perfectly with the free spirited fun on screen.

But hey, this is a film blog! Written by visionary french playwright Artaud, Seashell has a fantastic blend between the theatrical and surreal: heads split in two, contorted ballet dancers, Seashell must have been a pretty remarkable film experience with its original release over eighty years ago, and even today is still able to dazzle.


IMDb the film.

Listen to some choons.