We live in a world where having hope seems to be a luxury. Optimism is something that only those who are privileged enough to have a sunny disposition get to exercise, since everyone else is forced to live in a state of anxiety and despair. Yet, every now and then, a work of art comes into our life – whether past or present – and shows that there is so much more to life than just what we have been taught, and that there’s always value in looking beyond the obvious and seeking meaning from art, which is not only a medium that entertains, but can sometimes enlighten in unexpected ways. We find this to be the case in Circus Angel (French: Fifi le plume), written and directed by Albert Lamorisse, the filmmaker behind The Red Balloon, a perennial classic that has often been cited as one of the most influential short films ever made, and a work that is not always appreciated as much as some may hope. However, it is this film in particular that proves to be his masterpiece, since not only do we get to spend more time in this enchanting world that the director constructs for us, but we are also witness to one of the most beautiful, life-affirming films of its era, a beautiful and captivating work that explores humanity in a way that is staggering, complex and deeply moving. The simple premise introduces us to Fifi, a down-on-his-luck young man who has turned to petty crime to support himself. In an effort to hide from the police, he takes refuge in a circus, where he is promptly selected to become the “angel”, one of the resident trapeze artists and the cornerstone act. In between performances, he continues to engage in petty burglaries, but soon discovers that, in addition to growing more compassionate to those around him, he may be starting to take on the literal qualities of an angel, leading him to realise the errors of his ways, as well as learn that he doesn’t necessarily have to steal from others to become rich. A simple but evocative film that is as engaging as it is deeply beautiful, Circus Angel is the very definition of a masterpiece, and a work that is ripe for rediscovery as a true classic of its era.

Circus Angel is a film with a clear message, which it proudly spends its time exploring in detail. Much like The Red Balloon, the film revolves around a very simple premise, one that can be easily summarised into a single sentence – which helps draw audiences in and give us a general understanding of the plot – without revealing all of the intricate nuances that populate the narrative, since part of the appeal of this film is how it manages to surprise us, not despite its simplicity but as a result of it. The story examines what life would be like for someone who decides to hide amongst a group of nomadic circus performers, in the hopes of evading paying the consequences for his actions, but rather than blending into the background as he expected, he is thrust into the limelight, becoming the star attraction of the show. The significance behind this is not too difficult to see, since this is a story about someone on a voyage of self-discovery without even realising it. There are so many films that take the form of morality tales, in which someone who lives a life that skirts around the edges of morality is taught a lesson through simply being placed in difficult situations in which he is forced to confront his misdeeds and decides to change the path he is on, likely in exchange for avoiding paying the consequences of his actions. Yet, while working from a familiar premise, we also can’t deny that Circus Angel adds layers of meaning that did not need to be included for it to be effective, but rather exist to shade in the various nuances that drive the story forward. It is a film about the circus, which is always a very entertaining setting, since it allows for an abundance of diverse, eccentric personalities to emerge, while also being a comedy-of-errors that takes place in a more fantastical version of reality, one where anything is possible and no one thinks twice about mystifying occurences, since its all business as usual in this alternate reality, which proves to be the foundation on which the director builds a splendid little fable about compassion, humanity and community in all its forms.

Considering the themes with which he was working, Lamorisse deserves credit for crafting a film that is deeply moving and captures the many intricate nuances of this story, but without becoming heavy-handed or one-dimensional, which is always a concern when working with more complex or challenging themes. The ideas that drive this film forward, and indeed inform so much of its worldview, come from the director’s attention to detail and willingness to craft something quietly tender and insightful without resorting to the same hackneyed techniques. This was before cinema was allowing itself to be more cynical and challenging, at least in terms of mainstream output, so it wasn’t surprising to find works like this, as well as those by filmmakers along the lines of Claude Berri and Yves Robert, who existed adjacently to the growing French New Wave, embracing the traditions that this rambunctious group of young artists were seeking to dismantle, and in the process creating works that may be slightly navel-gazing and saccharine, but never to the point where it becomes an artistic handicap. Instead, Lamorisse follows a very familiar formula in terms of narrative structure, keeping to a storyline that we can easily recognise right down to the smallest conceptual beats, which is not an indication of it being derivative, but rather rigid in structure, which gives its more abstract elements room to flourish. You can’t make a film like Circus Angel without focusing on the very strong emotions that sit at the heart of the story, and it becomes an act of balancing different tones in order to not only tell this compelling story, but also explore it on a number of different levels. The humour is sharp, blending slapstick comedy with a more subtle, gentle kind of levity that we often don’t expect from these quirky, fantastical dramas. This is counterbalanced by the dreamlike tone (and the accompanying aesthetic – the film is simply constructed but incredibly beautiful), which gives the film a sense of magical realism, plunging us into a world where it seems like anything is truly possible. The director does not allow this to go to waste, since the entirety of Circus Angel is essentially a stream of unforgettably beautiful images that work together with its deeply moving story to create something extremely special and heartwarming.

Circus Angel is not a film that needs to depend on its actors to be effective, since this is a more conceptual work, and all it required was a cast willing to work closely with the director to realise the core ideas, rather than having the most complex or well-formed characters, which is not a criticism of the character development but rather an acknowledgement of its main goals, which was not to be an acting showcase. Nevertheless, a film like this still benefits from an ensemble willing to tackle the more ethereal nature of the plot, which it does with such incredible sensitivity and nuance, being a quietly moving portrait of a young man learning the value of changing his ways, regardless of the challenges that come in the process. The part of Fifi is played to perfection by Philippe Avron, who captures both the mischievous, rambunctious nature of the character when he is engaging in petty crime, as well as the more sensitive, lovable side when he decides to lean into his newfound compassion. The key to the success of this performance is that Avron is able to find the perfect balance, managing to be extremely convincing at playing all angles of this quirky, irreverent character that seems simple on the surface but has so many complex layers once we have spent some time with him. It’s a quietly moving performance, delivered by someone who wholeheartedly understands the brief, right down to the smallest and most inconsequential detail that is somehow reworked to become the foundation for something truly and entirely unforgettable. The rest of the cast is just as splendid – Mireille Nègre is irresistibly magnetic as the trapeze artist with whom Fifi falls madly in love, while Henri Lambert is suitably sinister as the lion tamer who functions as the primary antagonist of the story. Considering the extent to which it follows a very traditional structure, it’s surprising how nuanced these performances are, since it would have been easy and understandable for the film to have taken a more subdued approach, but despite its potential limitations, the story is only elevated by a cast that truly and wholeheartedly commits to the many intriguing aspects that guide this film.

I don’t believe perfection in art is ever truly attainable, but there are a few films that come exceptionally close – and it often tends to be those who exist outside the mainstream or are very rarely cited in discussions around the canon that actually do prove to come closest to achieving this nearly impossible honour. Circus Angel is an astonishing piece of cinema – a poignant, poetic and captivating blend of comedy, fantasy and romance, all handcrafted into this quietly moving exploration of the various nuances of the human condition in its many challenging and beautiful forms. It’s a film that easily makes its way into your heart, since it is not particularly long (running a mere 77 minutes, meaning that it never overstays its welcome), and revolves around a story that is exceptionally pure and deeply compelling. We can all appreciate the thematic undertones that linger beneath quite a conventional, almost cartoonish premise – someone seeking a place in a world that they simply do not understand, and finding their salvation in the most unorthodox way imaginable. It’s not overly complex storytelling, but it has nuances that are impossible to put into words, which is all a product of a film that understands the importance of atmosphere in building a very particular experience for the audience, who are nonetheless almost immediately taken by the sheer splendour and charm that exudes from absolutely every frame of this film. It’s a delicately crafted masterpiece that is as visually appealing as it is narratively bold, being a poignant and captivating comedy with an interminable amount of soul and a heart far larger than its simple frame could ever contain. It’s as close to a perfect film as we can get, with its emotions being sincere, its ideas bold enough to hold our attention, the characters deeply familiar, and the story extremely resonant. Everything falls into place beautifully, being arranged by a director who may not define innovation in the way that we’d expect, but still draws us in with this simple, evocative story of finding humanity in the most unexpected of places, leading to a film that is nothing if not a true gem ripe for rediscovery.