Finis Terrae

A French silent film written and directed by Jean Epstein, Finis Terrae (“At the End of the World”) is part docu-drama, part visual poetry. Produced outside the confines of what would become traditional studio filmmaking, Epstein, a former film critic and theorist, allows his creative instincts to wander with the tides to match his film’s setting: a harsh island landscape whose sole inhabitants are four seaweed harvesters struggling to survive the short three-month season.  

Suffering from an infected cut, Ambroise is in no shape to finish his share of the daily labor which sparks resentment among his three fellows. But petty grievances soon give way to a life-or-death crisis as infection sets in and fever takes hold.  Meanwhile back on the mainland, the village pulls together to stage a rescue mission, determined to bring their men home safe.

Harsh reality and dreamlike lyricism, the bookends of Epstein’s style, blur the line between physical isolation and the emotional fragility that comes with it.  The liner notes of Eureka’s astoundingly impressive limited edition Blu-ray make sure to point out the stylistic similarities between the film and Robert Eggers’s The Lighthouse.  The comparison is an apt one, to be sure; from the desolate scenery, gorgeous black-and-white cinematography and (by default) Academy aspect ratio.  And like Eggers’ film, Epstein is less concerned with narrative than mood, experimenting with slow-motion, shallow focus and inventive editing that shakes up what would be an otherwise inconsequential tale of survival.

There’s also plenty of subtext to dig out of the weather-beaten surface.  A trio of included video essays point out references to society’s struggle with advancing modernity, a rapidly declining rural way of life and even queer elements introduced by Epstein’s own sexuality.  But even without a clear metaphorical breakdown, Finis Terrae is simply an astounding piece of cinema to sit back and admire.

Presented in a new 4K restoration from Gaumont, the film’s look – bleached, austere, but always full of incredible detail – is a look modern directors aspire to achieve.  No cinephile will be disappointed.  Extras include the aforementioned video essay plus an archival appreciation and collector’s booklet with writing on the film.