sbekam Until I watched this documentary on TCM, I did not know or heard of Henri Langlois and was amazed to learn what he did for cinema. He went through great trouble and hardship to be able to collect and preserve these movies and memorabilia. Watching his interviews and footage you can appreciate his love for cinema and the best part of him was that he collected movies from all over the world unlike some others who only preserved what they liked. Great directors owe their success to this man as he made it possible for the younger generation to have a chance to watch great works of cinema in his theater. One can appreciate his efforts knowing when he started to show these movies, VHS and DVD's were not available and if you missed a movie once it was on big screen, you may never get a chance to watch it. Watching this documentary, I realize that my collection of DVD's would have not been as large if it wasn't for Mr. Langlois. Henri Langlois was a visionary and ahead of his time by decades. Too bad not too many people know about him.

peacenow17 I'm actually too emotional to be writing this at this moment, having just seen the film. It is clear that without the extraordinary efforts of Henri Langlois, many of the great achievements in cinema would never have survived. Though he was a genius, he always had to deal with the Sisyphean struggle against pettiness and institutional lameness, but especially a lack of, ironically, VISION, to understand the importance of preserving films as a legacy for the future. It is a must-see for anyone who is passionate about film, but it is heartbreaking to experience the struggle. One cannot fathom how it is possible that although he had remarkable support from some of the most important film makers of SEVERAL generations, in the end, the struggle was too much to bear. It is a lesson/warning: When someone of such immense passion and drive subordinates everything for something greater than himself, we, in society, must pay attention. It's not as though he was a great painter who never sold a painting in his lifetime and died never knowing how he may have affected people through his work. Langlois did have champions, but that just wasn't enough because his task was so enormous. This film deserves a better comment. It is at once exhilarating and crushing.

Seamus2829 I had the chance to check out this fantastic documentary some time back at one of our local art cinemas (unfortunately the U.S. cut). After films about films (Day For Night, anyone?), I love documentaries about films. Make no mistake about it, this is a cinematic love letter to one of French cinema's patron saints. The film features scads of interviews with those who knew & loved (or hated) Langlois. As I watched it, I tried to imagine what it must have been liked to have attended a film at the Cinematic Francais,back in the day (with the likes of Truffaut,Goddard & Rivette sitting just inches away from you). This is a film that any/all serious film fanatics should be going out of their way to see. Perhaps one of these days, we may even get to see the 210 minute French cut of the film one of these days.

MisterWhiplash ...Because, as this documentary makes quite clear, Langlois was one of the greatest film geeks that ever lived, and it would be heaven-sent (if there is a heaven) to have him back at the Cinematheque again. And I say the word 'geek' with the utmost enthusiasm and admiration and respect et all. Langlois was not just a film buff's film buff (no New-Wave without him, hence probably most of today's cinema), but also open to anyone who might be interested in checking out his museum of cinematic wonders, where he collected objects and put them in the spaces and hallways with brilliant ease. He was probably the greatest programmer of any privately functioning theater ever. After amassing 50,000+ film prints over a span of a couple of decades, the Cinematheque in Paris became THE place where fans of film (and auteurs to be exact) could come and see entire careers of a director, or, more importantly, even bring their own film or a 'heisted' print to be included in the archives. It was no surprise then when an incredible uprising occurred over Langois being ousted in 1968, and when finally re-instated things could never totally be the same again.Rarely have I seen someone documented who in a way is as important to the history of film as any other important filmmaker from any part of the country. As Jean-Luc Godard says at the start of the film, "Langlois was like a film producer who produced a way of seeing films." He was in large part preservationist who held onto original negatives (sometimes in nitrate form) and re-cut the films when only scraps and fragments remained of masterpieces, leading to people being able to see many films that would otherwise be lost. He was also in large part as enthusiastic as a little kid with a new toy when it came to finding an old silent film from Murnau or Eisenstein or something from Jean Vigo and sharing his love with other people who would either go on to be filmmakers themselves (the 'New-Wave', to be sure, but also film historians), or the casual amirer of films. And another part was the museum he had built up like any other art museum, with the finest pieces of wares and artifacts (i.e. the original 'mother' head from Psycho), to invite film fans and even casual viewers to gorge on more than just memorabilia.It then becomes bittersweet - at first sweet- to see his story unfold via many interviews with associates, friends, filmmakers (Chabrol, Roche, etc), and historians who knew how Langlois started small with passionate screenings in the 30s, then into a sort of resistance fighter for his films from the Nazis in the early 40s, and then finally expanding in the late 40s into the 50s to become the premier place for films that, unlike any other archive, were all inclusive for the audience. So, in a sense, we learn he was a filmmaker, but really as one who could make the films important and vital and presentable. He wasn't alone, as we learn throughout this entertaining look at his ups and downs of his career- we also see a bit into his personal life with his most close associate and love Mary, who was like a mother with tough love attached at times. Then, eventually, we see how he also had enemies, maybe as many as he had friends and followers, and somehow (he wasn't "executive" material of course, and because he was private and with next to no funding from the French government, near dirt-poor while scrapping everything for his non-profit organization) he got fired. It's amazing- on top of the previous footage of various film clips from the films he showed &/or directors inspired (Vigo, Godard, Meilies, Von Strernberg, Murnau, etc)- to see the revolution-style protests of his being fired by film directors and fans. It's actually, in all manner of speaking, inspiring.But then the bitter part comes in seeing what Langlois was reduced to after being reinstated- taking professor jobs on cinema across America and Canada and France- just to get a little more money for the fledgling Cinematheque. All of this ends up being told through Langlois and the other interviews as something that is saddening, but there's still always hope and more films to be shown all the while. While towards the end director Jacques Richard has the film lagging in the section about Langlois and his work on the museum, overall he really delves deep into this wonderful man's life, and provides a great way in documentary form to introduce future film-buffs into what it means to really put yourself completely on the line for film. On top of this, what it means to be independent of the system and get your stuff shown through someone who wont brush someone off with a desire to display their art (the film the Dreamers put a good memory on the Cinematheque right at the start, though only briefly). Someone like Langlois, who was scruffy and boisterous and extremely intelligent and acute on anything film and preservation-related, also was great in how he wanted to look to the future just as much as looking to the past. Like any other print at the Cinematheque, this documentary deserves to be preserved too.