Le Roi lépreux

When bestselling novelist Pierre Benoit visited Angkor, the mysterious destination in the Cambodian jungle was an object of fascination-repulsion for many French writers. In his excellent essay on the ​‘rediscovery’of Angkor by Westerners, art critic Maxime Prodromides remarked that those visitors manifested a mix of disdain and envy towards the French archaelogists and architects laboring on site: they were actually dealing with stones and sweat, while being asked to politely escort self-important tourists through the ruins.

In this rather strange novel, the main character, Raphael Saint-Sornin, is a young, spoiled rake bizarrely appointed Head of the Angkor Conservation while he knows close to nothing of the ancient Khmer civilization. In fact, a rich and dashing American lady traveler, Maxence Webb, has to guide him through the Angkorean secrets, to lavishly decorate his humble Siem Reap residence and to teach him the pleasures of ménage à trois with an enigmatic and beautiful young dancer, nicknamed Apsara (starting with ​‘A’, like all major heroines in Benoit’s book.

This modern Apsara is in fact a Burmese princess protected by the Cambodian kings, and she is on an underground mission: restore the Burmese royalty by kicking the ghastly English invaders out of her country. Too happy to help against France’s arch enemy, Saint-Sornin and French officials give a hand to the projected insurgency in spite of the reticent EFEO administrators, but then the dilettante archaelogist is sent back to France. The narrator, Gaspard Hauser, will find him in an opulent villa in Nice, and stumble upon Maxence, now married to Saint-Sornin, and Apsara, who has then renounced her grand design to become, with the active help of the rich American, a successful art dealer trafficking ancient Khmer, Burmese and Southeast Asian sculptures and jewels.

Typically, real Cambodian characters are conspicuously absent from the scenery, and the hidden message of this literary fantasy becomes quite clear: the Khmer civilization is as dead as the ​‘Roi lépreux’ (Leper King), with its precious remains left to be grabbed by astute and selfish Westerners. A few years earlier, André Malraux had applied these prejudices to the sculptures of Banteay Srei.

Reviewing Benoit’s novel in Books Abroad (University of Oklahoma, Oct. 1927), Todd Downing noted that Pierre Benoit 

continues to vindicate his right to occupy the place of H. Rider Haggard as a narrator of strange adventures in out-of-the-way corners of the earth. The ruins of the mysterious city of Angkor — likewise described by Pierre Loti — furnish the setting for a tale of Orien- tal intrigue and Occidental love in his latest romance. ​“Le Roi lepreux” shows the same subtle mingling of fact and fancy and the same careful documentation as the best of his works, though again we miss the elusive spell of ​“I’Atlantide”, which remains his masterpiece. 

About the Leper King

The novel gives up a rather precise summary of what Khmerologists then thought of the statue set at the north-western corner of Angkor Thom Royal Palace (North-West being the direction assigned to reincarnation after death):

Nombreuses sont les hypothèses émises sur l’identité de ce personnage par les savants qui se sont consacrés à l’étude des antiquités khmères. C’est ainsi que Moura a vu dans la statue qui nous occupe une représentation du dieu des richesses, Kubera, qui était, comme on le sait, atteint de la lèpre. Pour Aymonier, ce serait, à n’en pas douter, l’image du roi Yaçovarman, fondateur d’Angkor-Thom. Commaille, par contre, est d’avis que l’artiste a voulu figurer le dieu Mahadeva, qui n’est autre que Çiva, adoré sous la forme d’un ascète des forêts. Groslier, sans se prononcer formellement, inclinerait plutôt vers l’hypothèse çivaïte. Nous éviterons de prendre parti dans une telle controverse. 

“Many hypotheses have been put forward by scholars dedicated to the study of Khmer antiquities regarding the identity of this figure. For example, [Jean] Moura saw in the statue in question a representation of Kubera, the god of wealth, who, as is known, suffered from leprosy. [Etienne] Aymonier, for his part, believes it is undoubtedly the image of King Yaçovarman, founder of Angkor Thom. [Jean] Commaille, on the other hand, is of the opinion that the artist intended to depict the god Mahadeva, who is none other than Shiva, worshipped in the form of a forest ascetic. [George] Groslier, without taking a formal stance, seems to lean more towards the Shaivite hypothesis. We will refrain from taking sides in such a controversy.” [p 7 – 8]

Research in Khmer history has since significantly developed, the most perceptive essay on ​‘Sdech Kumlong’, the leper king, being to date Prof. Ang Choulean’s chapter on Yama in The Angkorian World (2024).

1) Pierre Benoit, undated [from the film Pierre Benoit 1951. 2) Advertisement for Indochine Films&Cinemas [source: Entreprises Coloniales]

1) Pierre Benoit, undated [from the film Pierre Benoit 1951. 2) Advertisement for Indochine Films&Cinemas [source: Entreprises Coloniales]

The movie that was never made

In 1994, ICFC (Institut Culturel Français au Cambodge) screened the never-seen-before rushes shot by Belgian (naturalized French in 1928) pioneer cinematographer Jacques Feyder (1885 – 1948) in the Angkor region in 1927. The powerful images captured by a master of ​‘poetic realism’ were enhanced by a soundtrack specially recorded (and played live on the night of the screening) by the Royal Ballet orchestra, at the suggestion of the then Ministry of Culture, Nouth Narang.

After the resounding success met by his filmic adaptation of Pierre Benoit’s L’Atlandide (1921), shot in North Africa, Feyder was eager to visit and work in more countries, in particular in Asia, not as part of some colonial self-promotion but to explore new natural and human landscapes. In December 1926, as Benoit was completing his manuscript of Le roi lépreux, he sailed to Saigon, agreeing to direct a cinematographic project pn Angkor submitted to him by the Governor-General of Indochina and the Hanoi-based production company Indochine-Films-&-Cinémas.

Indochine-Films-&-Cinémas (IFEC) had been launcched in 1922 by Joseph Guyot de la Pommeraye (1877-Alexandria, Egypt, 1958, Marseille, married in 1908 to Lucie Hesse (1882−1916), and in 1919 to Cécile Générat (1886−1948)). In 1923, he had produced Kim-van-Kiêu, ​“the first entirely Indochinese movie”, and the Governor-General had entrusted him the production of all newsreels covering French Indochina. At a time commercial partner with Joseph Messner, he presided over the Société des grands hôtels indochinois from 192 to 1930. In addition to movie theaters, he took over the management of the Opera houses, a monopoly locally criticized. L’Écho annamite (14 Jan. 1926) sternly commented

Certes, M. de la Pommeraye a, sinon le génie, du moins le sens des affaires. Il était en voie de devenir le grand maître de nos divertissements. Et sans le scandale de la dernière saison théâtrale, il serait facilement arrivé à s’assurer un triple monopole : celui du cinéma, des orchestres, du théâtre et, peu s’en faut.., de la boxe ! Un fait typique et probant nous montre sur le vif son savoir-faire : c’est qu’après avoir touché la fameuse subvention de 80.000 $ — quatre-vingt mille dollars, messieurs ! — pour ses ténors aphones, il trouva encore le moyen d’élever le tarif des places, pensant faire ainsi la chose la plus naturelle du monde. [Monsieur de la Pommeraye admittedly possesses, if not genius, at least a keen business sense. He was on his way to becoming the grand master of our entertainment. And without the scandal of the last theatrical season, he would easily have secured a triple monopoly: that of cinema, orchestras, theater, and, not far off, boxing! A typical and telling example vividly demonstrates his expertise: after receiving the famous subsidy of $80,000 — eighty thousand dollars, gentlemen! — for his voiceless tenors, he still managed to raise ticket prices, thinking he was doing the most natural thing in the world.

In July 1929, de la Pommeraye hired as technical supervisor for all his cinematographic production G. Specht, who had started his career as Feyder’s assistant on L’Atlantide. He never commented publicly on what happened with Feyder in Cambodia in 1927 but fact is — Au pays du roi lépreux, the working title, was never completed and never released.
Researcher Michel Igout noted that after three months of work on location, and as Feyder was back to Paris in July, the second phase of filming, scheduled for October, never happened:

Feyder né retourna pas au Cambodge en octobre. Le film Au pays du roi lépreux né fut jamais tourné. Le documentaire resta le prélude d’une œuvre inachevée. Feyder né donna aucune explication à cet abandon et dans son livre de souvenirs, Le Cinéma, notre métier, il né fait aucune allusion à ce projet manqué. Et ce n’est finalement pas le moindre intérêt du documentaire que d’être devenu à son tour un vestige énigmatique et fascinant.

Que s’est-il passé exactement ? Durant le printemps et l’été 1927, rien né semble annoncer la fin prochaine du projet. […] Aucune contrainte technique né semble s’opposer à la réalisation du film. Selon le Bulletin international du Cinématographe (Quin, 1949), le devis de quatre millions fut d’abord accepté, puis finalement refusé. Le producteur aurait-il reculé devant la dépense ? On ignore les raisons exactes qui firent capoter le projet. Elles sont à l’évidence d’ordre financier et probablement à rechercher dans la disparition prématurée de Indochine-Film-Cinéma, ou dans les intrigues financières propres à la vie coloniale cochinchinoise.

Feyder did not return to Cambodia in October. The film In the Land of the Leper King was never shot. The documentary remained the prelude to an unfinished work. Feyder offered no explanation for this abandonment, and in his memoir, Cinema: Our Profession, he made no mention of the failed project. And ultimately, one of the documentary’s greatest strengths is that it has itself become an enigmatic and fascinating relic.

What exactly happened? During the spring and summer of 1927, nothing seemed to foreshadow the project’s imminent demise. […] No technical constraints appeared to stand in the way of the film’s completion. According to the International Bulletin of Cinematography (Quin, 1949), the four million franc budget was initially accepted, then ultimately rejected. Had the producer balked at the expense? The exact reasons for the project’s collapse remain unknown. They were clearly financial and likely stemmed from the premature demise of Indochine-Film-Cinéma, or from the financial machinations inherent in colonial life in Cochinchina. [Michel Igout, ​“Au pays du roi lépreux”, 1895, revue d’histoire du cinéma, 1998 (special issue ​“Jacques Feyder”): 109 – 121.

Feyder’s wife, Francoise Rosay, already a movie star, had also come to Cambodia, slated to play the main female character. One year later, end of 1928, the couple left for Hollywood, where they stayed until 1933. Feyder directed Greta Garbo in her last silent movie, The Kiss. Some colonial imbroglio had impeded Cambodia to gain an international exposure on the silver screen.