
1932 · Jean Cocteau
How The Blood of a Poet has been received, argued over, and remembered.
Born under a cloud — its patron the Vicomte de Noailles had also bankrolled Buñuel's scandalous L'Âge d'Or the same year, and the fallout delayed its release — and sniffed at by the official Surrealists, who loathed Cocteau. Now it's the founding text of avant-garde film poetry, the one every experimental filmmaker gets measured against.
The eternal Cocteau fight: visionary poet who invented the dream-film, or a dazzling dilettante whose imagery is gorgeous self-mythologising — Letterboxd reviews still split right down that line.
The poet pushing through the mirror into another world is one of cinema's most-quoted images — the whole American avant-garde (Deren, Anger, and onward to music-video surrealism) lives downstream of this 50 minutes, and Cocteau's line that it's 'a realistic documentary of unreal events' still gets wheeled out constantly.
Locked-in avant-garde canon as part one of Cocteau's Orphic Trilogy — the 'you must have seen this' entry point for experimental film, more admired and studied than casually loved.