“Dynamic study of LE cell or Hargraves cell formation (diagnosis of acute systemic lupus erythematosus): action of antinuclear antibodies on neutrophil nuclei, chemotaxis of polynuclei (rosette formation), preferential phagocytosis of antibody-nucleus complex (LE cell formation).” (Description from the libraries of the Université de Montréal)
Directors | Raoul Kourlisky , Roger E. Robineaux |
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Who could have seen Formation de la cellule LE in the 1960s, in a dimly lit auditorium at the Université de Montréal or the Sorbonne, accompanied by the regular hum of 16mm and the dust in the voice of the optical sound, with this very clean recitation spouting out with the required whiteness of scientific neutrality: “The LE cell is constituted by a central homogeneous mass in a normal polynuclear cell, etc. etc.”? Who could have seen this film, and what did he or she think of it? Was this screening the source of a vocation, a passion, or a sudden drowsiness before the hypnotizing cytoplasmic vibratory movements that persist beyond phagocytosis, enveloped in the mucous membranes of this spongy black and white?
And all of us here, whose only knowledge of cell biology may be a nebulous memory of middle school, what are we to make of this drama, this tale of “formation” (a cell's Bildungsroman?) whose stakes are hard to determine on the chessboard of cellular morality: who are the good guys, who are the bad guys here? LE cells, polynucleosis cells, antibodies?
Doesn't this film inevitably fall into a kind of in-between category in scientific cinema? Too vulgar for the former, too expert for the latter? Could it be that this film is meant for no one at all, then? And so, as luck would have it, it's for anyone who'd like to take it on, give it a little time and attention, and find the opportunity to make something of it, that is, something other than what it was born or conceived for: an object of history, a poem, a horror film unfolding the scenario of a succession of terrible devourings.
It was here, in the early 1960s, more than 65 years ago, that this strange gem of microcinematography appeared, a little film completely forgotten, surely negligible, rediscovered thanks to an incalculable succession of chances, which shows us that we can still marvel at the explosive violence of the infinitely small.
André Habib
Professor · Université de Montréal
Department of Art History, Cinema, and Audiovisual Media
and Editor-in-Chief of Hors champ
Who could have seen Formation de la cellule LE in the 1960s, in a dimly lit auditorium at the Université de Montréal or the Sorbonne, accompanied by the regular hum of 16mm and the dust in the voice of the optical sound, with this very clean recitation spouting out with the required whiteness of scientific neutrality: “The LE cell is constituted by a central homogeneous mass in a normal polynuclear cell, etc. etc.”? Who could have seen this film, and what did he or she think of it? Was this screening the source of a vocation, a passion, or a sudden drowsiness before the hypnotizing cytoplasmic vibratory movements that persist beyond phagocytosis, enveloped in the mucous membranes of this spongy black and white?
And all of us here, whose only knowledge of cell biology may be a nebulous memory of middle school, what are we to make of this drama, this tale of “formation” (a cell's Bildungsroman?) whose stakes are hard to determine on the chessboard of cellular morality: who are the good guys, who are the bad guys here? LE cells, polynucleosis cells, antibodies?
Doesn't this film inevitably fall into a kind of in-between category in scientific cinema? Too vulgar for the former, too expert for the latter? Could it be that this film is meant for no one at all, then? And so, as luck would have it, it's for anyone who'd like to take it on, give it a little time and attention, and find the opportunity to make something of it, that is, something other than what it was born or conceived for: an object of history, a poem, a horror film unfolding the scenario of a succession of terrible devourings.
It was here, in the early 1960s, more than 65 years ago, that this strange gem of microcinematography appeared, a little film completely forgotten, surely negligible, rediscovered thanks to an incalculable succession of chances, which shows us that we can still marvel at the explosive violence of the infinitely small.
André Habib
Professor · Université de Montréal
Department of Art History, Cinema, and Audiovisual Media
and Editor-in-Chief of Hors champ
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