A couple of commenters to the post Backlot Benefits, noting Universal's new release of Henry Hathaway's The Trail of the Lonesome Pine, bring up the very unusual 1935 Peter Ibbetson, another Hathaway. My oh my. I remember seeing this as a child, when it aired on WOR Channel 9 one afternoon, and it blowing my little mind. The seemingly glacial pacing, the imagery like some gloomy 19th-century engraving come (barely) to life, the deliriously romantic-with-a-capital-"r" conceit of the story line (that true love could completely transcend time and space via the dream life)—it was all quite heady for a moony poetic little dope such as myself.
The film made a substantial impact on Surrealism majordomo André Breton back in the day, too. In his 1951 essay "As In A Wood" he writes, "What is most specific of all the means of the camera is obviously the power to make concrete the forces of love which, despite everything, remain deficient in books, simply because nothing in them can render the seduction or distress of a glance or certain feelings of priceless giddiness. The radical powerlessness of the plastic arts in this domain goes without saying (one imagines that it has not been given to the painter to show us the radiant image of a kiss). The cinema is alone in extending its empire there, and this alone would be enough for its consecration. What incomparable, ever scintillating traces have films like Ah! le beau voyage or Peter Ibbetson left behind in the memory, and how are life's supreme moments filtered through that beam!"
Varied internet searches turn up several options for films titled Le beau voyage, but zip for any with an "Ah!" preceding those words. Which adds an interesting note of mystery to Breton's reverie....
UPDATE: The brilliant and ever-resourceful Jonathan Rosenbaum solves the minor mystery of Ah! le beau voyage below, in comments.