Intermediate Conversional French II
50.212. 201 - Winter Intersession & Spring 2003
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Intermediate Conversional French II 50.212. 201 - Winter Intersession & Spring 2003 |
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1. Ponette (1996) Jacques Doillon (97 mins.)The story of Ponette could be called
high-concept, summarized in a single sentence. "Four
year-old Ponette loses her mother in a car accident,
cannot accept her absence, waits for her to come back
from the dead." But this is not a simple concept like
"U.S. boxer Stallone beats the Russian champion."
Ponette's grief and her hopes for Maman's return do not
abate. It is understandable in a girl who thinks of her
beloved rag doll as a living creature. When the child's
loving father must go to Lyon on business, he leaves her
for some time with his sister-in-law and her two kids.
The little cousins, with alternating seriousness,
playfulness and teasing, tell her that dead is
dead:"Papi did not come backfrom the dead." Ponette's
wonderful, poetic reply :"It's because no one waited for
him." The solidly Catholic aunt has her own ideas about
Resurrection ("like Jesus") or the power of God.Symbolic
or contradictory abstractions confuse Ponette who firmly
believes that Maman will materialize. When Ponette's
father, an agnostic, returns, he is irritated at
Auntie's approach. "Dieu est pour les morts. Laisse-le
tranquille." ("God is for the dead. Leave Him alone.")Cut to a summertime boarding school in which
mostly children somewhat older than Ponette --all
extremely well observed and well played -- contribute
their own theories or advice. There is as well much
hilarious talk on subjects ranging from suppositories,
to what "single people" means and who/what are the Jews.
On all matters Ponette is referred to supervisor
Aur*lie, and to Jewish schoolmate Ada "who knows
everything." "How is it that Ada knows all about Jews?"
Answer: "Because Jesus was a Jew." Then comes an amusing
discussion which confuses Catholic, Arabs and Jews in
fanciful ways.The dialogue, naive, fresh, imaginative, is not
fabricated comic relief but typical of genuine talk of
French children who, like so many in France, possess an
astoundingly rich and grammatical vocabulary. The single
error here is when Ponette says "J'ai mal ˆ ma t*te"
instead of "J'ai mal ˆ la t*te."Aur*lie tries to help Ponette by introducing her
to prayer. Ada -- who says she is a Child of God -- and
pal Mathieu, want Ponette to become one. This entails
passing a number of physical tests. e.g. a five-minute
stay in a dumpster. With elegant kindness Ada times
this out after one minute. When Ponette sleeps, she
speaks to Maman who even visits her once. "She smelled
good." But as she is reaching utter despair, something
good and magical happens. I can only disclose that the
girl is "cured," accepts death's finality and starts out
on the road to anormal life. After a single viewing I am
still undecided: Is the ending hokey or is it a
convincing culmination of a child's imaginationSince 1972 writer-director Jacques Doillon has
made some 20 features, plus shorts and movies for
television. Though unknown in the U.S., he is much
admired in France for his original, intimate subjects
(many of them about young people), his skills with
actors, his ear and eye for real life, his sympathetic
and empathetic analyses and techniques. For example,
here the camera stay almost always on the girl, with
many closeups, yet smooth framing variations prevent
monotony.Doillon sent video crews to French preschools
all over. Four- and five-year-olds were taped in
interviews that elicited opinions on many topics,
including death. He then set up workshops, playing
games, talking, doing skits with the selected children.
This went on for six months. Then he wrote the
screenplay using the workshop dialogues, and cast the
children.The movie spends an absolute, minimal time on
adults and their backgrounds. In spite of
unspecifiedtimes and places there is no feeling of
incompleteness. The grownups screen is both necessary
and sufficient. The older people are the supporting cast
to the children, who themselves are the supporting cast
for Ponette. The story belongs to Ponette. Superbly
directed,Victoire Thivisol becomes as real as a
documentary shot by a hidden camera. Doillon, with no
maudliness, recreates a specific case among universal
traumas, in ways never quite seen before on the screen.
© by Edwin JahielA second film review by Damian Cannon.
There are few transitions more traumatic than
the loss of a parent, except perhaps the loss of both.
It doesn't matter whether the end comes in a rush or
extends for eternity, though the latter permits
preparation. It doesn't matter whether you're young or
old, though again the last allows a mature perspective.
When it happens the pain is unique and self-defining, a
psychic dismemberment. Time seals wounds with scar
tissue, but it can never dull the longing for one final
conversation. It's the loose ends that trip you up, the
trap of childhood; if you were never given the
opportunity to communicate your deepest feelings,
imagine how much stands unsaid.This is the territory mined by Ponette, a study
made remarkable by its intuitive, affecting script and a
brace of astonishing performances. At the centre we have
Ponette, a little girl who's just had her mother
snatched from mortal grasp. Ponette's father does his
best to trace the unembellished facts for her, all the
while coping with an unvented volcanic anger.
Unfortunately he works away from home, meaning that
Ponette must live and mourn with her aunt Claire.
Distanced from the tragedy, Ponette's cousins Matiaz
and Delphine are unable to comprehend or penetrate her
shell of grief.Related entirely from Ponette's perspective,
both physically and mentally, Ponette is dominated by
the 4-year old Thivisol. Present in almost every scene,
it's her guilt, pain and imagination that form our
journey. Yet Thivisol amazes for more than just being
the lead actress; her performance is textured, raw and
deeply uncomfortable. At times Thivisol melts from
self-assurance to vulnerability in an eye-blink, without
once passing through sentimentality. When Thivisol moans
"I want to talk to my mommy", this simple request is
charged with want, need, hope and love. It's a desire
that cuts right to the heart of our mother-dependence;
the one person to whom we can run to, drawing strength
and unconditional love from an embrace. Thivisol's
presence is beyond artifice, it simply is.Yet while Thivisol shines bright, all of the
child actors are superb, seemingly unaware of Caroline
Champetier's intimate lens. Each is natural, alive,
cunning, na•ve and trusting; qualities that any parent
comes to recognise in their own offspring. A great deal
of credit must, of course, be awarded to the dedicated
Jacques Doillon. Drawing upon his interviews with
thousands of nursery-school infants, Doillon pieces
together a unique interpretation of the death process.
The resulting script has an incredible feel for the
child mind, a place of uncompromising reality tempered
with absurdist confusion. This young brain has yet to
sort through the torrent of answers, assumptions and
interpolations pouring in through the senses; the film
captures this outlook with atomic precision, never once
betraying the presence of Doillon's guiding hand.Some may scoff at Ponette's engineered ending but
I think that, in the context of Ponette's emotional
imbalance, it strikes the right chord. Theentire story
builds to this moment, the ultimate validation of
youthful resilience; kids may be changeable and prone to
storm-like mood swings, but this awards them the ability
to bend rather than break. Ponette must achieve closure,
a resolution strong enough to cement doubts and troubles
into a manageable whole. She has had security ripped
away, a cruelty at any age and a double blow for a
child. The method by which she comes to terms with the
absolute of death, through which Ponette converses with
her mother, is neat, tidy and honest.From Ponette emerges a sense of symbiosis, a
fruitful relationship between Doillon's words and his
tiny cast. The elements are clumsy, unlikely and
insensitive but, in partnership, they convince in their
extreme depth of unforced emotion. Philippe Sarde's
subtle and appropriate score helps, though there's not
too much that you can do with this type of story. The
film succeeds, despite a slow start, because nothing
acts to trip our finely balanced belief; this tangible
agony is destined to register with anyone who has a
mother, making it all the more difficult to get right.
Doillon triumphs because he trusts his actors and his
research, allowing the film to travel further then even
he might ever have dreamed of. © Movie Reviews UK 1998--------------------------------------------------------
En guise dÕexamen final
Ceci est pour vous aider ˆ faire votre pr*sentation de
fin de cours, que vous diviserez en deux:
¥ pr*sentation orale de 5 ˆ 6 minutes pr*c*d*e d'un
r*sum* - synopsis - du film choisi
¥ suivie, si le temps le permet, dÕun vid*oclip
pertinent (relevant) de 4 ˆ 5 minutes maximum)
Voici, ˆ titre dÕexemple, comment vous pourriez
pr*senter Ponette.1. R*sum*
Ponette, une petite fille de quatre ans, ne
parvient pas ˆ accepter la mort tragique de sa m*re tu*e
dans un accident dÕauto. Ponette, elle, nÕa eu quÕun
bras cass*, ce qui explique son pl‰tre. Elle passe ses
journ*es ˆ attendre sa maman, envers et contre toutes
les tentatives des petits comme des grands pour lui
faire comprendre lÕirr*m*diable: sa m*re est morte et
enterr*e. Elle ne la verra plus. ÒDieu est pour les
morts. Laisse-le tranquille,Ó lui r*p*te son p*re.Avec cet argument tr*s simple, le r*alisateur,
Jacques Doillon, a r*ussi un film tr*s *tonnant. De
quelle mani*re? En ne faisant intervenir des adultes que
de temps en temps, en pla*ant la cam*ra presque
constamment ˆ la hauteur des enfants, et en mettant dans
leur bouche des dialogues qui semblent v*ritablement
leur appartenir. On suit ainsi la petite Ponette de tr*s
pr*s, dans ses conversations avec ses cousins et ses
amies, qui ont tous ˆ peu pr*s le m*me ‰ge, et dans ses
propres moments de solitude. Les enfants abordent
ensemble les questions les plus profondes, comme celle
de lÕabsence de Dieu, la diff*rence entre catholiques,
juifs et arabes, ce que cÕest quÕ*tre c*libataire, etc.
sans jamais donner lÕimpression dÕ*tre de petits
acteurs-singes et en montrant toute la tendresse et la
craut* dont ils sont capables les uns envers les autres.La merveilleuse et adorable Victoire Thivisol
porte le film sur ses toutes petites *paules, rendant
palpable et presque insoutenable lÕimmense chagrin de
son personnage. Heureusement, ce chagrin est apais* dans
une sc*ne finale, certes incroyable, diversement
appr*ci*e par la critique mais vivement souhait*e par le
spectateur plein d'empathie.Quelques notes explicatives:
¥ On notera que le r*alisateur a eu recours ˆ une
psychanalyste ˆ qui il avait demand* dÕobserver les
r*actions des enfants, celui de la petite Victoire (4
ans) en particulier. Si celle-ci manifestait quelque
signe de d*tresse, il arr*terait de tourner le film.
Selon la psychanalyste, les enfants *taient tr*s heureux
de jouer entre eux (between takes) et de Òjouer PonetteÓ
devant la cam*ra. Quant ˆ Ponette, qui doit faire Òcomme
siÓ sa m*re venait r*ellement de mourir, elle semble
avoir merveilleusement compris son r™le, quoiquÕon ne
sache pas grandÕchose de sa ÒtechniqueÓ ˆ produire des
larmes sur commande. Le directeur devait lui demander
dÕune fa*on s*v*re quand il voulait que celle-ci pleure.¥ Le r*alisateur insiste aussi pour dire que la sc*ne
finale de la Òr*surrectionÓ nÕ*tait pas son id*e mais
lui est venue des centaines dÕenfants quÕil a
interview*s en faisant ses recherches pour son film.2. Pourquoi jÕai choisi ce film?
¥ parce que cÕest un film, lent au d*part, qui me
paraissait facile ˆ suivre pour un d*but de cours, un
film qui plairait, je lÕesp*re, ˆ la majorit* dÕentre
vous, et pour lequel vous nÕauriez pas trop de
difficult*s ˆ r*pondre aux questions pos*es.
¥ parce que ce film est tout ˆ fait dans la tradition
fran*aise dÕexploration de lÕenfance et de
lÕadolescence, en particulier gr‰ce aux films de Ren*
Cl*ment (Jeux interdits), Truffaut (LÕargent de poche),
Louis Malle (Au revoir les enfants), Fantsen (La
fracture du myocarde), etc.
¥ parce que ce film vous expose ˆ une langue simple,
celle des enfants, une langue parl*e qui nÕexclut pas
cependant certains mots vulgaires, tels que ÒconneÓ pour
Òb*te / imb*cile / stupideÓ (jerk) ou Òse d*merderÓ au
lieu de Òse d*brouillerÓ (to manage).3. Essayez de dire votre r*action personnelle ˆ ce film:
¥ Je crois que jÕai tout aim* dans ce film, depuis le
jeu des ÒacteursÓ, qui ne paraissent pas *tre des
acteurs - celui extraordinaire de Ponette en
particulier - jusquÕˆ la musique discr*te dÕAlain Sarde
et la fa*on dont la directrice de la photographie (une
femme) a su contraster lÕintimit* des visages des
enfants avec lÕimmensit* du paysage environnant.
¥ JÕai beaucoup aim* les explications des enfants, ce
que cÕest quÕun juif, ce que cÕest quÕun arabe, ce que
cÕest quÕun c*libataire, ou encore que Mathiaz d*teste
les suppositoires alors que Victoire les adoreÉ
¥ Edwin Jahiel se demande si la fin du film est Òpour de
vraiÓ Òis the ending hokey or is it a convincing
culmination of a childÕs imagination?Ó Je nÕai pas *t*
surpris par la sc*ne finale de la r*surrection, qui
correspond ˆ ce que nous savions d*jˆ de lÕimaginaire de
Paulette (ÒOui, elle vole avec son miroir magique,Ó
r*pond-elle ˆ son p*re qui lui demande si elle sait ce
que cela veut dire que sa m*re est morte) et de tout ce
quÕelle a entendu dire sur la r*surrection de J*sus par
sa pieuse tante Claire.4. Dites aussi en quoi ce film est diff*rent des films
am*ricains auxquels vous pourriez le comparer, ou alors
semblable ˆ tel ou tel film que vous avez vu.
Dit dÕune fa*on globale, les films dÕHollywood montrent
les enfants de la fa*on dont les adultes les voient ou
d*sirent quÕils soient vus. Les films fran*ais, au
contraire, montrent plut™t les enfants tels quÕils sont
en eux-m*mes, et surtout du point de vue des enfants
eux-m*mes.5. Dites enfin ce que vous avez appris ou retenu et si
cÕest un film que vous recommanderiez ˆ vos amis.
¥ Ce que je retiendrai surtout cÕest lÕexemple que nous
donne ce film de la resilience (le fran*ais nÕa pas
dÕ*quivalent pour traduire en un seul mot Ôr*sistanceÕ
et Ô*lasticit*Õ, un mot emprunt* ˆ la physique ) des
enfants. Je retiendrai aussi la r*ponse r*confortante de
la m*re, laquelle donne sa finalit* au film, apporte la
consolation ˆ Ponette, et que Doillon souligne tout ˆ la
fin: ÒEssaie dÕ*tre heureuse.Ó
¥ CÕest certainement un film que je recommanderais ˆ mes
amis, quÕils soient catholiques ou agnostiques.--------------------------------------------------------
2. Mondo (1996) Written by J. Tony Gatlif. From a short
story by Jean-Marie Le Cl*zio - 4765The film is based on a short story by Jean-Marie Gustave
Le Cl*zio, the award-winning author of some 27 books,
who is considered by some to be a master of contemporary
French literature.Lisons d'abord l'histoire Mondo et autres histoires
(Texte de Jean-Marie Gustave Le Cl*zio, 1978)En voici quelques extraits pour notre lecture en classe
Personne n'aurait pu dire d'o* venait Mondo. Il *tait
arriv* un jour, par hasard, ici dans notre ville, sans
qu'on s'en aper*oive, et puis on s'*tait habitu* ˆ lui.
C'*tait un gar*on d'une dizaine d'ann*es, avec un visage
tout rond et tranquille, et de beaux yeux noirs un peu
obliques. Mais c'*tait surtout ses cheveux qu'on
remarquait, des cheveux brun cendr* qui changeaient de
couleur selon la lumi*re, et qui paraissaient presque
gris ˆ la tomb*e de la nuit.On ne savait rien de sa famille, ni de sa maison.
Peut-*tre qu'il n'en avait pas. Toujours, quand on ne
s'y attendait pas, quand on ne pensait pas ˆ lui, il
apparaissait au coin d'une rue, pr*s de la plage, ou sur
la place du march*. Il marchait seul, l'air d*cid*, en
regardant autour de lui. Il *tait habill* tous les jours
de la m*me fa*on, un pantalon bleu en denim, des
chaussures de tennis, et un T-shirt vert un peu trop
grand pour lui.Quand il arrivait vers vous, il vous regardait bien en
face, il souriait, et ses yeux *troits devenaient deux
fentes brillantes. C'*tait sa fa*on de saluer. Quand il
y avait quelqu'un qui lui plaisait, il l'arr*tait et lui
demandait tout simplement:Ç Est-ce que vous voulez m'adopter? È
Et avant que les gens soient revenus de leur surprise,
il *tait d*jˆ loin.Qu'est-ce qu'il *tait venu faire ici, dans cette ville ?
Peut-*tre qu'il *tait arriv* apr*s avoir voyag*
longtemps dans la soute d'un cargo, ou dans le dernier
wagon d'un train de marchandises qui avait roul*
lentement ˆ travers le pays, jour apr*s jour, nuit apr*s
nuit. Peut-*tre qu'il avait d*cid* de s'arr*ter, quand
il avait vu le soleil et la mer, les villas blanches et
les jardins de palmiers. Ce qui est certain, c'est qu'il
venait de tr*s loin, de l'autre c™t* des montagnes, de
l'autre c™t* de la mer. Rien qu'ˆ le voir, on savait
qu'il n'*tait pas d'ici, et qu'il avait vu beaucoup de
pays. Il avait ce regard noir et brillant, cette peau
couleur de cuivre, et cette d*marche l*g*re,
silencieuse, un peu de travers, comme les chiens. Il
avait surtout une *l*gance et une assurance que les
enfants n'ont pas d'ordinaire ˆ cet ‰ge, et il aimait
poser des questions *tranges qui ressemblaient ˆ des
devinettes. Pourtant, il ne savait pas lire ni *crire.
.../...
Ç Je voudrais que vous m'appreniez ˆ lire et ˆ *crire,
s'il vous pla”t È, dit Mondo.Le vieil homme restait immobile, mais il n'avait pas
l'air *tonn*.Ç Tu ne vas pas ˆ l'*cole? È
Ç Non monsieur È, dit Mondo.
Le vieil homme s'asseyait sur la plage, le dos contre le
mur, le visage tourn* vers le soleil. Il regardait
devant lui, et son expression *tait tr*s calme et douce,
malgr* son nez busqu* et les rides qui coupaient ses
joues. Quand il regardait Mondo, c'*tait comme s'il
voyait ˆ travers lui, parce que ses iris *taient si
clairs. Puis il y avait une lueur d'amusement dans son
regard, et il dit :Ç Je veux bien t'apprendre ˆ lire et ˆ *crire, si c'est
*a que tu veux. È Sa voix *tait comme ses yeux, tr*s
calme et lointaine, comme s'il avait peur de faire trop
de bruit en parlant.Ç Tu ne sais vraiment rien du tout ? È
Ç Non monsieur È, dit Mondo.
L'homme avait pris dans son sac de plage un vieux canif
ˆ manche rouge et il avait commenc* ˆ graver les signes
des lettres sur des galets bien plats. En m*me temps, il
parlait ˆ Mondo de tout ce qu'il y a dans les lettres,
de tout ce qu'on peut y voir quand on les regarde et
quand on les *coute. Il parlait de A qui est comme une
grande mouche avec ses ailes repli*es en arri*re; de B
qui est dr™le, avec ses deux ventres, de C et D qui sont
comme la lune, en croissant et ˆ moiti* pleine, et 0 qui
est la lune tout enti*re dans le ciel noir. Le H est
haut, c'est une *chelle pour monter aux arbres et sur le
toit des maisons; E et F, qui ressemblent ˆ un r‰teau et
ˆ une pelle, et G, un gros homme assis dans un fauteuil;
I danse sur la pointe de ses pieds, avec sa petite t*te
qui se d*tache ˆ chaque bond, pendant que J se balance;
mais K est cass* comme un vieillard, R marche ˆ grandes
enjamb*es comme un soldat, et Y est debout, les bras en
l'air et crie : au secours! L est un arbre au bord de la
rivi*re, M est une montagne; N est pour les noms, et les
gens saluent de la main, P dort sur une patte et 0 est
assis sur sa queue; S, c'est toujours un serpent, Z
toujours un *clair; T est beau, c'est comme le m‰t d'un
bateau, U est comme un vase. V, W, ce sont des oiseaux,
des vols d'oiseaux; X est une croix pour se souvenir.Avec la pointe de son canif, le vieil homme tra*ait les
signes sur les galets et les disposait devant Mondo.Ç Quel est ton nom ? È
Ç Mondo È, disait Mondo.
Le vieil homme choisissait quelques galets, en ajoutait
un autre.Ç Regarde. C'est ton nom *crit, lˆ. È
Ç C'est beau! È disait Mondo. Ç Il y a une montagne, la
lune, quelqu'un qui salue le croissant de lune, et
encore la lune. Pourquoi y a-t-il toutes ces lunes ? ÈÇ C'est dans ton nom, c'est tout È, disait le vieil
homme. Ç C'est comme *a que tu t'appelles.
.../...
C'est environ ˆ cette *poque-lˆ que Mondo avait
rencontr* Thi Chin, quand les journ*es *taient belles et
les nuits longues et chaudes. Mondo *tait sorti de sa
cachette du soir, ˆ la base de la digue. Le vent ti*de
soufflait de la terre, le vent sec qui rend les cheveux
*lectriques et fait br*ler les for*ts de ch*nes-li*ges.
Sur les collines, au-dessus de la ville, Mondo voyait
une grande fum*e blanche qui s'*talait dans le ciel.
.../..
Ç Qui es-tu? È demandait la voix aigu‘.Maintenant, devant Mondo, il y avait une femme, mais
elle *tait si petite que Mondo avait cru un instant que
c'*tait une enfant. Ses cheveux noirs *taient coup*s en
rond autour de son visage, et elle *tait v*tue d'un long
tablier bleu-gris.Elle souriait.
Ç Qui es-tu ? È
Mondo *tait debout, ˆ peine plus petit qu'elle. Il
b‰illait.Ç Tu dormais? È
Ç Excusez-moi È, dit Mondo. Ç Je suis entr* dans votre
jardin, j'*tais un peu fatigu*, alors j'ai dormi un peu.
Je vais partir maintenant. ÈÇ Pourquoi veux-tu partir tout de suite ? Tu n'aimes pas
le jardin ? ÈÇ Si, il est tr*s beau È, dit Mondo. Il cherchait sur le
visage de la petite femme un signe de col*re. Mais elle
continuait ˆ sourire. Ses yeux brid*s avaient une
expression curieuse, comme les chats. Autour des yeux et
de la bouche, il y avait des rides profondes, et Mondo
pensait que la femme *tait vieille.Ç Viens voir la maison aussi È, dit-elle.
Elle montait le petit escalier en demi-lune et elle
ouvrait la porte.Ç Viens donc! È
Mondo entrait derri*re elle. C'*tait une grande salle
presque vide, *clair*e sur les quatre c™t*s par de
hautes fen*tres. Au centre de la salle, il y avait une
table de bois et des chaises, et sur la table un plateau
laqu* portant une th*i*re noire et des bols. Mondo
restait immobile sur le seuil, regardant la salle et les
fen*tres. Les fen*tres *taient faites de petits carreaux
de verre d*poli, et la lumi*re qui entrait *tait encore
plus chaude et dor*e. Mondo n'avait jamais vu une
lumi*re aussi belle.La petite femme *tait debout devant la table et elle
versait le th* dans les bols.Ç Est-ce que tu aimes le th* ? È
Ç Oui È, dit Mondo.
Ç Alors viens t'asseoir ici. È
Mondo s'asseyait lentement sur le bord de la chaise et
il buvait. Le breuvage *tait couleur d'or aussi, il
br*lait les l*vres et la gorge.Ç C'est chaud È, dit-il.
La petite femme buvait une gorg*e sans bruit.
Ç Tu ne m'as pas dit qui tu *tais È, dit-elle. Sa voix
*tait comme une musique douce.Ç Je suis Mondo È, dit Mondo.
La petite femme le regardait en souriant. Elle semblait
plus petite encore sur sa chaise.Ç Moi, je suis Thi Chin. È
Ç Vous *tes chinoise ? È demandait Mondo. La petite
femme secouait la t*te.Ç Je suis vietnamienne, pas chinoise. È
Ç C'est loin, votre pays ? È
Ç Oui, c'est tr*s tr*s loin. È
Mondo buvait le th* et sa fatigue s'en allait.
Ç Et toi, d'o* viens-tu ? Tu n'es pas d'ici, n'est-ce
pas ? ÈMondo ne savait pas trop ce qu'il fallait dire.
Ç Non, je ne suis pas d'ici È, dit-il. Il *cartait les
m*ches de ses cheveux en baissant la t*te. La petite
femme ne cessait pas de sourire, mais ses yeux *troits
*taient un peu inquiets soudain.Ç Reste encore un instant È, dit-elle. Ç Tu ne veux pas
partir tout de suite ? ÈÇ Je n'aurais pas d* entrer dans votre jardin È, dit
Mondo. Ç Mais la porte *tait ouverte, et j'*tais un peu
fatigu*. ÈÇ Tu as bien fait d'entrer È, dit simplement Thi Chin. Ç
Tu vois, j'avais laiss* la porte ouverte pour toi. ÈÇ Alors vous saviez que j'allais venir? È dit Mondo.
Cette id*e le rassurait.Thi Chin faisait oui de la t*te, et elle tendait ˆ Mondo
une bo”te de fer-blanc pleine de macarons.Ç Tu as faim? È
Ç Oui È, dit Mondo. Il grignotait le macaron en
regardant les grandes fen*tres par o* entrait la
lumi*re.Ç C'est beau È, dit-il. Ç Qu'est-ce qui fait tout cet
or? ÈÇ C'est la lumi*re du soleil È, dit Thi Chin.
Ç Alors vous *tes riche ? È
Thi Chin riait.
Ç Cet or-lˆ n'appartient ˆ personne. È
Ils regardaient la belle lumi*re comme dans un r*ve.
Ç C'est comme cela dans mon pays È, disait Thi Chin ˆ
voix basse.Ç Quand le soleil se couche, le ciel devient comme cela,
tout jaune, avec de petits nuages noirs tr*s l*gers, on
dirait des plumes d'oiseau.ÈLa lumi*re d'or emplissait toute la pi*ce et Mondo se
sentait plus calme et plus fort, comme apr*s avoir bu le
th* chaud.Ç Tu aimes ma maison È demandait Thi Chin.
Ç Oui madame È, disait Mondo. Ses yeux refl*taient la
couleur du soleil.Ç Alors c'est ta maison aussi, quand tu veux. È
../...
Thi Chin lui donnait ˆ manger du riz et un bol de
l*gumes rouges et verts ˆ moiti* cuits, et toujours du
th* chaud dans les petits bols blancs. Quelquefois,
quand la nuit *tait tr*s noire, Thi Chin prenait un
livre d'images et elle lui racontait une histoire
ancienne. C'*tait une longue histoire qui se passait
dans un pays inconnu o* il y avait des monuments aux
toits pointus, des dragons et des animaux qui savaient
parler comme les hommes. L'histoire *tait si belle que
Mondo ne pouvait pas l'entendre jusqu'au bout. Il
s'endormait, et la petite femme s'en allait sans faire
de bruit, apr*s avoir *teint la lampe. Elle dormait au
premier *tage, dans une chamber *troite. Le matin, quand
elle se r*veillait, Mondo *tait d*jˆ parti.
.../..
Les ann*es, les mois et les jours passaient, maintenant
sans Mondo, car c'*tait un temps ˆ la fois tr*s long et
trop court, et beaucoup de gens, ici, dans notre ville,
attendaient quelqu'un sans oser le dire. Sans s'en
rendre compte, souvent, nous l'avons cherch* dans la
foule, au coin des rues, devant une porte. Nous avons
regard* les galets blancs de la plage, et la mer qui
ressemble ˆ un mur. Puis nous avons un peu oubli*.Un jour, longtemps apr*s, la petite femme vietnamienne
marchait dans son jardin, en haut de la colline. Elle
s'asseyait sous le massif de laurier-sauce o* il y avait
beaucoup de moustiques tigr*s qui dansaient dans l'air,
et elle avait ramass* un dr™le de caillou poli par l'eau
de mer. Sur le c™t* du galet, elle avait vu des signes
grav*s, ˆ demi effac*s par la poussi*re. Avec
pr*caution, et le cÏur battant un peu plus vite, elle
avait essuy* la poussi*re avec un coin de son tablier et
elle avait vu deux mots *crits en lettres capitales
maladroites: TOUJOURS BEAUCOUP © Gallimard, 1978On Mondo
One review
Mondo relates the parable of a 10-year-old homeless boy
who wanders onto the streets of Nice, France, one day
and proceeds to drift in and out of the lives of its
shopkeepers, panhandlers and street performers. TheÊ
film is luminously shot, imparting a dreamy, post-card
glow to the avenues, markets and docks of seaside
France. Mondo's greatest grace lies in its freedom from
the constraints of plot. Throughout its 80-minute run,
we are treated simply to a view of the world as seen
through the eyes of this mysterious child. And what a
world of small wonders it is: statues stare stone-eyed
in an abandoned park, dew drops glow like diamonds on
leaves, sunlight turns a kitchen table the color of
gold. Innocence is one of the most honest filters
through which we are able to perceive the world around
us. Gatlif spins a warm, inviting web around us by
showing not only what young Mondo sees, but how he sees
it. As Mondo goes about his daily rounds, he sees the
ugliness as well as the beauty that surrounds us:
dogcatchers hunt down strays, police harass illegal
immigrants. "Mondo" means nothing less than "the world,"
and perhaps that's exactly what Le Cl*zio's unadorned
little fable is trying to show us.By centering on the exploits of a wide-eyed waif, Mondo
could have wandered dangerously into the territory of
the cute and mawkish. ByÊ casting its protagonist
(11-year-old Rumanian gypsy Ovidiu Balan) as a
mysterious Peter Pan without a past, Mondo exudes the
surrealist air of a modern fairy tale. Thankfully, Mondo
imparts its moral without proselytizing. Everything in
Mondo is delivered "under the radar."Stepping out of the theater, though, you may find
your senses a little sharpened by the whole experience.
Your eyes may take in a little more of your environment.
Your mind may dwell a little longer on certain vistas.
Awareness is perhaps the first step in any sort of
understanding. Can we truly understand provincial
problems like homelessness or global problems like war
without first being aware of them?Ê It's hard for me to
imagine someone being immune to the charms of this
exquisite little gift of a film. Mondo is beautifully
shot, meticulously realized and perfectly acted by its
cast of nonprofessionals. In times to come, I am sure
that Mondo will be regarded as a cinematic classic. ©
Reviewed by Devin D. O'LearyAnother Review
All the performers are amateurs. Mondo is played by
Ovidiu Balan, a Rumanian gypsy about whom I know nothing
except that after the movie was made he and his family
[mother and grandmother] were deported back to Rumania.
He lives by what is commonly known as "his wits," but
without all the tricks and illegalities this expression
may imply. First he is seen at one of those great farmer
markets where he scrounges for discards. He sleeps
outdoors on the grass. (In a surreal sequences, he is
near statues of famous men and there's a voice-off
commentary. One of the busts is Balzac's). One of the
first locals he meets is a man on a bench, reading
Flaubert. Out of a blue sky the kid asks him "Will you
adopt me?" It's a brief, heart-rending moment that will
be repeated later to a passerby. (In both cases the boy
runs off). Mondo is curious, friendly, lovable. His
smile is infectious, irresistible. I would adopt that
boy without thinking twice about it. He then encounters
a kindly ex-sailor who is fishing, teaches the child,
discusses exotic ports with him, and later teaches him
the alphabet in the most ingenious way. In succession,
Mondo also meets aged Dadi (aka Dove Man, as he keeps
two birds) who is played by real homeless Scot; a
magician played by famous tighrope walker Philippe
Petit; an older woman, Thi Chin in her big house and
garden (of Eden?) who cares for him when he has a fever
and befriends him. Seeing her garb he asks "Are you
Vietnamese?" "No, I am a Jew born in Vietnam and I came
here years ago." The cast includes a Turkish Kurd woman,
a political refugee, who sings beautifully and adds to
the splendid variety of music here; a postman who is a
real postman; and other "real people."As Mondo explores the world around him, looks and
listens, asks questions, tries his first elevator, gets
soaked in rain and still scrounges for food, the persons
he comes in contact with are just about all kind,
including a bakery lady who repeatedly offers him bread.
There's something both subtle and obvious as Mondo is
placed in an environment of enticing French foods,
supermarkets, fresh fruit and vegetables--yet at times
has to get his sustenance from nature.Jean-Marie Le Cl*zio has found an ideal director in Mr.
Gatlif. Their collaboration results in something
entirely fresh, novel, yet in the great French tradition
of films in which children are seen with undertsanding,
love, realism but also imagination. As, for example, in
Jean Vigo's "Zero for Conduct" or in the films of
Fran*ois Truffaut and several filmmakers of all
periods. Is it an accident that a welfare officer says
that Mondo is "a wild child," the title of a Truffaut
movie? Or that in Truffaut's "The 400 Blows" the child
hero worships Balzac whose statue we see and who is also
the author of "Colonel Chabert," a name that appears on
a prospectus that the postman hands Mondo as "mail for
you"?The appeal, the warmth of the boy Mondo and of the
movie "Mondo" cannot be described. Tony Gatlif, the
filmmaker of Rom (Gypsy) lineage who made, among other
Rom-themed movies, "Latcho Drom," combines in with much
talent and in credible ways, fact and imagination,
emotion without sentimental schlock, selective realism
--extremely well photographed and edited --without
cheating. Mondo disappears as mysteriously as he had
appeared. His absence, like Gypsy magic, causes odd
perturbances. The last words of the film's are
voice-off: "We looked for Mondo everywhere. Then we
forgot a little." © [Extracts] by Edwin Jahiel
--------------------------------------------------------
3. Au revoir les enfants (Goodbye children) (1988)
Louis Malle 104 mins. - 2073Janvier 1944. Julien, 11 ans, est pensionnaire dans
une *cole catholique. Un jour, un nouvel *l*ve, Jean
Bonnet, arrive au coll*ge. Il est brillant, r*serv* et
semble cacher un lourd secret. Julien et Jean deviennent
amis.Louis Malle returns to the days of German occupation
during World War II to recount the story of the
friendship between two schoolboys, one Jewish and the
other Catholic.Au Revoir Les Enfants is a touching and nostalgic film
about the loss of innocence. Julien Quentin is an
awkward, fanciful adolescent who is sent by his doting
mother to a provincial Catholic boarding school. Set in
1940's war-torn France, there is an underlying sense of
hardship and uncertainty in this idyllic countryside:
German-patrolled streets, food rations, and air raids.
The children, oblivious to the crisis plaguing their
nation, react with contempt and cruelty at the adults
around them who are desperately trying (with their
extremely limited resources) to protect them. One day,
three new students are introduced to the class,
including an unassuming young man named Jean Bonnet.
Julien is initially envious of the silent, enigmatic
Jean, who seems to excel in everything he tries, but
gradually cultivates a friendship with him. They sneak
into the music room to play the piano, team up for a
treasure hunt in the woods (and subsequently, get
hopelessly lost), and secretly read Arabian Nights
(undoubtedly a pensive and literate adolescent's
erotica). However, there are also fragments of Jean's
actions whose significance eludes the naive Julien. It
is his moment of realization that shatters Julien's
innocence and has profound consequences for Jean. Au
Revoir Les Enfants is a visually stunning and
emotionally devastating story of innocence, friendship,
and regret.Quelques mots dÕabord pour situer le film dans son
contexte historique.Entre 1940 et 1944, la France a *t* envahie, puis
occup*e, par lÕAllemagne. Cette p*riode sÕappelle
lÕOcupation, durant laquelle le gouvernement du Mar*chal
P*tain, install* en zone libre ˆ Vichy, devient de plus
en plus soumis aux Allemands, en ce qui concerne en
particulier la d*nonciation des Juifs. Aussi choquant
que cela puisse para”tre, les Juifs fran*ais vivant en
France ou en Alg*rie nÕ*taient plus consid*r*s comme
citoyens fran*ais. Ainsi vous entendrez Gestapo Muller
dire aux enfants ˆ propos de Jean Bonnet: ÒCe gar*on est
un Juif; il nÕest pas fran*ais.) De plus, les jeunes
Fran*ais qui avaient vingt ans en 1944 *taient dans
lÕobligation dÕaller travailler en Allemagne au titre de
STOs (Service du Travail Obligatoire). De nombreux
jeunes refus*rent dÕob*ir et durent se cacher (exemple
de Moreau, le moniteur dÕ*ducation physique.)Quelques mots d'introduction: L'enfance, l'adolescence
et la transition difficile ˆ l'‰ge adulte sont des
th*mes constants dans l'oeuvre de Louis malle.Th*se de l'omnipr*sence du mal et l'*quivalence de ses
manifestations : que ce soit au fonds des bois, lorsque
les deux gar*ons sont perdus et que Bonnet demande s'il
a des loups dans cette for*t ; ou encore le mal de
lÕAllemagne nazie et de sa Gestapo (la police politique
du troisi*me Reich) pers*cutant les Juifs.Le centre moral du film reste avec le pr*tre, le
directeur de l'*cole, le P*re Jean. Les deux d*cisions
cruciales du film sont siennes: d'abord de cacher Bonnet
et les deux autres gar*ons juifs sous des faux noms;
ensuite, deuxi*mement, de punir Joseph, le gar*on de
cuisine infirme qui fait du march* noir avec plusieurs
gar*ons, dont Julien, tout en ne mettant pas ˆ la porte,
par consid*ration envers leurs parents, ses complices
parmi les *l*ves (une discrimination dont l'injustice
lui cause une peine *vidente.) Nous le voyons aussi
refuser la communion ˆ Bonnet, sans crainte de le
distinguer des autres ; nous voyons *galement comment il
pr*che contre la duret* dc riches dans son sermon le
jour de la f*te des parents ; nous le voyons encore
rejeter l'int*r*t que manifeste Julien pour la pr*trise:
ÒJe ne crois pas que vous ayez la vocation. De toute
fa*on, c'est un fichu m*tier.ÓBien qu'il y ait une forte touche de recherche
autobiographique dans Au Revoir les enfants, ce nÕest
pas une oeuvre d'autobiographie pure. "Mon imagination a
utilis* la m*moire comme tremplin. J'ai r*invent* le
pass*, par delˆ la reconstruction historique, ˆ la
recherche d'une v*rit* ˆ la fois intemporelle et
insistente. A travers les yeux de ce petit gar*on qui me
ressemble, j'ai essay* de red*couvrir cette premi*re
amiti*, la plus forte, qui a *t* d*truite si brutalement
et cette premi*re rencontre avec le monde absurde des
adultes, avec toute sa violence (la guerre) et ses
pr*judices (le racisme, la haine et la pers*cution des
Juifs par les Nazis."Faites attention, presque ˆ la fin du film, ˆ la br*ve
sc*ne o Julien, regardant dans la direction de Jean
Bonnet, est vu par l'officier allemand, (Gestapo
Muller), par lˆ = de cette mani*re, accidentellement,
involontairement, trahissant son ami juif, (de son vrai
nom Hans = Jean Helmut Michael, qui mourut plus tard ˆ
Auschwitz. "Je ne me suis jamais remis, dit Malle, de
cet incident (i.e. de cette trahison accidentelle). Je
suis encore un enfant... et je crois que le passage de
l'enfance ˆ l'adolescence est le moment le plus
int*ressant dans la vie d'une personne."Malle a fait de son mieux pour rendre toute l'authencit*
de l'atmosph*re durant ce mois de janvier 1944, quand
l'hiver fut extr*menent s*v*re, exemple l'absence de
soleil et l'utilisation de "couleurs sans couleur".Malle a fait en sorte *galememt pour que son film *vite
toute forme de manich*isme, (bien oppos* au mal / good
versus evil ), ˆ savoir que les Fran*ais seraient tous
bons et que les Allemands seraient tous mauvais. A ses
yeux donc, la religieuse de lÕinfirmerie o* N*gus est
cach* sous les draps est ˆ ses yeux aussi mauvaise que
Joseph qui a d*nonc* le P*re Jean aux autorit*s de
lÕOccupation. Vous remarquerez *galement comment le
jeune officier allemand ordonne ˆ la milice (donc ˆ des
soldats fran*ais) qui collaboraient avec les Allemands.
de laisser tranquille Monsieur Meyer, le vieux monsieur
juif rencontr* au restaurantVous noterez *galement que le film commence sur une
image de Julien alors quÕil quitte Paris pour le coll*ge
et se termine sur un autre gros-plan de Julien, larmes
aux yeux, disant au revoir ˆ son ami. Ceci pour
signifier que du d*but ˆ la fin du film, il sÕagit bien
de SON histoire.Note: Vous remarquerez quÕil d*die ce film ˆ ses trois
enfants. Louis Malle, qui *tait le mari de Candice
Bergen, est mort du cancer en 1995.A Film Review by Manavendra K. Thakur
Every detail of the events on January 15, 1944, has
become etched into Louis Malle's memory. On that tragic
day, an 11-year-old Louis Malle and his fellow students
in a Catholic school fifty miles south of Paris watched
as the local Gestapo chieftain arrested three of their
Jewish classmates along with Father Jacques, the
school's headmaster who had hidden the Jewish boys for
over a year.Now, more than forty years later after the Nazis sent
the four to their deaths, Louis Malle shares this most
intimate and troubling memory of his childhood in AU
REVOIR LES ENFANTS, which he wrote, produced, and
directed. No other filmmaker in recent memory has bared
his or her soul to the bone more movingly and more
convincingly than Louis Malle has done in this film. By
focusing his film only on the specific events he
witnessed that led up to that fateful day, Louis Malle's
film becomes the rarest of rarities: a film that is
intensely personal and deeply moving, yet does not
degenerate into vacuous melodrama or political polemic.
The simple and unrelenting honesty of his film
transforms Louis Malle's personal catharsis into an
experience of universal and profoundly human dimensions.Literally, the title refers to the farewell that Father
Jacques (renamed Father Jean in the film) utters to the
students as he's being led away by the Germans, but
metaphorically it heralds the end of Louis Malle's own
childhood innocence. Through the eyes of Julien
Quentin, Louis Malle depicts his introduction to the
harsh realities from which his upper-middle class
background had sheltered him. The loss of innocence
begins in the very first scene as Julien prepares to
board the train that will take him to the school. He
can't stand the thought of leaving Paris, and he tells
his mother that he hates her for making him go. Her
response is to hug and kiss him. It is a poignant
moment, but Julien's outburst points to the tensions
that have already been created within him by the war,
tensions that will develop and express themselves later.From there, the film shifts to the school itself, where
Julien forgets about the outside world and goes about
being a studious and playful seventh grader. He reads
novels after hours with a flashlight, plays pranks on
other children, and cavorts on stilts in the schoolyard
during recess. During these scenes, Louis Malle creates
an almost perfect aura of boarding school life, complete
with the children's token adherence to religious rituals
and gripes about the food being good only when parents
come to visit. By relying on the natural responses of
his young actors, Malle captures youthful bravados and
mannerisms with the same astounding resonance of
Fran*ois Truffaut's THE 400 BLOWS, and indeed a scene of
the schoolchildren marching through the streets creates
a powerful sense of d*jˆ vu.What primarily distinguishes Louis Malle's depiction
from the spate of recent coming-of-age films, however,
is that Julien is neither a child claiming to be an
adult nor an adult pretending to be a child. When the
three young boys arrive at the school, one of them, Jean
Bonnet is assigned the bed next to Julien's. Julien acts
just as a typical tough kid would: he introduces himself
by saying "I'm Julien. Don't mess with me." But while he
joins in the boys' pranks and teasing, Julien also finds
himself intrigued by the quiet, reserved manner in which
Jean bears all the abuse. Little by little, a shaky
friendship with numerous ups and downs develops between
them. Their friendship becomes cemented when the two
find themselves lost in the woods as they search for a
treasure during a scouting game. Frightened and cold,
they are found on a highway by three soldiers on patrol
in a jeep, who return them to the school. What Julien
can't understand is why Jean tried to run when he
realized that the soldiers were German. After Julien
discovers that Jean's real last name is Kippelstein, he
eventually realizes that Jean is Jewish -- but even then
has to ask his brother what it means to be Jewish.
Julien is now at a seminal point in his maturity, where
he cradles an already emerging adult awareness with his
yet potent youthful exuberance.Louis Malle's heartfelt construction of this child/adult
balance is at the core of the film's success. By the end
of the film, the viewer does not merely sympathize with
the two boys as the Gestapo make their arrests at the
school. Rather, the audience empathizes so thoroughly
with the two boys' experience that their ordeal becomes
the viewer's as well. The film's final shots convey the
full emotional weight of the bond between Julien and
Jean that has been so sharply cut, but those shots do
not degenerate into tearjerker sentiment because the
audience feels the hurt caused by the arbitrariness and
extent of the Nazi's evil as though it had been aimed
personally against the viewer. Few films manage to link
its characters with the audience so closely as Malle's
convincing and even-handed portrayal of the array of
human weaknesses and strengths.And Malle gives the film a tremendous thematic scope to
the film as well as depth, which contributes further to
Julien's loss of innocence. Joseph, an orphan who works
in the school's kitchen, runs a black market where the
children can trade their food from home for cigarettes
and dirty books. When the scam is discovered, Joseph is
fired while the students who collaborated with him are
merely reprimanded due to their family prestige. Joseph
repays this acknowledged injustice by the same act that
Louis Malle explored in his 1974 film LACOMBE LUCIEN,
and it is just as inexplicable and appropriate here as
it was in that film. Julien cannot believe his eyes
when he discovers what his friend has done.In another scene, Jean Bonnet joins Julien and his
family for a Sunday lunch outing. While they are eating,
two French militiamen enter and begin to harass an
elderly distinguished gentleman who is in the restaurant
illegally. While most of the patrons grumble some
support for the gentleman, it is none other than a Nazi
officer who seizes the initiative and throws the
militiamen out. The enormous moral implications about
the acquiescence to evil begin to dawn on Julien (and
the audience) when a surprised diner's exclamation that
not all Germans are bad is immediately followed by a
cynical comment that the Nazi officer was really just
grandstanding in front of Julien's attractive mother.
Jean, meanwhile, remains still as a mouse; he's seen it
all before, and he displays virtually no sign of how
quietly desperate his life has become.It is through repeated scenes such as these that Louis
Malle establishes unique and moral complexities within
which Julien comes of age. Watching Julien explore these
contradictions is never tiresome -- even though the
audience knows in advance the inevitable outcome --
because o the natural and believable ensemble
performances. Louis Malle likes to work with
inexperienced young actors, and in this film, he draws
upon thei natural inclinations and reactions so
masterfully that the distinction between actor and
character is erased. Louis Malle's film creates not a
flat stage for the actors to work on, but rather a fully
articulated and three-dimensional world for the
characters to inhabit and live in. The balance between
the narrative and its context is impeccable.It is quite fortunate that Louis Malle waited all these
years to make this film because the perspective gained
from that experience enabled him to crystallize all his
humanity and all his filmmaking skills into a solid film
that defies trivialization or dismissal. And because he
has fictionalized certain scenes and details while
remaining thoroughly true to what he calls "the most
tragic memory of my childhood," his film involves the
audience in a manner that no documentary or polemic
could hope to equal. Louis Malle has shown that despite
the staggering amount that has been written already,
there yet remains much to say and remember about the
horrors of the Nazi era. One has to return to THE GRANDE
ILLUSION, THE SEVEN SAMURAI, and the films of Ingmar
Bergman and Satyajit Ray to find similarly moving
portraits of the human condition. A film like AU REVOIR
LES ENFANTS arrives only rarely, a precious event that
will be remembered for years to come by those who
witness its birth. © Manavendra K. Thakur
--------------------------------------------------------4. Romuald et Juliette (Mama, There is a Man in your Bed
) Coline Serreau - 3392A white man, Romuald, who is an executive at a
yogurt company falls in love with Juliette, the black
woman who cleans his office. She has five children, all
by different husbands, and does not have enough money to
pay the rent. He has a beautiful wife, a beautiful
girfriend, and children who are driven to school by a
chauffeur. Together, the two solve a nasty office
politicsintrigue; and despite the coincidence of their
names, these two lovers do not end up committing suicide
side by side.ÒThis hilarious comedy from the writer and director
of the original Three Men and a Baby tells of the rise,
fall and rise again of the powerful C.E.O. of a major
corporation. At the peak of his powers, Romuald becomes
the victim of envious board members who plan a takeover,
framing Romuald for insider trading. But RomualdÕs
rivals have an unexpected adversary and Romuald has an
unexpected friend ? the cleaning lady Juliette.
Juliette, working late at night, has witnessed just
enough to piece together the conspiracy against
Romuald. She offers to help him and together they
conspire to take back his company. Romuald hides out in
JulietteÕs cramped apartment and before long finds
himself caught up in the complexities of JulietteÕs life
including her five children and five ex-husbands. With
her help, it doesnÕt take Romuald long to stab the
back-stabbers back and regain his place in the company.
But happiness for Romuald is incomplete without the
cleaning lady who won his heart ? and won back his
company ? so Romuald proposes a merger, a merger of
love. ItÕs a contract heÕll never regret.ÓColline Serreau, who came out of the 1968 protest
tradition, uses the same light touchthat she perfected
in her smash hit, "Three Men and a Cradle", to get her
concerns about racism and social injustice across with
sublety. Time Magazine said, "By film's end any skeptic
will believe that natural combatants - rich and poor,
white and black, man and woman can be made gracious
allies. It takes just a little goodwill and a very good
film."... ou en fran*ais:
Ils n'*taient pas faits pour se rencontrer.
Romuald est le P-DG [Pr*sident Directeur G*n*ral] de
"Blanlait", une grande entreprise de produits laitiers.
Il *volue dans un univers mesquin o* l'argent fait la
loi et r*gle les rapports. Il n'est ni pire ni meilleur
que ses coll*gues. C'est un jeune loup avide de pouvoir.
Sa vie personnelle est bas*e sur l'hypocrisie : il
trompe sa femme et elle fait de m*me, mais tous les deux
font comme si de rien n'*tait. Juliette Bonaventure fait
le m*nage apr*s la fermeture des bureaux. Elle est
noire, elle n'est plus tr*s jeune, elle a cinq enfants,
de cinq maris diff*rents, qu'elle *l*ve seule dans un
deux-pi*ces ˆ Saint-Denis. Leurs trajets sont
absoluments parall*les pendant tout le d*but du film.
Mais quelque chose est pourri chez Blanlait : il y a des
all*es et venues bizarres la nuit, des chuchotements au
t*l*phone. Juliette surprend des bribes de dialogues,
ramasse des petits papiers qui tra”nent (apr*s tout,
c'est son boulot) et finit par reconstituer la
conspiration dans sa t*te: tout le monde trompe Romuald,
tout le monde veut se d*barrasser de lui, ˆ commencer
par sa femme et jusqu'ˆ ses subalternes. Et puis, un
jour, (ou plut™t un soir), elle d*cide d'en souffler
deux mots ˆ son patron. Lui commence par la prendre pour
une folle puis, quand la situation devient vraiment
coriace et qu'il est accus* de d*lit d'initi* (insider
trading), c'est chez elle qu'il trouvera refuge, toutes
les autres portes lui *tant ferm*es. Et lˆ, dans une HLM
[habitation ˆ loyer mod*r*] de banlieue, Romuald, avec
l'aide de Juliette, va pr*parer sa vengeance.Le corps de Juliette est ainsi introduit dans
la vie de Romuald et dans le r*cit par l'entr*e de
service. Pour occuper de plus en plus de place ; elle
n'a rien d'une cr*ature de r*ve. Et pourtant elle va
s'av*rer bien mieux que *a : c'est une force de la
nature. Firmine Richard s'impose dans le champ comme le
nez au milieu du visage, sa carrure, son accent, ses
coups de gueule, sa m*fiance face au monde et (pourquoi
pas?) ˆ la cam*ra, sa tendresse font d'elle le premier
extra-terrestre du cin*ma fran*ais. Face ˆ elle, Daniel
Auteuil a la d*licatesse de rester un peu en retrait
pour attendre le moment o* elle va se d*cider, enfin, ˆ
l'apprivoiser. Et *a marche! Ce qui devrait les r*unir
n'est plus un coup de force de sc*nario, mais quelque
chosee d' in*vitable.Ce qui fait la force du syst*me Serreau, ce
n'est pas tellement d'imposer aujourd'hui un couple
improbable au sein du cin*ma fran*ais. Mais d'affirmer
noir sur blanc sa croyance ˆ quelque chose qui va
au-delˆ du "boy meets girl", quelque chose qui serait de
l'ordre de l'utopie. Les cons*quences narratives de la
rencontre d'un P-DG [Pr*sident- Directeur G*n*ral] et
d'une femme de m*nage noire d*passent les limites de la
formation d'un couple pour prendre l'ampleur du mythe,
ce vieux mythe soixante-huitard revu et corrig* par SOS
Racisme, o* tout le monde se retrouve dans une grande
f*te d*di*e ˆ la fertilit*, tous sexes, toutes classes
et toutes races confondus. © Iannis Katsahnias
--------------------------------------------------------5. Tatie Danielle (1990) - Etienne Chatiliez
Meet the meanest old lady on earth. She Tatie
Danielle, a demanding and manipulative woman who must be
waited on hand and foot. When she moves in with her
great nephew, he and his wife hope that Tatie will be
the grand mother the children never had. It doesn't take
long, however, for this cantankerous old lady to make
everyone's life hell....ou en fran*ais:
Tatie Danielle est une vieille dame acari‰tre qui
martyrise sa bonne Odile dans sa trop grande maison
remplie de souvenirs. Elle ne semble retrouver de la
tendresse que lorsqu'elle s'adresse ˆ son mari d*funt et
ˆ son chien, qui r*pond au nom de "Garde ˆ vous". Pour
toute famille, Tatie Danielle a des neveux et ni*ces
tr*s gentils, qu'elle m*ne par le bout du nez: Jeanne et
son fr*re Jean-Pierre. Jeanne est c*libataire tandis que
Jean-Pierre est mari* ˆ Catherine et est p*re de deux
gar*ons. Tatie Danielle justement s'en va vivre aupr*s
d'eux, leur rendant la vie insupportable: elle perd le
petit gar*on de la famille, elle maltraite le chien,
elle critique la cuisine et fait pipi au lit. Lorsqu'ils
partent en vacances organis*es en Gr*ce, elle est gard*e
par Sandrine. Lorsqu'elle est plac*e en maison de
retraite, elle s'en *chappera pour aller la rejoindre.
Tatie Danielle est parfois si affreuse avec ses neveux
que c'en est jouissif!A film review by Ginette Vincendeau
Auntie Danielle is an elderly widow living in the
provincial town of Auxerre. She is mean and tyrannical
towards her aged maid Odile, and she heartily dislikes
her relatives (great-nephew Jean-Pierre Billard, his
wife Catherine and their two sons, Jean-Christophe and
Jean-Marie, as well as Jean-Pierre's sister Jeanne). She
confides her thoughts aloud to a portrait of her
deceased husband Edouard. When Odile dies from a fall
for which Danielle is partly responsible, the latter
goes to live with her family in Paris.The Billards' patience is sorely tried by life with
Danielle, who hates the food they give her, is bored by
the outings they organize, scoffs at gifts and wilfully
loses their younger son in a park. The war of attrition
escalates: Danielle makes herself sick on purpose and
wets her nightgown in the presence of the Billards'
dinner party guests. When the Billard family goes on
holiday to Greece, a home help, Sandrine, is hired to
look after the old woman. Danielle tries to bully
Sandrine into submission, but soon discovers that her
tactics do not work.Sandrine and Danielle strike up a friendship of sorts,
though Danielle refuses Sandrine's request for a night
off Sandrine goes out all the same and, out of spite,
Danielle wrecks the apartment, smears herself with
filth, eats dog food and sets the place on fire.
Rescued, she becomes an overnight celebrity, while her
relatives (still in Greece) are branded on TV and by the
neighbours as uncaring monsters. After the scandal dies
down, Danielle is sent to an old people’s home, where
she tyrannizes other female inmates. One Sunday,
however, she vanishes; she and Sandrine are discovered
having a great time at a skiing resort.In the late 60s, Simone de Beauvoir wrote: "Old age is a
problem on which all the failures of society converge.
And this is why it is so carefully hidden." Times are
changing, it seems, when a 1990 mainstream French comedy
can tackle old age head-on via a cantankerous
eighty-two-year-old heroine who behaves spectacularly
badly, Tatie Danielle is the second feature by Etienne
Chatiliez, the director of the hugely successful "La Vie
est un long fleuve tranquille" (Life Is a Long Quiet
River). This is not the quaint and romantic France so
beloved of the British: people eat frozen
convenience-foods, watch American soaps dubbed into
French, read Barbara Cartland, and go on holiday in a
Club-Med-type village in Greece complete with
"reconstructed Cretan chapel".Yet for French audiences, Tatie Danielle hits many
familiar sore spots, such as the legendary meanness of
the French provincial bourgeoisie and their obsession
with inheritance, explored in literature since Balzac.
The hypochondria of a medicine-obsessed,
doctor-worshipping nation ("You know the doctor says no
sugar") is touched on, as are racist habits like
training dogs to attack black postmen. Most sensitive of
all, the film tackles the issue of how an increasingly
aging population is to be dealt with, given the
vicissitudes of hectic urban life: in other words, what
is to be done with inconvenient grannies (and dogs). The
dog is disposed of in classic Parisian fashion by being
left by the roadside. As for the granny, her destiny
appears to be the old people’s home with its horror
stories of emotional deprivation and out of control
bodily functions.This bleak and unflattering picture is unusual in French
comedies, which have by and large invoked the nostalgic
and the cute rather than the grotesque (as in the work
of Jacques Tati, for example, or recent films like
"Trois hommes et un couffin" (Three Men and a Cradle)
and "Romuald et Juliette". Etienne Chatiliez, however,
touches on aspects of social reality most of us would
rather not see on the screen, while still being
extremely funny. This comedy - for instance, in the
moment when Sandrine slaps Danielle, and in the scenes
in the old people's home - has affinities with the
post-68 vitriolic humour of cartoonists like Reiser, who
drew memorably mean OAPs [Old-Age Pensioner] and
alcoholic wrecks. And yet, in the end, cuteness
resurfaces, in the fantasy ending, for instance, or in
the occasional transformation of Danielle from vile
'bitch' to the naughty girl who eats too many cream
cakes and makes faces behind people's backs.More fundamentally, Chatiliez's decision to extend the
film's derision to all the characters, leaving no
positive point of identification - except possibly the
working-class Sandrine - defuses the impact of his
satire. It is also unfortunate that the mockery, often
very precise and sociological, as with the Billards'
petit-bourgeois tastes (their clothes, their passion for
trendy cuisine, their language), has its reactionary
side in, for instance, the treatment of the older son's
homosexuality.Ultimately, the film cannot decide whether Danielle is
an ungrateful virago, the bane of a well-meaning (if
silly) family, or a subversive vieille dame indigne, an
unruly older woman who flies in the face of convention.
The ending, in which Danielle is rescued from the old
people's home by Sandrine, seems to favour the latter
interpretation, but the rest of the film does not really
support this. There is little explanation offered as to
why an old woman should behave in such a manner, even
though this is a film scripted by a woman and almost
entirely played out between women, in which men are
either dead (Danielle's husband) or absent from the
screen. Catherine is seen at work in her beauty parlour
(where she specializes in hair removal), for example,
but her husband is not. It is the women who discuss, and
tackle, the problem of caring for the elderly.There are hints that sexual frustration, alluded to in
the words of the song heard over the titles, the "Ballad
of an Old Bitch" and echoed in her passion for Barbara
Cartland novels and TV soaps, may be one cause for
Danielle's behaviour. In the old people's home near the
end, the image of Danielle gazing out of the window for
hours chimes with earlier shots of her peering from
behind her curtains at the outside world, evoking a
wasted life of appalling emotional isolation. Despite
its upbeat ending, this dark quality casts enough of a
shadow to make Tatie Danielle bitter rather than sweet.
© Ginette VincendeauTatie Danielle [en traduction]
Tatie Danielle est une veuve ‰g*e qui habite [= vivant]
ˆ Auxerre (ville de province). Elle est m*chante et
tyrannique envers sa vieille bonne Odile et elle d*teste
[de tout son coeur] sa famille [*loign*e], (son
petit-neveu Jean-Pierre Billard, sa femme et leurs deux
fils, Jean-Christophe et Jean-Marie, ainsi que Jeanne,
la soeur de Jean-Pierre). Elle confie tout haut (= ˆ
haute voix) ses pens*es ˆ un portrait de son mari
d*funt, Edouard. Quand Odile meurt d'une chute pour
laquelle Tatie Danielle est en partie responsable,
celle-ci part habiter ˆ Paris avec sa famille.La patience des Billard est s*v*rement mise ˆ l'*preuve
avec Danielle, qui d*teste la nourriture qu'ils lui
servent, qui s'ennuie lors des sorties qu'ils organisent
pour elle, qui se moque des cadeaux et qui perd
d*lib*r*ment leur plus jeune fils dans un jardin public.
La guerre d'attrition escalade: Danielle se rend malade
expr*s et souille [mouille] sa chemise de nuit en
pr*sence des invit*s ˆ diner des Billard. Quand la
famille part en vacances en Gr*ce, une aide familiale,
Sandrine, est embauch*e pour s'occuper de la vieille
femme. Danielle essaie d'intimider Sandrine ˆ la
soumission, mais elle d*couvre vite que sa tactique ne
marche pas.Sandrine et Danielle se lient plus ou moins d'amiti*.
Bien que Danielle refuse ˆ Sandrine sa demande d'[avoir]
une nuit de cong*, celle-ci sort quand m*me et, par
d*pit et malveillance, Danielle d*truit appartement, se
couvre de salet*, mange de la nourriture ˆ chien et met
le feu ˆ l'habitation. Sauv*e, elle devient du jour au
lendemain, une c*l*brit*, alors que son neveu et sa
ni*ce (toujours en Gr*ce) sont stigmatis*s ˆ la t*l* et
par leurs voisins comme des monstres sans coeur. Apr*s
que le scandale a diminu* / une fois que le scandale
s'est apais*, Danielle est envoy*e dans une maison de
retraite, o* elle tyrannise les autres femmes
pensionnaires. Un dimanche, cependant, elle dispara”t ;
on les d*couvre, Sandrine et elle, s'amusant dans une
station de ski.A la fin des ann*es soixante, Simone de Beauvoir
*crivait: "La vieillesse est un probl*me vers lequel
convergent tous les *checs de la soci*t*. Et c'est
pourquoi ce probl*me est si soigneusement cach*." Les
temps sont en train de changer, semble-t-il, quand une
com*die fran*aise grand public de 1990 peut aborder la
vieillesse de plein front via [= par le biais d'] une
vieille femme acari‰tre de 82 ans qui se conduit
spectaculairement mal. Tatie Danielle est le second film
d'Etienne Chatiliez, le directeur de "La Vie est un long
fleuve tranquille", une com*die [qui a eu] un *norme
succ*s. Ce film n'est pas [une description de] la
vieille France romantique tant aim*e des Anglais: les
gens mangent de la nourriture surgel*e [= du surgel*],
regardent [ˆ la t*l*] des feuilletons am*ricains doubl*s
en fran*ais, lisent [des romans de] Barbara Cartland, et
vont en vacances dans un village de Gr*ce du genre
Club-Med avec "chapelle cr*toise reconstruite."Et cependant, pour un public fran*ais, Tatie Danielle
fait mouche sur maints [de nombreux] points douloureux
et familiers, telle que la m*chancet* l*gendaire de la
bourgeoisie fran*aise de province et son obsession avec
l'h*ritage, explor*e en litt*rature depuis Balzac.
L'hypocondrie d'un pays obs*d* par la m*decine, offrant
un culte aux m*decins ("vous savez, le docteur a dit pas
de sucre"), est abord*e, de m*me que [certaines]
habitudes racistes comme celle d'apprendre aux chiens ˆ
attaquer les facteurs Noirs. Point le plus sensible de
tous, le film aborde la question de comment agir face ˆ
une population qui vieillissante *tant donn* les
vicissitudes d’une vie urbaine trop agit*e: en d'autres
termes, que doit-on faire des mamies (et les chiens)
g*nants? La question du chien est r*solue ˆ la mani*re
parisienne classique, en *tant laiss* au bord de la
route. Quant ˆ la m*m*re, sa destin*e [= son sort]
appara”t *tre celui de la maison de retraite [= des
"petits vieux"] avec ses histoires d'horreur de manque
affectif et de besoins corporels hors de contr™le.Cette image sombre et non flatteuse est inhabituelle
dans les com*dies fran*aises, qui en r*gle g*n*rale font
appel au nostalgique et au c™t* aimable et plaisant
plut™t qu'au grotesque (comme dans les films de Jacques
Tati), ou bien dans des films r*cents, tels que "Trois
hommes et un couffin" et "Romuald et Juliette". Etienne
Chatiliez, cependant, touche certains aspects de la
r*alit* sociale que la plupart d'entre nous
pr*f*reraient ne pas voir ˆ l'*cran, tout en *tant
extr*mement dr™le. Cette com*die, par exemple lorsque
Sandrine donne une giffle ˆ Danielle, ou encore dans les
sc*nes de la maison de retraite - s'apparente ˆ
l'humour vitriolique des ann*es d'apr*s 68 de
caricaturistes tel que Reiser, qui a dessin* des images
m*morables d'*paves alcooliques et de retrait*s
ha•ssables. Et cependant, en conclusion, le c™t* comique
et plaisant refait surface, par exemple dans la finale
fantaisiste ou encore dans la transformation
occasionnelle de Danielle, de garce inf‰me en vilaine
petite fille, qui mange trop de choux ˆ la cr*me et qui
fait des grimaces derri*re le dos des gens.Plus profond*ment, la d*cision de Chatiliez d'*tendre la
moquerie du film ˆ tous ses personnages, ne laissant
aucun point positif d'identification except*, peut-*tre,
le personnage de Sandrine [et de sa classe-ouvri*re],
diffuse l'impact de sa satire. Il est *galement dommage
que la moquerie, souvent sociologique et tr*s pointue [=
pr*cise], tels que les go*ts petits bourgeois des
Billard (leur fa*on de s'habiller, leur raffolement de
la cuisine ˆ la mode, leur fa*on de s'exprimer),
contient son c™t* r*actionnaire comme, par exemple,
dans la fa*on dont est trait*e l'homosexualit* du fils
a”n*.Finalement, le film est incapable de d*cider si Danielle
est une m*g*re ingrate, la peste redout*e d'une famille
bien intentionn*e (quoique [tourn*e en] ridicule), ou
bien une vieille femme indigne et incontr™lable, qui
lance un d*fi ˆ toute convention. La fin du film, o*
nous voyons Sandrine venir ˆ la rescousse de Danielle
dans la maison de retraite, semble favoriser la seconde
interpr*tation, mais le reste ne supporte pas [cela]
cette hypoth*se. Il y a peu d'explications qui nous sont
offertes quant au pourquoi une vieille femme devrait se
comporter ainsi [= agir d'une telle mani*re], m*me si
c'est un film *crit par une femme et interpr*t* par des
acteurs qui sont presque tous enti*rement des femmes,
dans lequel les hommes sont soit morts (le mari de
Danielle) soit absents de l'*cran. On voit Catherine au
travail, par exemple, dans un salon de beaut* (o* elle
se sp*cialise dans l'*pilation), mais on ne voit pas son
mari. Ce sont les femmes qui discutent, et abordent
[entre elles] le probl*me du soin [ˆ apporter] aux
personnes ‰g*es.Il y a des traces qui pourraient sugg*rer que la
frustation sexuelle, ˆ laquelle font allusion les mots
de la chanson, la "Ballad of an Old Bitch", entendue
lors du d*roulement du titre et ˆ laquelle fait *cho sa
passion pour les romans de Barbara Cortland et pour les
feuilletons de t*l*vision, pourrait *tre une raison de
la conduite de Danielle. Vers la fin du film, l'image de
Danielle passant des heures ˆ regarder par la fen*tre de
sa maison de retraite fait *cho ˆ une autre image [o* on
la voit] regardant de derri*re ses rideaux le monde
ext*rieur, sugg*rant une vie g‰ch*e et marqu*e d'un
*pouvantable isolement affectif. Malgr* sa fin
optimiste, ce c™t* sombre projette assez d' ombre pour
faire de Tatie Danielle un film o* il y a plus d'*pines
que de roses. [Ma traduction]
--------------------------------------------------------6. La fille sur le pont - Girl On The Bridge. 1999 - A
film by Patrice Leconte
http://www.ParamountClassics.com/GirlOnTheBridge/"Rescued from Tragedy. Destined for passion. 92 min.
B&WÒShot in sumptuous black and white, replete with dizzy,
swooping camera effects and gorgeous shots of Paris,
Monaco, Athens and Istanbul, [the film] is like a pocket
anthology of your favorite foreign movies ... a
meticulous cut-and-paste collage of a half-dozen
half-remembered, dreamed-up movies by Godard, Truffaut
and, above all, Fellini.Ó A.O. Scott, The New York
Times.Director Patrice Leconte introduces us to Vanessa
Paradis at the very start, intercutting shots of her
lively face between the main titles. It is an
irresistible face: expressive, open, fine-boned, and
carrying a gap-toothed smile - the flaw that renders the
whole totally disarming. Paradis plays Adele, who
believes that "making love is life," but hasn't yet
learned the difference between making love and having
sex. Adele suffers from low self esteem ("My ideas are
always bad.") and has sex with almost any man who offers
her attention. She is invariably disappointed and is
discouraged to the point of leaping off of a bridge.
Before she does, a stranger approaches, Gabor (Daniel
Auteuil), who tries to talk her out of jumping. "Burned
out women are my stock in trade," he tells her, "Trust
me, I'll make you somebody who laughs and takes life
with ease."Leconte tells the story of their love, framing it as
a fable, exploring the nature of intimacy and passion.
Gabor is a knife thrower and Adele becomes his target,
restoring his fading career in the circuit of circuses,
casinos, and cruise ships. The stakes grow higher as
dangers are added to the act - Adele covered with a
sheet, Adele spinning on a wheel, Gabor with eyes
closed. And as the stakes grow higher, their passion
becomes ever more intense; it is the intimacy of danger,
vulnerability, and trust that charges the crackling
electricity between them. They don't have sex (and
Adele's eye keeps roving), but in performing their act
they find a profoundly sensual connection; that intimacy
is as sexual as if their bodies were connected as one.After each performance, Gabor gently bandages
Ad*le's scratches - Leconte's metaphor for the wounds
that intimacy inevitably brings, but wounds that are
tended to by the caring lover, wounds that will heal.Leconte intertwines themes about luck with the
exploration of intimacy. "Luck takes will power,
effort," Gabor insists, and at another point, "You don't
take it, you make it." Easy for him to say, perhaps,
because Gabor is clairvoyant and telepathic. Suspicious
casinos have banned him from the tables, but now Adele
acts as his surrogate. Together they prosper as they
tour the European circuit. Gabor carries his tests of
luck to dangerous extremes - he turns off the headlights
of the car as they drive on a dark night. "Learn to lose
or you'll take winning for granted," he cautions.In beautifully composed black and white, Leconte
follows the fortunes of Adele and Gabor, each
experience, each advance of the plot adding a twist or
an insight into the connections between love and luck
and destiny. Paradis is a marvel of natural charm, but
it is the confluence of her performance and Auteuil's
that is genuinely remarkable. In contrast with Paradis'
charmingly transparent openness, Auteuil's Gabor is at
first articulate, persuasive, but guarded. As events
unfold, his vulnerability subtly emerges and the balance
in the relationship becomes more complex.With serious themes that might have resulted in a
ponderous scenario, Leconte bouys the proceedings,
sustaining a tone of lightness. There is abundant wit
and wry humor in the dialogue (screenplay by Serge
Frydman). Even as Adele is poised to leap from the
bridge, the music in the background is a cheery cha cha
rhythm. Choices of music throughout are surprising and
apt, in particular Marianne Faithfull singing "Who Will
Take My Dreams Away?" as the knives fly and the passion
ignites.While its Felliniesque touches inevitably evoke
comparisons, Girl on the Bridge stands as a uniquely
original and superbly accomplished work in its own
right, surely one of the finest films released in the
U.S. this year. - Arthur LazereA Film Review by James Berardinelli
It's ironic that a motion picture designed as
mainstream, commercial entertainment in France will be
viewed as an art house film during its American run. The
movie in question is Patrice Leconte's The Girl On the
Bridge, which made more than $20 million during its
theatrical run in its native country (an astounding box
office tally). However, because it is in black-and-white
and has subtitles, the film has been acquired for U.S.
distribution by Paramount's foreign and independent
division, Paramount Classics, and will play primarily to
upscale audiences who aren't intimidated by the
experience of reading while watching a movie.The Girl On the Bridge follows standard romantic comedy
guidelines with some interesting variations and rhythms.
There are those who will immediately assume that because
the film is French, it must contain deep philosophical
musings, but that's not really the case. Leconte,
working from a script by Serge Frydman, tickles the
underbelly of things like fate and chance, but he never
does much with these weighty issues. They are present as
plot devices; this is not a deep exploration of the
existential aspect of humanity's nature. Instead, it's a
quirky love story that appeals more to the emotions than
to the intellect.With the exception of a few supporting characters who
make brief appearances, this is essentially a
two-character movie. Adele (Vanessa Paradis) is a
down-on-her-luck young woman who is convinced that she
is afflicted with a Midas Touch in reverse. She's as
unlucky in love as she is in life in general. A
compulsive sex addict, she sleeps with almost any man
she has eye contact with, but she falls in love easily
and has had her heart broken on multiple occasions.
Eventually, after deciding that things aren't going to
get better, she walks out on a bridge crossing the Seine
and prepares to jump. That's when she meets Gabor
(Daniel Auteuil), who changes the course of her life.Gabor is a professional knife-thrower, and he offers
Adele an alternative to suicide: become his assistant (a
position which, he insists, might lead to the same end).
She agrees, and the two begin a successful partnership.
Of course, they fall in love, but neither admits it.
Adele continues her trysts with attractive men, and,
although she and Gabor never consummate their
relationship, they develop a deep psychic bond (they can
hold conversations over long distances) and their
knife-throwing exhibitions mimic sex in every way
possible (except that they're not touching). Best of
all, when they're together, they have tremendously good
luck. But, when their paths diverge, their fortunes
begin a downward spiral.The Girl On the Bridge is undoubtedly an artistic
endeavor, but it is in no way obscure. The central
metaphor - that of knife-throwing standing in for sex -
is so obvious that it's impossible to miss (if nothing
else, Paradis' orgasmic moans give it away). From a
visual standpoint, The Girl On the Bridge is beautifully
composed. The black-and-white cinematography is
stunning. Leconte cleverly intermixes a variety of
camera techniques ranging from the hand-held approach of
cinema verite to the crane and helicopter shots of big
studio productions. There are a large number of
close-ups, but their placement is carefully chosen. The
camera loves Paradis, and it's an experience to see her
face gazing down from the big screen (especially since
the movie was made in wide-screen). And Auteuil's
features express emotions that his voice and dialogue
never betray.Of the two stars, the 40 year-old Auteuil is by far the
better known performer. Next to G*rard Depardieu, he is
arguably France's most recognizable leading man, having
appeared in dozens of movies, many of which have
received international distribution. His subtle,
effective work in The Girl On the Bridge won him a Cesar
Award for Best Actor (his fifth nomination and second
victory). Paradis, on the other hand, is not an
established thespian. Her fame - and she is known
world-wide - comes primarily from her singing career.
Acting is a new field, but she acquits herself
admirably, and it doesn't hurt that she has the kind of
natural charisma that can camouflage a host of minor
flaws. Like her co-star, she received a Cesar nomination
for her performance here; unlike him, she did not win.The director, Leconte, has an international reputation.
He is best known for a trio of features: Monsieur Hire,
The Hairdresser's Husband, and Ridicule. The Girl On the
Bridge is different from all three, although its closest
cousin is The Hairdresser's Husband. Both are romantic
fables; however, there is considerably more heft and
melodrama in the earlier movie. The Girl On the Bridge
is lighter and more humorous. Upon its French release,
Leconte was blasted by a number of French critics. His
response, which disagreed with the assertion that a
commercially successful motion picture could not have
artistic merit, touched off the latest brouhaha in
French cinema. As much as at any time in the past, the
question of art vs. entertainment has become a source of
fodder for French critics and pundits.If subtitles were not so feared in the United States,
The Girl On the Bridge might become one of the summer's
biggest hits - an unpretentious romantic comedy that
revels in the exuberance of new love. However, because
it is not in English, the movie will never reach a wide
American audience. But, for those who aren't scared off
by the thought of entertainment in a different language,
a rewarding experience awaits. The Girl On the Bridge is
an appealing diversion.... et en fran*ais
Le film est un hymne po*tique sur l'amour et la chance.
Le site d'Ecran Noir est donc le reflet de ce beau film,
en 7 parties, qui se suivent, sans l'espoir d'en sortir.
Un site ferm*, en huis-clos, qui vous fera d*couvrir
l'univers de deux *tres *tranges, attir*s par leur
malchance, et qui atteindront une certaine magie
ensemble. Un site qui d*file un peu comme on raconte une
belle histoire...Sur Vanessa Paradis
http://perso.club-internet.fr/vatzhol/fillepontparadis.htmlPour une analyse en fran*ais:
Ad*le n'existe que dans la relation ˆ l'autre et,
caract*ristique assez fr*quente du sous-type sexuel
d*sint*gr*, elle confond intimit* et sexualit*Ê:Un extrait du script:
Ad*leÊ: A l'*poque j'avais rencontr* quelqu'un. C'est
pour *tre avec lui que j'ai arr*t* mesÉ Que je suis
partie de chez moi.Voix offÊ: C'*tait un besoin de libert*Ê?
Ad*leÊ: Ben, de libert*, je sais pas. C'*tait surtout
pour coucher avec lui, voyez, parce que quand j'*tais
plus jeune, je me disais que la vie *a devait commencer
le jour o* on fait l'amour et qu'avant *a, on est rien.
Alors, le premier qui a eu envie de le faire, je suis
partie avec lui pour qu'on soit que tous les deux et que
ma vie commence.Cela l'am*nera apr*s ce premier homme ˆ encha”ner un
psychologue, un anesth*siste, un patron de restaurant,
ses clients, un juge, un militaire dans un train, un
contorsionniste, un serveur de bar, un grec en
croisi*re, etc. A chaque fois, le m*canisme est le
m*meÊ: elle veut se sentir aim*e et surtout, elle a
besoin que l'autre ait besoin de son amourÊ: "Il avait
l'air d'*tre tellement amoureux que je l'aurai suivi ˆ
l'autre bout du monde." Et ce besoin de l'autre n'a pas
ˆ *tre exprim* avec forceÊ:GaborÊ: Qu'est-ce qu'il y aÊ? Il vous pla”tÊ? Si vous
voulez faire connaissance, les chiottes sont sur votre
droite.Ad*leÊ: Il me sourit. Je suis polie.
GaborÊ: AhÊ! Mais j'ai bien peur qu'avec vous la
politesse finisse toujours au fin fond d'un plumard.La sc*ne du train est int*ressante ˆ cet *gard. Elle
fait l'amour dans les toilettes d'un wagon avec un
militaire rencontr* au bar et elle s'explique ainsi ˆ
GaborÊ: "J'avais besoinÉ J'avais envie que quelqu'un me
prenne dans ses bras, j'avais besoin d'un petit peu de
douceur et bon, je me suis peut-*tre un peu emball*e,
j'ai pas r*fl*chi."En termes d'Enn*agramme, on admirera cette tentative
d'exprimer un besoin, interrompue et transform*e en une
envie. En fait, Ad*le sait bien que son d*sir n'*tait
qu'un *cho de celui du militaire puisqu'elle pr*ciseÊ:
"J'ai pas encore l'habitude de dire non."Plus l'autre est ou fait semblant d'*tre dans la
souffrance, plus Ad*le r*agit vite. C'est pour cela
qu'elle va suivre Gabor. Elle per*oit sa blessure
*motionnelle et malgr* sa peur, elle le suit d*s qu'il
lui dit "Faites-moi confiance, s'il vous pla”t." Et que
peut-elle donner de plus que, potentiellement, sa vieÊ?
C'est pourquoi elle assimile le lancer de couteaux ˆ
l'acte d'amour.La compulsion d'Ad*le est de ne pas reconna”tre ses
besoins, mais elle ne l'emp*che pas d'avoir des besoins
et de vouloir qu'ils soient satisfaits. Ad*le quitte
donc Gabor pour un passager grec du bateau de croisi*re
sur lequel ils font leur num*ro. Le grec a le double
avantage d'*tre d*pressif et de lui donner un minimum
d'attentionÊ: "Il n'y en a jamais aucun qui m'a regard*
comme lui. Il n'y en a jamais aucun qui m'a demand* si
je pr*f*rais le c™t* droit ou gauche du lit, si j'avais
froid, si j'avais chaud, si j'avais faim ou si j'avais
soif."Trait*e ainsi par les hommes, Ad*le n'a pas eu une vie
tr*s plaisanteÊ: "Vous savez le papier collant qui
attire les mouches, en spiraleÊ? Ben, c'est moi crach*.
Les histoires moches, il y en a pas une qui me passe ˆ
c™t*. Faut croire qu'il y a des gens comme *a qui font
aspirateur pour soulager un peu les autres. Je tombe
jamais sur le bon num*ro. Tout ce que j'essaie, *a rate,
tout ce que je touche, *a se transforme en vacherie. (É)
Peut-*tre que j'ai jamais m*rit* mieux. (É) Tout ce
qu'on m'a promis, j'y ai toujours cru." On admirera dans
cette tirade comment elle transforme sa malchance en un
moyen d'aider les autres!Pourtant, cette "poisse" ne la rend ni "heureuse, ni
m*me vraiment malheureuse". Le long plan du d*but du
film nous la montre racontant sa vie sans la
dramatisation *motionnelle.
--------------------------------------------------------7. Le Placard (The Closet). 2000 - A film of Francis
Veber.FranceÕs finest leading men - Daniel Auteuil and G*rard
Depardieu - join forces with the writer of the classic
La Cage Aux Folles to create a brilliant comedy of
errors. Fran*ois (Auteuil), is a dull middle manager in
a condom factory whose life is thrown into turmoil when
he finds out that heÕs about to be sacked. In a
desperate attempt to save his job he is persuaded to
pretend to be gay. Suddenly everyoneÕs seeing Fran*ois
in an altogether different and interesting new light -
much to the annoyance of F*lix, the homophobic head of
personnel...Film Reviews
The basic story, clear and simple is that of Fran*ois
Pignon (the same name as the protagonist's in "The
Dinner Game,") played by Daniel Auteuil. For 20 years he
has worked as an accountant in a super-modern firm of
rubber items, especially condoms. Francois has been a
good employee but his personality is, to say the least,
unremarkable. He blends in with the wallpaper, so to
speak. And he is something of a sad sack these days
because his wife had left him and their teen-age boy
studiously avoids him. He finds that Dad is "chiant," a
strong French word for "supremely dull."Unexpectedly, the firm decides to retrench -minimally
that is--which means that just one employee will be let
go. Fran*ois find out that he is that person.What with his gloom about his ex-wife and his son,
Fran*ois goes to his apartment and contemplates suicide.
A new, older neighbor comes to the rescue. This wise man
thinks up a way to save Fran*ois's job: make the firm
believe that Fran*ois is gay. Firing him would be
politically incorrect, perhaps bring on a lawsuit,
certainly create much bad publicity to the firm.How this is done is an utter delight, but I will not
spoil it for my readers. Suffice it to state that there
are laughs galore, that the acting is first-class, that
Fran*ois never adopts any gay characteristics, that the
technical aspects are excellent, the music first-rate
and appropriate, and that there is, in the cast, the
loveliest Scottish kitten you'll ever see. All the
details are perfect and planned with energy as well as
superior clarity throughout the delicious twists of
characters and plot.The tempo is perfect. Everything moves fast, but not in
a speeded-up way. The camera and the editing know when
to mini-linger, when to cut away.Daniel Auteuil is a great performer. So is G*rard
Depardieu. In a most un-Hollywoodian way, those
superstars are not exactly pretty fellows-- to put it
mildly. But then there is the unspoken, humanizing
French tradition of often using leading as well as
supporting actors who are not beauty kings -- call it
the Michel Simon syndrome.Depardieu's role here is a supporting one, and that's
the sign of real trouper. He plays the factory's most
openly homophobic employee, a man hoisted on his own
p*tard who ends up as a simpatico character. More I
cannot disclose. See for yourself. © Edwin JahielAnother Review
What happens when you find yourself watching an
ostensibly "gay movie" in which only one gay character
appears, and in a secondary role? Does it still qualify?
And what, exactly, constitutes a lesbian or gay film
anyway? The answers to these questions are, of course,
complicated and related to each other. These questions
are further complicated by Francis Veber's new French
bedroom farce, The Closet. The film demonstrates just
how a movie may be directly concerned with questions of
sexual minority rights and social enfranchisement,
without being overtly "gay," in terms of featuring
stereotypical characters, visual homoerotics,
outraged/morose AIDS sentiment, a camp sensibility, or
all the above.The Closet attests to the cultural and political
advances made by sexual minorities in the recent past in
being a gay movie almost entirely evacuated of gay
characters. In fact, Veber is no stranger to "gay films"
that are a bellwether of the changing place of sexual
minorities in and in relation to
"mainstream"/heterosexual communities. He wrote the
original screen version of La Cage Aux Folles, as well
as its U.S. version, directed by Mike Nichols, The
Birdcage. Both of these films (despite embracing I would
call some pretty terminal clich*s about gay folk) can be
read as reflective and productive of both heterosexual
perceptions of gayness as "lifestyle" and as community.
And the same can be said for The Closet. You see, The
Closet isn't so much (or at all, really) about queer
people living queer lives in queer communities, but
rather about some of the ways in which gayness functions
as a social category. More to the point, the film is
about how gayness is experienced, interpreted, and "made
sense of" by non-gay individuals and communities. At the
same time that gay individuals and cultures are
disappeared from most of The Closet, the film recognizes
that even if sexual minorities have become politically
and legally enfranchised in most Western nations, overt
homophobia, social intolerance, and physical violence
against gays and lesbians continues to be a fact of
daily life in these same countries.The pervasive threat of homophobia and violence
experienced by many gay men and women every day suffuses
The Closet and the new "gay" life of its hero. Fran*ois
Pignon (Daniel Auteuil) is a staff accountant at a
prophylactic factory. Sounds like the start of some sexy
romp, no? Well, Pignon (as he is called by everyone in
the film) is actually something of a bore. His wife left
him two years prior, claiming he was a "drag" and taking
their teenage son with her. He's been working the same
job for twenty years, but times being what they are, the
company is in the process of downsizing, and Pignon
finds himself about to be jobless in addition to
wife-less and family-less. As he considers throwing
himself off his high-rise balcony, he's interrupted by
his new neighbor, an older gent named Belone (Michel
Aumont). After hearing of Pignon's woes, Belone devises
a plan for him to at least keep his job: he's to start a
rumor that he is gay and don't do anything to deny it,
that way the company won't fire him for fear of a sexual
discrimination lawsuit. To help him, Belone offers to
digitize Pignon's face onto some photos of leather-boys
in compromising positions he has handy, and to mail them
to Pignon's boss anonymously.When Pignon protests that he isn't gay, Belone assures
him that the fact is immaterial; all that matters is
that other people believe he is gay. Pignon's enactment
of "being gay" proceeds not as some flamboyant "flamer,"
which would be, according to Belone, "vulgar in the
extreme," but rather by behaving in the same manner as
he always has, and letting his co-workers and family
read him how they will in light of this new information.
Belone is exactly right, and this is The Closet's most
pointed insight. While identity is personal, it is also
intersubjective; while it is a function of who/what we
claim to be, it is also produced by external
interpretation. This is not necessarily news. Anyone who
is non-traditionally gendered -- whether gay, straight
or otherwise sexually inclined -- can tell of the
harassment, bullying, and violence they suffer at the
hands of peers who perceive them to be "gay."Still, it's a revelation to Pignon, who experiences all
this firsthand, perhaps most acutely when two macho
co-workers, threatened by the presence of a presumably
gay man in their midst, follow him home one evening and
bash him in the parking garage of his apartment
building. Belone's insight into how our own identities
are experienced through other people's reactions and
interpretations is exactly right. He is, after all, the
film's single gay character and thus, I suppose more
familiar with identity politics. And as an older man (in
his early 60s would be my guess), he has presumably
endured the social and political changes affecting
sexual minorities over the latter half of the twentieth
century. Indeed, when asked why he is being so helpful
to Pignon, he replies that it is because, "thirty years
ago, I was fired for the same thing that is going to
save your job." Belone understands that today, being gay
is no longer necessarily anathema to hetero-normative
cultures. Of course, one of the film's blind spots is
that this inclusiveness is really only for some gay men.
It is questionable whether the "vulgar" flamer Belone
speaks of, or an m-t-f trans individual might find the
same congeniality among the managerial business culture
of which Pignon is a part.Nonetheless, the effects of Pignon's "coming out" on
this rather small and tight-knit business community are
The Closet's primary concern, and provide its humor.
Somewhat refreshingly, the film does not use gay
characters acting like "flamers" for comic relief, but
rather finds its humor in the spectacle of perplexed
straight folk and how they relate personally to Pignon's
"gayness." So, his Accounts Department co-worker Ariane
(Armelle Deutsch) declares that she "always knew" he was
gay, and that he is much more sexy and interesting now
that he is out. His departmental boss, Mlle. Bertrand
(Mich*le Laroque), while startled by the announcement,
refuses to believe it and eventually becomes Pignon's
love interest (hey, it's a romantic comedy, it's gotta
have a love interest for our non-gay "gay" hero). The
company CEO, Mr. Kopel (Jean Rochefort), initially
flummoxed and homophobic, comes around to see that this
turn of events can be an excellent marketing tool for a
condom manufacturer, and commissions a float for the
Paris Gay Pride Parade, atop of which he places Pignon.
On seeing the parade on the news, Pignon's son Franck
(Stanislas Creviller) experiences a renewed interest in
his dad, whom he previously considered a dullard, to be
avoided at all costs.The most complicated response to Pignon's "coming out"
comes from his co-worker, F*lix Santini (G*rard
Depardieu). Santini is the captain of the company rugby
team and an all-around homophobe with no time for
"sissy" men. When he is advised by some practical
jokester co-workers that if his phobic rants against
Pignon continue, he will get himself fired, Santini sets
out to befriend Pignon and ends up courting him (he
takes Pignon to a fancy restaurant and buys him a pretty
pink cashmere sweater). Santini's relationship to Pignon
becomes increasingly complex and it seems that through
Pignon, he will be able to come to grips with his own
homosexuality; at least until Pignon rejects his
suggestion that they move in together. Following this
rejection, Felix breaks down and ends up
institutionalized.Though he recovers and returns to work, Santini's
"crisis of identity" is never resolved. But this is a
good thing. Santini's homophobia (and homophobia in
general) cannot be so simplistically resolved as
repressed homosexuality, just as homosexuality (or
sexual identity in general) cannot be so simplistically
defined as the gender to whom we are attracted.Ambiguously "gay" from beginning to end, The Closet
challenges easy definitions of what constitutes gay and
lesbian film, and yet nevertheless comes off (at least
for me) as a decidedly "gay" film. More importantly, The
Closet makes no claims to show what gayness "is," but
rather how it functions socially and politically, how it
is interpreted and understood by non-gay people, and how
that function is not produced by a singular or
individual act but through the subjective interactions
of all of "our" communities. - Todd R. Ramlow,Ê
PopMatters Film Critic
--------------------------------------------------------8. Marius et Jeannette, 1997. A Film by Robert
Guediguian
Pour en savoir plus sur Marius et JeannetteRobert Guediguian's quietly spectacular, unlikely love
story unfolds in Marseille, with the most striking
moments taking place in close-ups that frame the faces
of Marius, a guard at a condemned factory, and
Jeannette, a volatile checkout woman with two children
by two husbands, one who abandoned her, one killed by
falling scaffolding. In the bleak Marseilles economy,
where a lack of jobs and a profusion of immigrants have
sown seeds of racism and xenophobia, it is all members
of the struggling working class can do to steal small
moments of happiness. Living literally on top of
Jeannette, in an upstairs apartment, a staunch forty
something Communist, Caroline, shells beans and reads
the lefty tabloid "L'Humanit*"; Caroline's
neighbor-erstwhile lover Justin reads "Le Monde
Diplomatique," lecturing Jeannette's mulatto son Malek,
who decides to observe Ramadan, on fundamentalism. This
is a film of graceful moments, strung together,
lingering long after the final credits: the hobbled
Marius challenging Jeanette to a foot race along a dusty
factory road, to a distant parasol; the pair breathing
in the air under a clear blue Mediterranean sky after
making love for the first time amid the cement factory's
grassy ruins; Jeannette, Monique and Caroline buying
Chinese silk underwear from Monsieur Ebrard, Jeanette's
ex-boss at the supermarket, who fired her, then was
fired himself after being caught stealing panties for
his overweight wife--a woman so large, she wears through
the crotch at an alarming rate, he tells the women, with
all three doubled-over with laughter; Jeanette giving a
blue-silk camisole set to her teenage daughter Magali,
who says, "If I wore this out, I'd be pregnant by the
time I got to the end of the street"; and concerned
whispers, at half-time of a televised Marseille soccer
match, when he stops--for his own tragic reasons--
joining Jeannette, Malek and Magali for dinner. What
saves these people, what makes this movie so
exceptional, is the sense of humor, unbending even as
hydraulic cranes smash down the cement factory. Caroline
complains when she learns the papal villa at Avignon is
going to be declared a national historic site. "Why not
make a factory a historic site?" she demands.
Guediguian's brilliant, funny, unsentimental "Marius and
Jeannette" gives the workers of the world a memorable
monument. --Sam JemielityÊ © NewCityNet Chicago,
06-29-98
Ê
.. et en fran*ais:L'histoire: Le Monde... Marseille... Quartiers Nord...
lÔEstaque.Synopsis:
La vie d'un voisinage dans le quartier de l'Estaque ˆ
Marseille, o* chacun apprend ˆ aimer l'autre, avec ses
diff*rences et ses d*fauts. De crises de fou rire en
engueulade vite oubli*e, comment reconstruire sa vie
avec le poids des erreurs, et le souvenir des horreurs.A la gloire de nos m*res
Le cin*ma r*serve quelquefois de bonnes surprises. Ce
film - sans aucune pr*tention - la cr*e avec une sorte
de syst*me D en apparence.
Tout sent le copinage, la combine, les bouts de
ficelles.....et pourtant la salle a ri, peut-*tre pleur*
en silence, la salle a ovationn* l'*quipe. Le film ne
poss*de aucune qualit* particuli*re au niveau technique.
En cela c'est l'anti Luc Besson.L'histoire, en plus d'*tre agr*able, est joliment
racont*e, et rejoint ainsi la narration du voisin
d'Aubagne, Marcel Pagnol. m*me si le propos tient plus
de Jean Renoir ou Ren* Clair.
Les personnages sont tous attachants, et l'on ressent
bien cette g*n*rosit*, cette chaleur, et ces coups de
sang typiquement m*ridionaux. Les portraits sonnent
justes, et gr‰ce en soit rendu au naturel des com*diens
tous impeccables.Le film ne manque d'ailleurs ni d'accent, ni de voix. Le
message, qui para”tra sans doute simpliste ˆ certains,
voire communiste ˆ d'autres, n'en est pas moins efficace
et direct. Avec ce film, c'est comme boire un verre de
pastis frais sous les platanes.On y parle politique comme dans les bistros, de Le Pen ˆ
Dieu, en passant par les camps de concentration et la
futilit* du capitalisme. Pas de d*tail.La fille r*sumera m*me le probl*me social en une phrase
:
" C*zanne a peint des paysages et des quartiers o* les
pauvres vivent. Mais les tableaux finissent sur les murs
des riches."On parle de sentiments, de pr*carit* sociale, de
bonheur......La fracture sociale fait place aux f*lures
personnelles.Tr*s fid*le ˆ l'esprit marseillais, "Marius et Jeannette
" scrute les disputes de quartier pour mieux parler de
nos ennuis ˆ tous. Ici place ˆ l'int*gration sous toutes
ses formes. Un v*ritable *loge ˆ l'amour, et
sous-jascente une vitriolique critique du fascisme. Un
vibrant playdoyer ˆ l'int*gration. Celle d'un quartier
dans un pays, d'un homme dans une famille d*structur*e
mais unie.Les femmes m*nent le combat de ces moments tr*s color*s,
tandis que les hommes cuvent leurs faiblesses dans
chacune des failles et des pi*ges qu'on leur tend.Banal film en apparence qui a la saveur d'un plat relev*
ˆ l'ail.Marius et Jeannette sont au milieu de leur vie.
Marius vit seul dans une immense cimenterie d*saffect*e
qui domine le quartier. Il est le gardien de cette usine
en d*molition.Jeannette *l*ve, seule, ses deux enfants avec un maigre
salaire de caissi*re. Elle habite une minuscule maison
ouverte sur une courette typique de lÔhabitat
m*diterran*en. Ses voisins de cour, Caroline et Justin,
Monique et D*d*, lÔencouragent avec force, *clats de
rire et coups de gueule.
La rencontre de Marius et de Jeannette ne sera pas
simple car, outre les difficult*s inh*rentes ˆ leur
situation sociale, ils sont bless*s par ... la vie.
Le film d*crit la renaissance de leur capacit* ˆ *tre
heureux. Cette romance populaire se terminera bien
car... Il le faut.Ê ÇIl faut r*-enchanter le monde.È
Robert Gu*diguian & Jean-Louis Milesi.Conte populaire de la vie quotidienne. Les personnages
authentiques sont des touches de lumi*re qui viennent
ensoleiller le quartier pauvre de l'Estaque. A travers
des le*ons de choses sur la religion, l'amour ou m*me la
recette de l'aioli, Robert Gu*diguian nous offre une
tranche de vie. Nous ouvrant la porte d'une cour
int*rieure o* des gens plein de vie partagent leur
quotidien avec humour, sans pudeur, *voquant l'actualit*
(les gr*ves, Le Pen...), mais aussi leurs sentiments.Le sc*nario -Ê Extraits :
Note d'intention h‰tive :Ê Tout ce qui est petit *tant
par d*finition joli, il s'agit d'*crire un petit conte
contemporain.Marius et Jeannette ont quarante ans. Ils sont ouvriers
et vivent ˆ l'Estaque, le quartier de Marseille connu
gr‰ce aux impressionnistes (et aux films de Robert
Gu*diguian). Outre les difficult*s li*es ˆ leur
situation sociale (et le film en parlera abondamment),
ils sont bless*s par... la vie. Ce conte ne va d*crire
qu'une chose, la renaissance de leur capacit* ˆ *tre
heureux.Le r*cit se structurera dans deux th*‰tres : une usine
d*saffect*e, immense, qui domine la mer, et une courette
typique de l'habitat traditionnel du Sud.Dans l'usine d*saffect*e, Marius vit seul. Dans la
courette, Jeannette est "soutenue" par ses voisins, deux
autres "couples". Ces deux autres couples nous
permettront de parler de Castro, de Le Pen, de la
d*portation, des gr*ves, du foot et aussi... du favisme
(maladie mortelle li*e ˆ l'ingestion de f*ves fra”ches).Bien s*r, cette histoire se terminera bien car... il le
faut.Ê Il faut r*-enchanter le monde.G*n*rique
Port de Marseille. Un globe terrestre flotte sur l'eau
et rentre au port sur la chanson :ÇIl pleut sur Marseille, le port rajeunit
il pleut sur Marseille, Notre-Dame sourit
il pleut, eh oui il pleut, le soleil se languit
il pleut, beaucoup, un peu,
ma ieu m'en fouti,
ma ieu m'en fouti....Ê1. Cimenterie - Extrait
Des engins d*molissent une usine, arrachent la ferraille
comme on *tripe un lapin... Sous le regard de Marius, la
quarantaine, en salopette rouge, un fusil ˆ lunette ˆ la
main. C'est le vigile de cette ancienne cimenterie,
long*e par une voie ferr*e. Au loin on aper*oit un bout
de mer.Jeannette s'agrippe ˆ des tuyaux et escalade. C'est une
femme de quarante ans, v*tue en jeans (pantalon et
blouson). Elle s'approche d'un amoncellement de pots de
peinture de vingt kilos, plus ou moins en train de
rouiller. Elle en prend un dans chaque main....Jeannette : Putain, je me ruine le dos...
Une voix : H* ! Lˆ-bas ! Arr*te-toi !
Jeannette : Merde ! Y'manquait plus que *a. Un gardien !
Ê
Elle pose les pots et attend.Marius s'approche dans son dos, le fusil toujours ˆ la
main, boitant de la jambe droite. Elle se retourne.
Ê
Jeannette : Ma maison va tomber en ruine si je mets pas
une couche de blanc sur les murs, elle est ferm*e depuis
six mois cette usine, tout le monde les a oubli*s ces
malheureux pots de peinture. Si je les prends pas, ils
vont pourrir sur place!... Tu pourrais me les donner?Marius : Mais elle est barjo. T'i'es barjo ou quoi ! Tu
crois qu'ils sont ˆ moi ces pots de peinture? On me paye
pour les garder . Donne-moi tes papiers.Jeannette : Mes papiers !
Marius : Oui, tes papiers.
Jeannette : Et en plus, tu vas me d*noncer aux flics !
B*, garde tes pots et l‰che-moi, elle est pas ˆ toi
cette usine, tu viens de le dire ! J'ai pas de sou pour
la peinture. Je vais pas aller en t™le pour *a ! Je suis
pas la fille de Jean Valjean, moi. Alors, je te rends
tes pots et je me barre.Marius : Dis, arr*te un peu de parler et donne-moi tes
papiers, je te dis.
Ê
Jeannette lui tend son portefeuille. Il lit les papiers.Ê
Jeannette (ˆ voix basse) : Fasciste.Marius : Quoi ! Qu'est-ce que t'i'as dit!
Jeannette (criant) : J'ai dit "fasciste"! T'i'es un
ouvrier comme moi, non ! Qu'est ce t'i'en as ˆ foutre de
cette peinture, merde! Heureusement que je suis pas
arabe, sinon tu m'aurais tir* dessus.Marius : Stop ! Tais-toi ! Prends tes papiers et
va-t'en, hein!...Jeannette : Ben, c'est gent...
Marius : Chut ! Chut! Tais-toi ! Va-t'en en silence...
En silence.
Ê
Elle recule lentement.
Ê
Jeannette : Et la peinture?Marius : Allez, allez!
Il la regarde s'*loigner.
2. Supermarch* - Int*rieur - Jour
Deux pots de peinture avancent sur le tapis roulant
d'une caisse de supermarch*. Jeannette est bizarrement
assise derri*re sa caisse. Elle est toute tordue sur son
si*ge, et c'est en fait la seule position qui lui permet
de rester assise sans avoir mal au dos. Elle tire les
pots de peinture pour les faire passer devant le rayon
lumineux qui lit le code-barre... Un chef, Monsieur
ƒbrard, passe dans son dos et lui ditÊ:Monsieur ƒbrard : H*! lÔestropi*e!
Jeannette se retourne.
Jeannette : C'est ˆ moi que vous parlez, Monsieur ƒbrard
?Monsieur ƒbrard : Tenez-vous droite, Jeannette.
Jeannette : J'y arrive pas. Quand je me tiens droite,
j'ai mal.Monsieur Ebrard : ‚a va, *a va, vous ralentissez la
caisse.Jeannette (se mettant droite): Aucun client ne s'est
plaint. Y'a que vous, h*! (Monsieur ƒbrard s'*loigne.)
Ê
Jeannette (pour elle-m*me) : Tortionnaire!
Ê
Caissi*re : Jeannette, si tu continues comme *a tu vas
te faire virer, fais gaffe.Jeannette : Et qu'ils me virent ! Je les emmerde ! J'ai
toujours fait mon boulot, y'a jamais eu une plainte
contre moi ! Si y me virent c'est pas parce que je me
tiens de traviole, c'est parce qu'y supportent pas que
je ferme pas ma gueuleÊ! Et moi je les emmerde tous ! Si
je ferme ma gueule, en plus du mal au dos j'aurai
l'ulc*re. Et je gagne pas assez pour me payer des
maladies de riches...3. Chez Jeannette - Int*rieur - Cr*puscule
Un panoramique nous r*v*le l'endroit o* vit Jeannette :
un ensemble de maisons basses dans un vieux quartier de
l'Estaque. Jeannette habite dans une de ces maisons,
divis*es en appartement, donnant sur une courette
int*rieure tout en longueur.Assise sur le pas de sa porte, Jeannette reprise des
chaussettes. Le jour d*cline.Dans son dos, sa fille Magali, dix-neuf, vingt ans, de
type europ*en, essuie la vaisselle.Assis ˆ table, son fils Malek fait ses devoirs. Il a
dix, onze ans, de type arabe. C'est que son p*re *tait
d'origine arabe.Jeannette : Qu'est -ce que tu vas devenir ? T'y
arriveras jamais. Ton p*re, il *tait fort. Mais toi avec
ta mauvaise sant*... tu pourras jamais travailler sur un
chantier.Malek : M'am, j'ai eu quatorze...
Jeannette : Et la derni*re fois, t'i'as eu dix-huit !
Quatre points en moins, *a compte, non ? Tu vas
redoubler.Malek : Mais non, on passe avec dix.
Jeannette : Tu t'en sortiras pas si t'i'as pas un bon
m*tier, t'i'es trop faible.Magali (muette jusqu'alors) : Maman a raison.
Jeannette : Tous les sacrifices que je fais pour lui. Je
vais jamais au coiffeur, je travaille jour et nuit ! Et
voilˆ ! R*sultat quatorze.Malek : M'am, je suis troisi*me de la classe. Arr*te,
maintenant.Magali : Tais-toi ! Tu vas pas engueuler ta m*re, non !
Va te coucher ! Allez, va te coucher!Jeannette : Mais il a pas mang*!
Magali : Qui dort d”ne.
Jeannette : Tu veux qu'il soit malade ! Faut qu'il
mange.Jeannette range sa couture et ferme la porte.
Entrevue avec Robert Gu*diguian ˆ propos de Marius et
Jeannette.Comment d*finiriez-vous votre film?
CÔest une histoire dÔamour. Pas Sissi et lÔArchiduc.
JÔai beau mÔ*vanouir devant Romy Schneider, les
histoires dÔamour chez les riches, je nÔy crois pas. Ce
sont des histoires de domaine, dÔalliance, dÔargent...
De pouvoir.Non, une histoire dÔamour chez les pauvres, lˆ o* il nÔy
a vraiment aucun int*r*t en jeu dans le fait de vivre
ensemble... YÔaurait plut™t des soucis suppl*mentaires.
Ê
Pourquoi un conteÊ?
Parce - que ce nÔest pas vrai. Que tout se passe aussi
bien et aussi simplement que cela, cÔest faux. La vie
nÔest pas comme cela. Et croyez-moi, jÔen suis conscient
(sourire). CÔest donc une proposition, une envie de
lumi*re, dÔair frais, de bonheur, malgr* tout, possible.La com*die, le burlesque, le m*lodrame, bref les
"contaminations stylistiques" sont lˆ pour produire un
enchantement, pour g*n*rer de la vitalit*."LÔargent fait le bonheur" *tait d*jˆ signal* comme un
conte.
CÔest vrai. Ce sont des films vifs, rapides,
dÔintervention, de circonstances, qui, selon moi,
doivent faire rigoler, pleurer et r*fl*chir. Des films
de galopins, espi*gles... Cela me fait penser ˆ du
th*‰tre berlinois, dÔAgit-Prop.
Ê
A propos du th*‰tre, la cour ressemble *trangement ˆ une
sc*ne de th*‰tre.
Absolument. Les voisins de Jeannette constituent le
choeur antique. Ce qui me permet dÔintervenir dans le
d*bat crucial de la recette de lÔa•oli (1), de faire de
la publicit* pour ?ÊlÔHumanit*ÊÒ (qui va mal) et pour
?ÊLe Monde DiplomatiqueÊÒ (qui va bien), dÔinsister sur
le fait que voter Le Pen ne serait-ce quÔune fois est
une fois de trop, que les grandes religions monoth*istes
ont une origine commune... Bref, de situer dans son
contexte actuel cette histoire dÔamour.
Ê
Vous ne trouvez pas que sur tous ces th*mes, vous *tes
un peu ... h‰tif?
Pire, je dis des *vidences. Des choses compr*hensibles,
quoique non comprises. Pour qui je fais des filmsÊ? Pour
vous qui en savez long sur les risques de lÔint*grisme
religieux, par exemple, ou pour des gens pour qui ce
nÔest pas encore *videntÊ?JusquÔo* doit-on *tre subtil? NÔy a t Ôil pas des choses
quÔil faut sans cesse r*affirmer sous des formes sans
cesse renouvel*es? LÔart nÔa tÔil pas une fonction
p*dagogique, politique, sociale...
Cela pose quelques questions qui, je crois, nÔont pas de
r*ponses d*finitives. Selon les moments de lÔhistoire du
cin*ma, mais aussi de lÔHistoire tout court, les
artistes r*pondent dÔune mani*re ou dÔune autre. Ici et
maintenant cÔest ma mani*re de r*pondre.
Ê
Que signifie pour vous le ballon repr*sentant la terre
qui arrive ˆ lÔEstaque?
Cela signifie que toutes les histoires du monde peuvent
se raconter nÔimporte o*... Cela signifie aussi que tout
individu porte en lui tous les r*ves du monde... Cela
signifie aussi que lÔinfiniment petit est infiniment
grand...(1) LÔail est une plante qui prouve que les classes
existent encore, au moins au niveau du go*t.Robert Gu*diguian et Marseille
ÊÇJÔaime Brecht, Capra, Pasolini et Ken Loach pour ne
citer quÔeux. Je ne travaille quÔavec des amis qui
partagent mon point de vue. Cela me permet de perp*tuer
ma tribu originelle. Comme tous les pauvres, la solitude
me tuerait. Marseille est mon langage (lumi*res et
couleurs, architectures et costumes, mer et collines,
corps et gestes...). LÔart que jÔaime le plus est
ench‰ss* dans la r*alit*. Voilˆ pourquoi je ne tourne
quÔˆ Marseille.ÈMarseille, source d'inspiration ?
Voilˆ une question qui me laisse muet. Ce sont les
"non-Marseillais" qui, peut-*tre, pourraient apporter
des *l*ments de r*ponse. Certains l'ont fait de Flaubert
ˆ Cendars, en passant par Walter Benjamin et Albert
Londres...Je suis n* ˆ Marseille. Cette cit* ne m'inspire pas ;
elle me fonde. Comme tous les Marseillais, mes origines
sont m*l*es : mon p*re est arm*nien, ma m*re est
allemande. Mais comme tous les Marseillais, aussi, mes
origines me pr*occupent peu.Lorsque je me demande qui je suis, je r*ponds : je suis
un fils d'ouvrier n* ˆ l'Estaque dans les quartiers Nord
de Marseille en 1953 (le quartier passe toujours en
premier dans cette ville). Voilˆ mon identit*, ma
culture et ma morale. Et ma langue.Si l'on veut bien admettre qu'en cin*ma comme en
litt*rature, l'artiste travaille avec une langue qui lui
est impos*e parce qu'il ne l'a pas choisie et parce
qu'elle l'a constitu*, je dirai que Marseille est ma
langue. Par exemple, si l'on me demandait d'*crire un
court m*trage dans lequel un vieux monsieur explique ˆ
un gamin sa passion pour la p*che, ce vieux porterait un
bleu de chauffe repass* avec virtuosit* et le gamin
serait v*tu de son seul maillot de bain. L'enfant aux
pieds nus serait kabyle, le vieux serait un ancien
docker italien. Il enseignerait la p*che au sard et sous
un soleil de plomb, il pousserait sa chaise ˆ l'ombre
d'un figuier sorti furieusement d'une roche blanche et
s*che. Loin sur la mer, un p*trolier semblerait d*sol*.
Enfin, bref, pas de pantalons de velours, de bottes en
caoutchouc, de brochets, de peupliers, de prairies, ou
m*me d'usines de p‰te ˆ papier. (Cette comparaison entre
litt*rature et cin*ma n'a aucune valeur th*orique (les
linguistes veuillent me pardonner) mais c'est un moyen
commode d'illustrer mon sentiment.J'ajoute ˆ cela que toute histoire peut s'incarner
n'importe o*. C'est ce "n'importe o*" qui lui donnera
son caract*re unique. C'est probablement, et pour
l'essentiel, de lˆ que viennent les diff*rences entre
les oeuvres et je pense qu'il faut r*solument pr*server
ces diff*rences face ˆ la pr*tention totalitaire des
industries audiovisuelles de programme. Ce mot lui-m*me
fait fr*mir . Un dernier motÊ: Jean Genet disait :
"Ecrire, c'est trahir." Avec tout le respect que je lui
dois, pour ma part, je voudrais *crire pour *tre fid*le.--------------------------------------------------------
9. Western
Pour en savoir plus sur WesternÊWestern on the Web:
http://www.france.diplomatie.fr/culture/france/cinema/fictions/100films/fr/087.htmlWinner of the 1997 Grand Jury Prize at Cannes, this
subtle, comic road film follows a traveling shoe
salesman and a Russian immigrant as they meet, fight and
eventually become friends while traveling along the
western coast of France. "Using every inch of his wide
screen, Poirier creates a breathtaking series of
wide-open spaces, images of a Europe without borders
that has room for everyone. It's a vision as seductive
as it is willfully naive..." (Dave Kehr, New York Daily
News).Synopsis
From under the most unlikely of circumstances, a
bumbling drifter and a chick magnet from Spain pair for
one of the most refreshing roadmovies to hit the screen
in a long time- ou, si vous pr*f*rez: Quand Paco le grand Catalan
rencontre Nino le petit Russe dans un Grand Ouest r*duit
aux dimensions d'un canton du Finist*re... L'un pla”t ˆ
toutes les femmes, l'autre aimerait plaire ˆ une femme.
Ils marchent et r*vent ˆ haute voie sur les routes
secondaires, et flirtent avec l'utopie d'un phalanst*re
plein d'enfants.While down on his luck, a travelling shoe salesman from
Spain (Catalonia, more precisely) - Paco - happens upon
a beautiful maiden - Marinette - with a heart of gold.
Although this chance encounter with the lovely Marinette
promises a new beginning for Paco, the two young lovers
agree to test the fate of their affair with a trial
separation. His life again turned upside down, Paco
befriendsÊ broken hearted drifter named Nino and is
persuaded to spend his time away from Marinette on a
road trip through Western FranceÊÊ (namely Brittany's
Finist*re) . During a three-week journey that never
breaks ten miles, the unlikely duo's quirky escapades
and hilarious misadventures form the bond of a warm and
touching friendship that will ultimately determine the
fate of Paco's love for Marinette and Nino's life on the
road.En fran*ais
J'ai envie de revendiquer l'utopie comme un *l*ment
n*cessaire ˆ la r*alit*, tout comme le r*ve qui ne se
d*finit qu'en rapport ˆ elle.
= I want to claim utopia as a necessary element of
reality, the same as dreams are only defined in relation
to reality itself. (Manuel Poirier, L'Humanit*, 27 ao*t
1997)Deux hommes parcourent la Bretagne (ˆ l'ouest de la
France) ; deux *trangers solitaires qui vont devenir
solidaires. Un Espagnol tr*s Don Juan. Et un Russe qui
aimerait plaire ˆ une femme. Road movie contemporain
narrant l'aventure d'une amiti*, et des rencontres. Des
portraits de femmes, et en cin*mascope une Bretagne
rurale "bout-du-mondesque".Paco - Il y a forc*ment une femme pour toi...Une femme
amoureuse de toi, mais qui ne le sait pas encore. Je
suis s*r que dans chaque ville de France il y a une
femme qui tomberait amoureuse de toi en te connaissant.
Quand je dis une femme c'est au minimum, alors quand tu
comptes le nombre de villes qu'il y a en France, *a fait
un potentiel *norme!\Si Western est un film d'homme sur deux hommes,
c'est aussi un incroyable film aveu en faveur des
femmes, dont le cin*aste peint, l'une apr*s l'autre,
toute une galerie, dans le moindre d*tail de leur fa*on
d'envisager, pour chacune, leur rapport aux hommes. =
If Western is a man's movie about two men, it's also an
extraordinary testimony in favor of women, of whom the
filmmaker portraits, one after the other, an entire
gallery, on how each one of them conceives of her
relationship toward men. - Olivier S*guret, Lib*ration,
27 ao*t 1997Reviews by three veteran film critics.
"Two for the Road in Utopian France"
What a tenderhearted delight is Western,Êthe
best-kept secret in town. Don't be put off by that
misleading title: Manuel Poirier's road movie is
actually set in western France, where two funny and
hapless outsiders wind up joining forces and embarking
on a wonderfully droll journey. The story begins when a
salesman from Spain is outsmarted by a wily little
Russian hitchhiker. It's an introduction that hardly has
the makings of a beautiful friendship. But that's
exactly what develops in a funny, romantic film filled
with cozy intimacies and lovely, wide-screen images of
the French countryside.The title of Manuel Poirier's warm and glowing
Western has nothing to do with the American frontier but
refers instead to the ruggedly beautiful west coast of
Brittany. What's more, the terrain it covers is not
geographic but that of the human heart. Winner of the
grand prize at Cannes last year, among other key awards,
"Western" is a delightfully subtle and perceptive blend
of romantic comedy and road movie. Paco (Sergi Lopez), a
shoe salesman born in Catalonia, is driving toward the
port town of Le Guilvenec when he stops to give a pretty
hitchhiker a lift -- only to have her replace herself
swiftly with a slight, wistful-looking man, Nino (Sacha
Bourdo), who she explains has been trying to thumb a
ride for more than two hours.In short order, Paco has his life turned upside
down. Nino gets Paco to make a stop -- and drives off
with his car, which is loaded with shoes. Paco is
sitting by the road in a daze when Marinette (Elisabeth
Vitali) stops to fix a loose license plate, and he
shamefacedly asks her for a ride into town. Paco loses
his job but commences an affair with the lovely
Marinette. But no sooner has an idyll begun for Paco
than Marinette insists that they take a three-week
breather from their relationship to discover how
seriously they feel about each other. Meanwhile, Paco
has spotted Nino, and after a couple of plot twists, the
two end up friends. Nino, a Russian *migr*, persuades
Paco to hit the road with him during that three-week
break.So sure is Poirier's sense of humor and pathos that
all this elaborate but swiftly unfolding plotting
becomes an amusing comment on the workings of fate and
human nature. The film shifts gears as it covers Paco
and Nino's aimless rambling over the countryside. Nino,
it turns out, has been drifting in this manner for two
years, since a Frenchwoman - whom he met in Russia and
came to France to marry - stood him up.Although they instinctively seek contact with as
many people as they can, what Paco and Nino are really
looking for is love. The need for people, men in this
instance, to find someone to love in order to anchor
their lives, is what "Western" is all about.That both men are foreigners inherently heightens
their sense of isolation. Yet "Western" doesn't attack
the French - or Bretons in particular -- for being
insular. To the contrary, most everyone the two meet is
friendly and helpful. The dark, stocky, boyish-looking
Lopez and the diminutive Bourdo are immensely likable
guys, and their adventures are matters of both humor and
pain.American audiences, so conditioned to a fast clip,
may find the film's leisurely paced 123 minutes taxing.
But so consistently fresh is Poirier's take that it's
worth it to sit back and go with the flow. - Kevin
Thomas - Los Angeles Times.Western is a road movie about a friendship between two
men, and their search for the love of the right woman.
The roads they travel are in western France, in the
district of Brittany, which looks rough and dour but, on
the evidence of this film, has the kindest and most
accommodating women in the world.The Meet Cute between the men occurs when Paco, a
shoe salesman from Spain, gives a lift to Nino, a
Russian who lived in Italy before moving to France. Nino
tricks Paco and steals his car, and when the stranded
Paco sees him on the street the next day, he chases him
and beats him so badly Nino lands in the hospital. Paco
visits him there, says he is sorry to have hit him so
hard, and the men become friends. Since Paco has lost
his job along with his car, they hit the road.Road movies are the oldest genre known to man, and
the most flexible, since anything can happen on the road
and there's always a fresh supply of characters. Paco,
who has always been a ladies' man, in fact has already
found a woman: Marinette (Elisabeth Vitali), who
befriended him after his car was stolen and even let him
sleep overnight on her sofa-bed. Soon they've kissed and
think they may be in love, but Marinette wants a 30-day
cooling-off period, so the two men hitch around
Brittany, depending on the kindness of strangers.If Paco has always had luck with women, Nino has had
none. He's a short, unprepossessing man with a defeatist
attitude, and one day Paco stands next to him at the
roadside, points to a nearby village, and says, ''I'm
sure that in that town, there has to be a woman for
you.'' Really?'' ''Yes, there is a minimum of one woman
in every town in France for you.''This belief leads them to conduct a phony
door-to-door survey as a ruse for finding the right
woman for Nino, and along the way they make a new
friend, Baptiste (Basile Sieouka), an African from
S*n*gal, in a wheelchair. He teaches them the bonjour
game, in which they get points every time a stranger
returns their greeting. ``Go back where you came from!''
one man snarls at Baptiste, who laughs uproariously; all
three are strangers in a foreign land.The emotional center of the story comes when Paco
meets a woman named Nathalie (Marie Matheron), who
invites them home for dinner, likes the way Nino cooks
chicken, and unexpectedly goes for Nino rather than
Paco. This woman's lifestyle seems unlikely (she is a
male daydream of an earth mother), but she provides the
excuse for the film's ending -- which is intended as
joyous, but seemed too pat and complacent to me.Western, directed and co-written by Manuel Poirier,
won the grand jury prize, or second place, at the 1997
Cannes Film Festival; that's the same prize ''Life Is
Beautiful'' won in 1998. I think that's because it was
set in France, and so absorbed a certain offhand flair.
The same material, filmed in America, might seem thin
and contrived; the adventures are arbitrary, the
cuteness of the men grows wearing, and when Nino has an
accident with a chainsaw, we can see contrivance shading
off into desperation.The movie is slow-going. Paco and Nino are the kinds
of open-faced proletarian heroes found more often in
fables than in life. Their luck as homeless men in
finding a ready supply of trusting and hospitable women
is uncanny, even unbelievable. The movie insists on
their charm, instead of letting us find it for
ourselves. And although the leading actresses are sunny
and vital, they are fantasy women, not real ones (who
would be smarter and warier).One of the women in the film collects children
fathered by an assortment of men, who capture her fancy
and then drift away, apparently with her blessings. The
movie smiles on this practice, instead of wondering how
she found so many men so indifferent to their own
children. By the end of the film she has given birth to
her own orphanage and could hire the family out as a
package to the casting director for ''Oliver Twist.''
The jury at Cannes loved this, but I squirmed, and
speculated that the subtitles and the European cachet
gives the film immunity. In English, with American
actors, this story would be unbearable. - Roger Ebert -
© Chicago Sun-Time.
--------------------------------------------------------
10. La Promesse, A film byÊ Jean-Pierre and Luc
Dardenne, 1996Synopse du film
Igor travaille comme apprenti dans un garage mais il
aide surtout son p*re qui h*berge des *trangers
clandestins. Son p*re les exploite et les fait
travailler au noir. Il les loge dans des taudis et leur
fait payer des sommes incroyables.Ê Igor aide mais
n'approuve pas son p*re. Il n'est d'ailleurs pas ˆ sa
place dans ce milieu car il n'a que 14 ans. Un jour,
l'un des ouvriers clandestins, Amidou, d*gringole de
l'*chaffaudage et se tue.Ê Mais avant de mourir il a
fait promettre ˆ Igor de s'occuper de sa femme et de son
enfant. Roger, le p*re d'Igor, n'est pas au courantÊ de
cette promesse et dissimule le corps d'Amidou pour ne
pas avoir de probl*me. Il fait ensuite croire ˆ la femme
d'Amidou que ce dernier est parti pour fuir des dettes.
Roger se rend compte qu'Igor veille sur Assita et lui
interdit de l'approcher. Un jour pourtant, Igor tient sa
promesse et d*fie son p*re.La Promesse ou lÕ*veil d'une conscience
Extrait de France-Am*rique:
La Promesse, un film de Luc et Jean-Pierre Dardenne,
relate l'initiation ˆ la conscience morale d'un garcon
de quinze ans qui exploite, avec son p*re, un r*seau de
main-d'oeuvre immigr*e clandestine.La Promesse, qui a *t* tourn* en Belgique en 1996 et
coproduit par ce pays avec la France, le Luxembourg et
la Tunisie, est le troisi*me long m*trage de fiction de
deux cin*astes form*s ˆ la riche *cole du
documentaireÑ*colede probit* - en cela que le genre m*me
qu'elle illustre oblige ceux qui la pratiquent ˆ se
poser quelques questions fondamentales vis-ˆ-vis de leur
sujet, particulierement si celui-ci.touche ˆ l'humain ou
ˆ des probl*mes de soci*t*.C'est pr*cis*ment ce qui se passe avec La Promesse,Ê qui
retrace, selon les propres termes de ses auteurs,
Òl'initiation ˆ la conscience morale d'un gar*on de
quinze ans, exploitant avec son p*re un r*seau de
main-d'oeuvre immigr*e clandestine.ÓLe probl*me social qu'aborde le film est
particuli*rement aigu dans l'Europe des Quinze, mirage
du Nord pour un Sud en manque end*mique de travail
r*mun*rateur ; mais il peut tr*s ais*ment *tre transpos*
sous nos latitudes sans que son acuit* et les
prolongements moraux qu'il induit en perdent le moins du
monde de leur actualit* et de leur int*r*t.Montrer la vie au plus juste
Le jeune h*ros de La Promesse, Igor, confront* pour la
premi*re fois de sa vie ˆ un probl*me de justice
*l*mentaire et de conscience individuelle par un pur
encha”nement de circonstances (son p*re qui vit du
commerce douteux du travail clandestin n'est pas
directement la cause de la trag*die qui va bouleverser
leur vie), va d*couvrir en lui-m*me sous nos yeux les
enseignements fondamentaux de cette conscience morale
qui est comme la charpente de toute vie humaine digne de
ce nom.La promesse qu'il a faite ˆ un mourant, un immigr*
africain clandestin tomb* d'un *chafaudage, il l'a
faite.sans avoir le temps d'y penser ou d'en mesurer les
cons*quences sur la vie de l'adolescent tr*s ordinaire ˆ
partir d'une peinture sans joliesse comme sans s*v*rit*
inutile de faits tr*s ordinaires, d'assister ˆ
l'*closion de cette consciece. Et le sentiment que cette
*closion provoque chez le spectacteur est un sentiment
tr*s rare de jubilation int*rieure, comme un don fait ˆ
notre intelligence par deux cin*astes en prise directe
avec leur temps.Pl*nitude du film et impression de v*rit*
Que Luc et Jean-Pierre Dardenne soient par ailleurs
parfaitement ˆ l'aise pour diriger un ensemble de
personnages dont des acteurs non-professionnels aussi
bien que des com*diens de m*tier assument l'identite ˆ
lÕ*cran, n'est pas un facteur indifferent ˆ la pl*nitude
du film ni a l'impression de v*rit* qui s'en d*gage. Le
style de leur mise en sc*ne est exemplaire dans sa
modestie, dans une simplicit* voulue qui ne distrait
jamais de lÕessentiel qui est de montrer la vie au plus
juste des individus et des circonstances. Un mot
s'impose ˆ la fin de la projection: authenticit*.
Authenticit* dans la peinture d'une violence sociale
tr*s contemporaine et qui nous touchent tous,
authentcit* surtout, dans celle de sentiments humains
qui nous r*unissent et qui sont ˆ travers ce film un
message d'espoir comme le cin*ma nous en donne
rarement.. © France-Am*rique - Par Jean VALLIER - 17-23
mai, 1997. La Promesse ou comment conqu*rir sa dignit*
humaine"Extrait du Journal Fran*ais
Le Journal Fran*ais a rencontr* les fr*res belges Luc et
Jean-Pierre Dardenne, de passage ˆ San Francisco dans le
cadre du Festival international du film. Sereins, tout
de jeans v*tus, ils allaient fumer de temps ˆ autre, ˆ
lÕext*rieur du b‰timent, une ÇpetiteÈ cigarette entre
deux interviews. ÇIci, cÕest dr™le, on ne peut fumer
nulle partÈ, constate Luc en souriant. Quelques
bouff*es, deux trois mots sur leur voyage, le d*cisif
ÇBon, on y va, on a eu notre doseÈ, et les voilˆ tr*s
professionnellement en train de commenter La Promesse.LÕhistoire se d*roule ˆ Li*ge (Belgique). Roger (Olivier
Gourmet, excellent dans ce r™le ingrat), ouvrier au
ch™mage, vit du trafic des immigr*s. Il les fait venir,
leur procure de faux papiers, les loge et les fait
travailler clandestinement, tout cela bien s*r ˆ un prix
*lev*. Igor (J*r*mie R*nier, au jeu tr*s touchant), 15
ans, le fils de Roger, lÕaide dans ce commerce ill*gal,
et est habile lui-m*me ˆ voler et r*clamer leur d* aux
Africains, Roumains et autres Croates. P*re et fils
vivent relativement en bons termes, malgr* quelques
violences de la part de Roger.Un jour, un ouvrier, Hamidou (Rasman* Ouedraogo), tombe
dÕun *chafaudage et est gri*vement bless*. Igor demande
ˆ son p*re de lÕemmener ˆ lÕh™pital. Celui-ci refuse car
les inspecteurs du travail sont sur les lieux, il ne
faudrait pas quÕils trouvent un clandestin. Hamidou
meurt, mais auparavant il aura eu le temps de faire
promettre ˆ Igor de prendre soin de sa femme Assita et
de leur b*b*, qui vivent tous deux dans le foyer des
ouvriers.Roger enterre Hamidou et cette affaire. Il tente aussi
de les faire oublier ˆ Igor et de chasser Assita (Assita
Ouedraogo) par diff*rents moyens. Cependant, la tension
monte entre p*re et fils, et lÕadolescent se retrouve
d*s*quilibr*, partag*. Comment *tre fid*le ˆ son p*re et
ˆ Hamidou? Cela devient de plus enplus impossible,
dÕautant quÕil assiste ˆ la bataille dÕAssita pour
retrouver son mari et savoir la v*rit*. Aussi
douloureuse soit-elle, Igor en arrivera ˆ prendre une
d*cision, celle qui lui permettra de devenir un homme
libre, d*sormais.ÇJÕaimerais que les spectateurs am*ricains soit touch*s
par la r*volte dÕIgor, affirme Luc Dardenne. CÕest une
r*volte difficile, pas du m*me type que celle des ann*es
60 o* les jeunes envoyaient leur p*re au diable pour
trouver leur libert*. Igor doit se r*volter pour trouver
un vrai p*re, pour devenir vraiment lui-m*me. Il nÕa
rien ˆ quoi sÕopposer car son p*rene repr*sente rien. Il
doit sÕen s*parer et trouver un moyen de devenir un *tre
humain, de respecter les autres et de se respecter
aussi.ÈLes fr*res Dardenne ne condamnent pas pour autant le
personnage du p*re, Roger, (m*me sÕils nÕexcusent pas ce
quÕil fait), car, disent-ils, cÕest un Ç*gar*, et il
souffre aussiÈ. Ils expliquent en partie son
comportement comme une des cons*quences de lÕ*croulement
de lÕindustrie. ÇNormalement, Roger devrait *tre
solidaire de ces immigr*s, parce quÕil y a une histoire
li*e ˆ la classe ouvri*re qui est une histoire de
fraternit*. Quand les Italiens sont arriv*s en Belgique
au moment du fascisme et surtout apr*s la guerre, ils
ont *t* int*gr*s tr*s vite parce quÕils travaillaient
sur les m*mes machines, vivaient dans les m*mes
conditions. Mais au-jourdÕhui le march* du travail ne
permet plus dÕint*grer les immigr*s. Et Roger a perdu la
m*moire de la culture ouvri*re, il nÕa pas dÕh*ritage ˆ
transmettre ˆ son fils. Il r*agit ˆ des situations et
nÕa aucun discours qui justifie ses pratiques.ÈLuc et Jean-Pierre Dardenne, r*alisateurs dÕune dizaine
de documentaires sur lÕhistoire du mouvement ouvrier,
sÕint*ressent aux Çgens, ceux qui sont exclus par la
production socialeÈ. Ils essayent de comprendre comment
chacun peut Çdevenir un salaud ou un angeÈ, et observent
la fa*on quÕont certains Ñ et dÕautres pas Ñ de
Çregagner leur dignit* humaineÈ. Tout un programme! ©
Sonia BenjaminReviews
Moral Rebellion at Heart of 'La Promesse'
Morality is a given in the movies; everyone, even the
worst of creatures, knows if they're bad or good. In "La
Promesse," an exceptional film from Belgium, all of that
is reversed as a sense of right and wrong struggles to
emerge in a young man who never knew there was a
difference. The conflicts involved are intense and
absorbing, proving that compelling moral dilemmas make
for the most dramatic cinema.An exciting discovery at both last year's Directors'
Fortnight at Cannes and the New York Film Festival, "La
Promesse" makes being politically relevant and
philosophically thoughtful so simple and involving that
the story seems to be telling itself. Written and
directed by Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne, a pair of
filmmaking brothers, it is made with such unobtrusive
sureness that it's able to exert great power without
forcing anything.Though relatively new to features, the Dardenne brothers
have 20 years of documentary work in Belgium behind
them, and their use of hand-held cameras and probing
close-ups gives "La Promesse" the urgency and immediacy
of total authenticity. Toss in unknown but persuasive
actors and characters whose reality is unmistakable and
you get an idea why this film is as bracing as it is.Ê"La Promesse" is set on the outskirts of the Belgian
city of Li*ge and centers on a 15-year-old apprentice
auto mechanic named Igor . An opportunistic sneak thief
and smooth liar, Igor is like a small animal with dirty
blond hair, casually amoral because in his world the
opposite has never been presented as an option.ÊIgor's universe is completely controlled by his father,
Roger (Belgian stage actor Olivier Gourmet). A pudgy,
bearded and petty despot, Roger has a lie or a threat or
a beating for every occasion. Hot-tempered, violent, a
master of casual betrayals, Roger puts together scams
without end, but he also cares for his son and values
their almost symbiotic relationship.Roger's business is dealing in illegal
immigrants--Turks, Ghanaians, Romanians and Koreans--who
sneak into Belgium looking for a better life. Roger
hides them in a clandestine rooming house, charging them
exorbitant fees for false identity papers while
collaborating with the police when a raid is needed to
satisfy the local politicians.In all of this, Igor, made in his father's image and
hardened by sharing his lifestyle, is a willing
second-in-command. Part man, part boy, he spends the
spare moment when he's not conniving with the old man
putting together a go-kart with his young friends.Igor's life begins to change when Assita (Assita
Ouedraogo) and her small child arrive from Burkina Faso
to join husband and father Hamidou (Rasmane Ouedraogo)
in Roger's boarding house. Assita's individuality
intrigues Igor, and then a jolt of fate shoves their
lives closer. Hamidou has an accident working illegally,
Roger refuses to take him to the hospital, and he dies
after making Igor agree to take care of his wife and
child, the promise of the title.ÊIt's difficult to do justice to how subtly the film
develops from here, how unflinching it depends on
documentary-style realism and expressive faces to make
its points. Though the question of romance never arises,
Igor becomes increasingly protective of Assita, which
puts him in conflict with his father, the only person
who's ever cared about him. It's a predicament that is
as difficult as it is compelling."La Promesse's" actors have differing levels of
experience, with J*r*mie Renier, an impressive natural,
having the least and Assita Ouedraogo (whose first trip
to Europe was to make this film) having appeared in
three films of fellow countryman Idrissa Ouedraogo. But
they all work so seamlessly here we feel we're
eavesdropping on a moral rebellion that is being played
out for the highest possible stakes.ÊAmong the many things it does right, "La Promesse"
refuses to even consider glib solutions. This film
understands that moral choices are a painful,
troublesome business, that decisions to do the right
thing are not simple to take and hardly make things
easier. Nothing in life takes more courage, and no kind
of filmmaking offers greater rewards. © By Kennth Turan
- Times Film Critic.Another Review
La Promesse, a rare import from Belgium, indicates how
grim the mood of a film can become when there's almost
no comic relief. Excepting one or two moments of gallows
humor, there's little to break the relentlessly bleak
tone. Fortunately, the script is written with such
intelligence and the characters are developed so
believably that, irrespective of the downbeat approach
(or, perhaps, because of it), it's difficult not to be
moved by the plight of 15-year old Igor (an unforced
performance by newcomer J*r*mie Renier), who is trapped
into choosing between his father, Roger (Olivier
Gourmet), and the demands of his conscience.When the film opens, Igor is already wise beyond his
years. He's an active participant in his father's shady,
"immigration service" business. Roger is one of those
crooks who makes his money by preying on the desperation
of others. For exorbitant fees, he smuggles illegal
immigrants into Belgium, forges false work permits for
them, and sets them up in slum-like apartmentsÊ (for
which he charges unreasonably high rents). Many of the
immigrants also work at Roger's construction site, where
they are paid a pittance for hard,
occasionally-dangerous work. Igor, who also works as an
apprentice at a garage, serves as his father's
assistant, and has learned to lie, cheat, and steal just
as well as his old man.ÊIn addition to being a criminal, Roger is also a bully.
When his son does something to displease him, he beats
him mercilessly.Ê Despite all that, there's little doubt
that he loves Igor, although he's unable to express his
affection effectively. In addition, he has trained
himself to objectify the men and women he smuggles into
the country, adopting the same basic philosophy as the
Belgian police: "Illegals don't exist." To Roger, the
immigrants are a less-than-human source of income, and
that is a philosophy he attempts to pass on. (This
reminded me of a subplot in John Singleton's RosewoodÊ
in which a father taught racism to his son.)Ê Dad's
lessons are leaving an impression upon Igor until an
event occurs that forces him to re- evaluate what he has
learned.One of Roger's workers, Amidou (Rasmane Ouedraogo),
falls from a scaffold and is critically injured. As he
lies dying, he extracts a promise from Igor to care for
his wife, Assita (played with quiet dignity by Assita
Ouedraogo), and infant boy, both newly arrived from
Bugina Faso. Rather than taking Amidou to a hospital
(where all sorts of difficult questions would arise),
Roger elects to let the man bleed to death, then buries
him under a thick layer of cement. He encourages Igor to
forget the incident, but the boy cannot, and his
attempts to honor his promise to the dying Amidou
generate friction between himself and his father. Worse
still, Assita is often a grudging, if not openly
unwilling, recipient of Igor's aid.ÊEssentially, La PromesseÊ is a variation of that motion
picture staple, the "coming of age" story. The
difference here, however, is that the choices faced by
Igor are more complex than is the norm. Becoming an
adult does not mean, as his father asserts,Ê learning
how to drive and "getting laid" -- it means assessing
the value of his word and heeding the call of his
conscience, regardless of the price. No matter what Igor
does, he will betray someone -- the crux of the matter
for him is determining which betrayal he can live with.
Although La Promesse presents a resolution, it makes it
clear that there are no easy answers for Igor or for us.ÊAs directed by brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
(who have been making documentaries in their native
country for more than two decades), La PromesseÊ has a
"you are there" style that favors a cinema v*rit*
approach to polished photography. In concert with a
quartet of natural performances and a persuasive,
insightful script, this method results in a film that
one could easily accept as non-fiction. Indeed, while
this particular story is an invention of the
writer/directors, a host of universal truths can be
found just beneath the surface.ÊLa PromesseÊ is designed to challenge an audience.
There are numerous instances throughout when viewers
will find themselves wondering what they would do in
similar circumstances. On each of these occasions, the
directors proceed in a logical, intelligent manner, and
rarely stray into melodrama (although there are a few
minor slips here and there). Despite being a low-key
production, La Promesse speaks volumes about how we
treat other human beings and what it means to truly grow
up. © 1997 James BerardinelliAnother Review
Those whose Latin extends beyond "E Pluribus Unum" might
just remember "homo homini lupus" (man is a wolf to
man). That's what the first part of "La Promesse" tells
us. But it is followed by "homo homini agnus" (man is a
lamb to man). At least that's my reading of the third
feature by the Belgian Dardenne brothers.The movie, premiered in a parallel section of the 1996
Cannes Festival, has been highly praised by American
reviewers. It is mostly set in or near the city of Li*ge
(Belgium). It is essentially a two plus two character
drama. The first duo consists of young Igor and his
father Roger. Igor is 15 -- as per information I gleaned
in various documents. (The film proper is rather
frustratingly vague about times, places and other
factual information). The boy, already a heavy smoker
and beer guzzler, but still a virgin, is something of a
Peeping Tom, works in a gas station as an apprentice
mechanic. He swipes the customers' wallets and shows up
at the station fitfully --which results in his
dismissal.Igor is his father's main helper in an illegal operation
of illegal immigrant workers, African, Eastern European,
Korean, etc., whom the ring, for a high price, spirits
into Belgium hidden inside automobiles carries on
car-transport vehicles. Then Roger, charging
outrageously again, gets the immigrants fake papers and
houses them in stinking, disgusting hovels within
decrepit buildings.The traffickers know no decency. When, for example,
there is political pressure on the gang, the operators
sacrifice some of the aliens by pretending they'll be
sent to America (after due payment), but betray them to
the authorities.The story then focuses on an African couple (Amidou and
Assita) and their baby. Amidou, working for Roger, falls
off a scaffolding and dies, but not before exacting from
Igor the promise that he will watch over Assita and her
child. Since the body would cause an investigation,
father and son dispose of it by burial in concrete.(It was unclear to me whether or not Amidou might have
survived if taken to a hospital -- which Roger refused
to do as unsafe for his business. So Amidou's death, may
have to a killing by omission).The man's death is not revealed to his wife. She is told
instead that Amidou had disappeared, run off perhaps to
avoid paying debts. Roger now tries to get rid of Assita
by sending her to nearby Cologne (Germany) where he
would arrange for the woman to work as a prostitute.About 40 minutes into the movie, Igor begins to feel
pangs of guilt that keep increasing. He defies his
father and attempts to come to the woman's help. The
process of a rising conscience and consciousness takes
up the rest of the film. It is intermingled with some
local touches of racism and xenophobia.The entire process is filmed like a documentary, with a
constantly mobile, moving and often handheld camera.
There is obviously a desire by the filmmakers to keep a
realistic look and tone, which is understandable and
adds power to the movie. This technique is valid in
principle. It distances the work from the smooth and
slick Hollywood-type films. But it often goes overboard
and could induce fatigue in the viewers. A modicum of
using the Steadycam system might have helped. ( This
gyroscope-like method, introduced in the mid-70s, puts a
special harness on the operator and allows moving the
machine without jiggling).The episodes are done with naturalness, economical
dialogue and no traditional verbal elaboration. The
burden is on telling details, on implications and on the
facial expressions of the performers. Roger, and above
all Igor, acquit themselves nicely, with the latter's
gradual transformation following a credible development."La Promesse" is as far as one can go from commercial
movies. It is well-meaning but also well-handled, never
showing any traces of glop, sentimentalizing or
romanticizing. Among its virtues is that if you imagine
that this subject had been filmed in routine ways, it
might have made of Assita a colorful --perhaps even wise
-- character. Here, she is rather attractive but, like
her drab surroundings, a sad figure. In a good touch, to
find out if her husband is alive or dead, she consults
the entrails of a chicken and later is taken by an older
African lady to a witch doctor.Both Assita and Amidou come from Burkina Faso (the
former Upper Volta), a small, poor country where,
surprisingly, there is Africa's greatest ferment of
movie-making, partly encouraged by the regular Pan
African festivals in Ouagadougou, the capital. Director
Idrissa Ouedraogo, a winner of major awards (e.g. at
Cannes) is widely known internationally.Their real family names of Assita and Amidou are also
Ouedraogo. It must be Burkina Faso's equivalent of Smith
or Jones or else Idrissa's dozens of relatives have made
it in cinema. A year or two ago, when Idrissa's latest
film was shown at the Cannes Festival, the credits had
such an unending list of Ouedraogos that at the press
screening the critics kept bursting into laughter
exponentially. © Edwin Jahiel
--------------------------------------------------------11. Cyrano de Bergerac (1990) (138 min.) Jean-Paul
Rappeneau (VHS No longer available)Cyrano est passionn*, g*n*reux, h*ro•que et il a de
l'esprit. Il a aussi un nez pro*minent qui le force ˆ
cacher ses sentiments pour sa cousine Roxane. Il pr*te
alors son *loquence et sa plume ˆ son rival Christian
pour s*duire la belle jeune fille. Le film a lieu en
1640, la fin en 1655.L'action se situe au XVIIe si*cle ˆ Paris. Cyrano de
Bergerac, escrimeur redoutable et po*te mais afflig*
d'un long nez, est secr*tement amoureux de sa cousine,
Roxane. Il n'ose lui d*clarer sa flamme. Or le cÏur de
celle-ci ne bat que pour le beau Christian. Cyrano et
Christian vont servir dans le m*me r*giment et
deviennent amis. Mais Christian ne sait pas parler aux
femmes, alors Cyrano va lui pr*ter son *loquence...Synopse du film
Cyrano de Bergerac a vraiment exist*. Il a v*cu ˆ
l'*poque de Louis XIV. C'*tait un soldat et un *crivain
qui a laiss* un curieux roman de science-fiction o* il
d*crit un voyage dans la lune. Ce personnage historique
serait cependant rest* dans une tranquille obscurit*
s'il n'avait pas *t* transform* en h*ros de l*gende et
immortalis* dans une com*die c*l*bre du 19e si*cle.
Cette com*die, intitul*e Cyrano de Bergerac, *crite il y
a cent ans par Edmond Rostand, a connu un tr*s grand
succ*s ˆ son *poque. Depuis, elle a *t* mise en musique,
adapt*e ˆ l'*cran, et maintes fois transform*e et
parodi*e. Le dernier film en date (1990), dans lequel
G*rard Depardieu joue le r™le principal, est une
reproduction assez fid*le de la pi*ce originale.Cyrano de Bergerac est essentiellement une histoire
d'amour, bas*e sur un gigantesque quiproquo
tragico-comique. Cyrano aime Roxane qui aime un autre
homme, Christian. Mais si Roxane a d'abord *t* attir*e
par la beaut* physique de Christian, c'est pour la
beaut* de sa po*sie qu'elle l'aime vraiment. Or, cette
po*sie n'est pas celle de Christian mais de l'infortun*
Cyrano.Cyrano, le h*ros de l'histoire, est un vaillant soldat
du r*giment des Cadets de Gascogne. Il est brave,
courageux, t*m*raire ˆ l'extr*me. C'est aussi un po*te ˆ
l'‰me tendre. Il est bon, loyal, g*n*reux, intelligent,
spirituel, sensible et il *crit de magnifiques vers. Il
a toutes les qualit*s possibles sauf une: il n'est pas
beau.Cyrano est en effet afflig* d'une infirmit* incurable:
il a un nez monstrueusement long. Cette infirmit* le
rend tr*s susceptible aupr*s des hommes, et tr*s timide
aupr*s des femmes. Personne en sa pr*sence ne peut
mentionner le mot "nez". Cyrano est secr*tement amoureux
de sa cousine Roxane, mais il sait qu'il n'a aucune
chance, pr*cis*ment ˆ cause de cet immense nez qui le
d*figure...L'action de la pi*ce se passe dans la France du 17e
si*cle. Dans la premi*re sc*ne, une foule se presse pour
assister ˆ un spectacle de Montfleury, com*dien en
vogue, mais ennemi de Cyrano. Dans cette foule, on
reconna”t tous les personnages principaux de l'histoire,
et d'abord Roxane. Elle est belle, coquette, romanesque
et *prise de po*sie. Tous les hommes sont amoureux
d'elle. ce jour-lˆ, elle est accompagn*e du Comte de
Guiche, un seigneur noble et puissant qui lui fait la
cour. Mais Roxane pense secr*tement ˆ un jeune homme
qu'elle a aper*u un jour et dont elle est tomb*e
secr*tement amoureuse. C'est le beau Christian, qui lui
aussi est lˆ dans la foule ˆ la recherche de Roxane. Le
public s'impatiente.On attend Montfleury, mais on attend aussi Cyrano qui a
promis de lancer un d*fi ˆ Montfleury. Montfleury entre
en sc*ne. Est-ce que Cyrano viendra? Oui, il arrive!
D'une voix *clatante, il ridiculise Montfleury et le
chasse de sc*ne.Tous les spectateurs ne sont pas contents de
l'interruption du spectacle, en particulier de Guiche et
son neveu Valvert. Celui-ci va d*fier Cyrano en lui
disant "Monsieur, vous avez un grand nez"! Stimul* par
cette insulte supr*me, Cyrano se lance alors dans la
fameuse tirade (voir ajout) o* il fait l'*loge de son
appendice nasal. Puis, il traite Valvert de sot et
engage celui-ci dans un duel, tout en composant des
vers. Tout cela se passe sous les yeux de la belle
Roxane, tr*s fi*re de la bravoure et de l'intelligence
de son cousin.Apr*s le duel, Cyrano va accompagner un ami chez lui. Il
tombe dans une embuscade d'o* il sort victorieux ˆ un
contre cent. L'histoire de cet exploit fait le tour de
la ville et Cyrano devient le h*ros du jour.
Entre-temps, Roxane lui a envoy* sa dame de compagnie
pour lui demander un rendez-vous. Intimid*, mais
reprenant espoir, Cyrano va au rendez-vous. Apr*s-un
long pr*ambule o* elle *voque leur enfance pass*e
ensemble et leur longue amiti*, Roxane d*clare son amour
pour ... Le visage de Cyrano s'illumine. Pour lui?
H*las, non! Ce n'est pas lui que Roxane aime, mais le
beau Christian. Oui. c'est lui qu'elle aime et si elle
est venue voir Cyrano, c'est pour lui demander de
prendre Christian sous sa protection. Celui-ci va, en
effet, entrer au r*giment des Cadets de Gascogne, le
r*giment de Cyrano.Cyrano promet de prot*ger Christian, mais c'est d**u et
triste qu'il va rejoindre ses compagnons d'armes. Tout
le monde le salue en h*ros. Cyrano trop pein* ne fait
pas attention. Soudain, Christian, la nouvelle recrue du
r*giment, entre dans la salle. Ne connaissant pas
Cyrano, il se moque de lui, r*p*tant sans cesse le mot
"nez". L'assistance est p*trifi*e! Que va-t-il se
passer? Est-ce que Cyrano va tuer Christian? Non! Fid*le
ˆ la promesse faite ˆ Roxane, Cyrano traite son rival en
ami et en fr*re.D*s lors, Cyrano va assister Christian dans toutes ses
d*marches amoureuses aupr*s de Roxane. Christian avoue
qu'il est sot, qu'il n'a pas d'*loquence, qu'il ne sait
pas parler aux femmes. QuÕˆ cela ne tienne! C'est Cyrano
qui sera sa voix, son porte-parole. C'est lui qui *crira
ˆ Roxane les lettres d'amour que Christian ne sait pas
*crire. L'inspiration lui est facile puisque, lui aussi,
il aime *perdument Roxane.Les lettres de Cyrano, sign*es Christian, enflamment de
plus en plus le coeur de Roxane qui consent ˆ accorder
un rendez-vous au beau Christian. Celui-ci va seul au
rendez-vous, mais sans l'*loquence de Cyrano, il ne dit
que des banalit*s. Roxane, qui s'attendait ˆ des
torrents de d*clarations lyriques, est d**ue et renvoie
le jeune homme. Christian obtient un nouveau
rendez-vous, mais cette fois, avec l'assistance de
Cyrano, qui lui souffle chaque mot de sa d*claration
d'amour, il r*ussit ˆ conqu*rir Roxane dans la fameuse
sc*ne du balcon. Au cours de cette sc*ne, Christian
monte au balcon de Roxane, entre chez elle o* les deux
amants sont mari*s par un pr*tre envoy* par de Guiche,
toujours amoureux de Roxane. De Guiche arrive lui-m*me
chez Roxane o* il apprend le mariage. Furieux et jaloux,
il annonce qu'il vient d'*tre nomm* commandant de
l'arm*e fran*aise charg*e de d*loger les Espagnols de la
ville d'Arras. Il d*cide d'y envoyer sur le champ le
r*giment des Cadets de Gascogne, s*parant ainsi
Christian de sa nouvelle femme.L'action change de lieu. Nous sommes maintenant ˆ Arras
o* le r*giment de Christian et de Cyrano est cantonn*.
La guerre a mal tourn* pour les Fran*ais. Assi*g* par
les Espagnols, les fougueux soldats de Gascogne meurent
de faim. Cyrano veut tenir la promesse qu'il a faite ˆ
Roxane. Chaque jour elle re*oit une lettre de Christian.
En r*alit*, c'est toujours Cyrano qui lui *crit,
*videmment ˆ l'insu de son ami, des billets d'un lyrisme
magnifique.Dans le camp fran*ais, la situation est maintenant
d*sesp*r*e. Sur les ordres de de Guiche, le r*giment de
Gascogne doit *tre sacrifi*. Cyrano *crit ˆ Roxane une
derni*re lettre d'adieu, toujours sign*e du nom de
Christian. Entre-temps, *mue par l'intensit* des lettre
po*tiques de son mari, Roxane d*cide de tout risquer
pour le rejoindre ˆ Arras. Elle traverse les lignes
espagnoles et arrive dans le camp quelques heures avant
la bataille finale. En pr*sence de Cyrano, elle avoue ˆ
Christian que ce n'est plus pour sa beaut* qu'elle
l'aime, mais pour sa po*sie, et qu'elle l'aimerait m*me
s'il *tait laid. D*concert* par cet aveu, Christian part
ˆ l'assaut. Au cours de l'engagement, il est bless*. Il
meurt, r*confort* par l'amour de Roxane et l'amiti* de
Cyrano. La bataille finale a lieu. Pendant cette
bataille, Cyrano et de Guiche combattent h*ro•quement.
Christian est mort, mais sa femme et ses amis sont
sauv*s.Quinze ans ont pass*. Roxane a pris le deuil de
Christian et s'est retir*e dans un couvent. Lˆ, elle
re*oit r*guli*rement la visite de ses deux amis, de
Guiche, devenu duc et mar*chal de France, et Cyrano,
pauvre, mais toujours aussi fier. Un jour, celui-ci
arrive en retard au rendez-vous. I1 a *t* bless* dans
une embuscade tendue par ses ennemis et il va mourir.Ce jour-lˆ, Roxane comprend enfin que c'est bien lui
l'auteur des merveilleuses lettres d'amour qu'elle
recevait de Christian. Cyrano meurt dans ses bras,
finalement aim* par celle qu'il avait aim*e toute sa
vie.La fameuse tirade du nez
The nose diatribe...
Enorme, mon nez! [ ... ] C'est un roc! ... c'est un pic!
... c'est un cap!
Que dis-je, c'est un cap? ... Cest une p*ninsule!'My nose, sir, is enormous [ ... ] A rock, a bluff, a
cape!
- No, a peninsula in size and shape!"'et son poignant monologue final:
Oui, vous m'arrachez tout, le laurier et la rose!
Arrachez! Il y a malgr* vous quelque chose
Que j'emporte, et ce soir, quand j'entrerai chez Dieu
Mon salut balaiera largement le seuil bleu,
Quelque chose que sans un pli, sans une tache,
J'emporte malgr* vous, et c'est ... Mon panache.You take everything - the rose and the laurel too!
Go on, take them! But, in spite of you,
One thing goes with me now and tonight,
When I at last God behold ...
My salute will sweep His blue threshold ...
With something spotless, a diamond in the ash ...
Which I take in spite of you
And that is ... My panache.A Film Review by Roger Ebert
It is entirely appropriate that Cyrano - whose very
name evokes the notion of grand romantic gestures -
should have lived his life bereft of romance. What is
romanticism, after all, but a bold cry about how life
should be, not about how it is? And so here is Cyrano de
Bergerac, hulking, pudding-faced, with a nose so large
he is convinced everyone is laughing at him - yet he
dares to love the fair Roxane. I have made it one of my
rules in life never to have anything to do with anyone
who does not instinctively love Cyrano, and I am most at
home with those who identify with him.The "real" Cyrano, if there was such a creature beneath
the many layers of myth that have grown up around the
name, lived in France from 1619 to 1655, and wrote
stories about his magnificent voyages to the moon and
the sun. He inspired the Cyrano we love, a more modern
creation, the work of Edmond Rostand, who wrote a play
in 1897 that may not have been great literature, but has
captured the imagination of everyone who has read it,
and has been recycled countless times.Steve Martin and Daryl Hannah starred in the wonderful
modern-dress comedy "Roxane" (1987), inspired by the
outlines of Rostand's story, and now here is a
magnificently lusty, brawling, passionate and
tempestuous classical version, directed by Jean-Paul
Rappeneau. Cyrano is played by G*rardDepardieu, the most
popular actor in France, who won the best actor award at
the Cannes Film Festival last May.You would not think he
would be right for the role. Shouldn't Cyrano be
smaller, more tentative, more pathetic - instead of this
outsized, physically confident man of action? Depardieu
is often said to be "wrong" for his roles. His physical
presence makes a definite statement on the screen, and
then his acting genius goes to work, and transforms him
into whatever is required for the role - into a
spiritual priest, a hunchbacked peasant, a medieval
warrior, a car salesman, a businessman, a sculptor, a
gangster. Here he plays Cyrano, gadfly and
rabble-rouser, man about town, friend of some, envied by
many, despised by a powerful few, and hopelessly, oh,
most painfully and endearingly, in love with Roxane
(Anne Brochet). But his nose is too large. Not quite
as long as Steve Martin's was, perhaps, but long enough
that when he looks in the mirror he knows it would be an
affront to present the nose anywhere in the vicinity of
the fair Roxane with an amorous purpose attached to it.Now here is the inoffensive clod Christian de
Neuvillette (Vincent Perez), Cyrano's friend. He is a
romantic, too, but not in Cyrano's league. For him, love
is a fancy. For Cyrano, a passion. Yet if Cyrano cannot
have Roxane, then he will help his friend, and so he
ghostwrites letters and ghost-recites speeches in the
moonlight, and because Roxane senses that the words come
from a heart brave and true, she pledges herself to
Christian. The irony - which only the audience can fully
appreciate - is that anyone with a heart so pure that
she could love a cheesy lump like Christian because of
his language could certainly love a magnificent man like
Cyrano for the same reason, and regardless of his nose.The screenplay by Rappeneau and the skilled veteran
Jean-Claude Carri*re spins this love story in a web of
court intrigue and scandal, with Cyrano deeply involved
on the wrong (that is, the good) side. And all leads up
to the heartbreaking final round of revelations and
truth-telling, and at last to Depardieu's virtuoso dying
scene, which has to be seen to be believed. What other
actor would have had the courage to go with such
determination so far over the top, to milk the pathos so
shamelessly, to stagger and groan and weep and moan
until it would all be funny? Only the French could
conceive and write, and perhaps only Depardieu could
deliver, a dying speech that rises and falls with pathos
and defiance for so long, only to end with the assertion
that when he is gone, he will be remembered for . . .
what? His heart? Courage? No, of course not. Nothing
half so commonplace: For his panache."Cyrano de Bergerac" is a splendid movie not just
because it tells its romantic story, and makes it
visually delightful,and centers it on Depardieu, but for
a better reason: The movie acts as if it believes this
story. Depardieu is not a satirist - not here, anyway.
He plays Cyrano on the level, for keeps.Of course, the material is comic. But it is the frequent
mistake of amateurs to play comedy for laughs, when the
great artists know there is only one way to play it, and
that is very seriously indeed. But with panache.© Roger
Ebert
--------------------------------------------------------12. Ridicule (1996) Patrice Leconte
A note on King Louis XVI (1774-1792)
Louis XVI, though far superior in personal habits than
his grandfather [Louis XV] and possessed with a genuine
desire to govern, was pious and virtuous, but he was
fat, rather clumsy and lacked sustained willpower. He
also ate in excess so that he would often fall asleep
during meetings or other functions in Versailles.
Contrary to Louis XIV, Louis XVI had a very common
appearance and, even when dressed in the best garments,
never looked elegant. His big love was hunting and aside
from this sport, Louis XVI had little taste for the arts
and music, and he was too clumsy to dance. In spite of
these drawbacks, Louis XVI was liked by the French
people. He appeared to have a good heart and to be
worthy of trust His wife, Marie-Antoinette, was
beautiful, charming and at ease in society, in contrast
with Louis XVI, who was clumsy and very ill at ease with
people. Louis XVI adored his wife to a fault, while
Marie-Antoinette had only contempt for him, seeking
frivolous pleasures away from him. She was also a
spendthrift, so much so that she was soon nicknamed
"Madame deficit." The fact that she was the daughter of
the Austrian empress alienated her from the affection of
the French, who remembered that for three hundred years
Austria had been France's enemy. In fact,
Marie-Antoinette never became French. She looked at the
French from an Austrian point of view, and so the French
were very unhappy, not only because they hated the
queen, but because France faced crisis after crisis,
mostly due to the national debt, which was huge and
which tripled after 1774. Between 1775 and 1778 there
were many violent riots because of food shortages and
heavy taxes. Louis XVI was faced with an emergency
situation, but he could not cope with it. The finances
of the state were further drained by France's
involvement in the American War of Independence, a way
for France to get back at England. Of course there was a
more positive aspect to France's assistance to young
America. A number of young noblemen, the famous Marquis
de Lafayette among them, went to the help of the
American patriots. Soon Benjamin Franklin came to France
and dazzled the Court, its women and Parisian salons.
But when the war ended in America, France did not gain
much. First of all the Americans signed a unilateral
treaty with England, and France only managed to recover
later a few minor territories, the islands of St. Pierre
et Miquelon off Newfoundland, that it had lost through
the Treaty of Paris in 1763. The consequences of the
American war were serious for France, particularly
because it showed the French people a model of
government founded on democratic principles. In addition
it drastically emptied the coffers of France to the
point that it required a meeting of the Estates-General
to examine what measures could be taken. Ironically,
this meeing did not do much for France's finances, but
more importantly, it precipitated the fall of the Old
Regime. © Guy Mermier Historical Background of the
French Revolution, p.59-60Ridicule
Gr*goire Ponceludon de Malavoy, un jeune noble
provincial, *clair* mais na•f, arrive ˆ Versailles avec
l'espoir d'obtenir l'aide du roi pour faire ass*cher les
marais qui tuent ses paysans, Gr*goire d*couvre alors
le monde de la cour, le best esprit, les intrigues
politiques, l'amour et les compromissions.In 1783 Baron Ponceludon de Malavoy lives in a southern
area of swamplands that breed mosquitoes that have been
killing hordes of people. He is an engineer with a grand
plan of draining the swamps. Lacking the wherewithal, he
gets on his horse and rides up to Versailles where the
court lives its dolce vita. The French Revolution is
only six years away, but no aristocrat shown seems
conscious of its coming or of anything except
entertainment and being noticed by the King.The King is Louis XVI, who will be guillotined in a few
years, as will his wife Marie-Antoinette and many of the
courtiers. Ponceludon na•vely hopes to gain access to
His Majesty and ask him for life-saving funds. He is
rapidly taken in hand by a protector, the Marquis de
Bellegarde, who is also a doctor (his talents are
gently mocked by the movie) and a scientist. His
experiments have impoverished him, but he is nonetheless
in good standing at Versailles.The Marquis opens the idealist visitor's eyes to the
facts of life at the court. One needs not only sponsors
but wit in a high society where people constantly play
games and are deadly bored by anything approaching
serious issues. They only take seriously unseriousness,
"l*g*ret*" (lightness) superficiality. They practice
"esprit" (wit), "mots" (bons mots), puns, paradoxes,
cutting remarks, rapier repartees, quotable quips or
amusing verse. The Marquis himself is strong along those
lines. Nothing upsets him more than when after a
gathering he thinks of a witticism he could have made
earlier.A clever quip and your fortune may be made. A bad one or
one at your expense, and you are covered with ridicule
and disgraced. Luckily, Ponceludon is not a titled
bumpkin from the provinces, but is well read and has a
great gift for words. The Marquis introduces him to the
nobility, especially to a beautiful Countess, Madame de
Blayac, one of many passing mistresses of the king. She
sleeps with her household clergyman, the Abb* de
Vilecourt.Both the Countess and her Abb* have a fearful talent for
"esprit. " This goes beyond games. Wit can be --and
often is-- used cruelly, to put down people and insult
them, to exact private vengeance, sometimes to reduce
them to a form of dishonor through verbal dueling. Words
are like swords dipped in honey or perfume, but still
lethal. It's all done with exquisite elegance that never
includes the use of vulgar epithets or even ordinary
insults. "Imb*cile" and "idiot" are reserved for social
inferiors.All this goes hand in hand with promiscuity, amorality
and immorality --and with highly amusing situations,
among them a blase nobleman returning from England where
he has discovered "humour. " A pity the film does not
dig deeper in comparisons between wit and humour.Ponceludon is a hit at Versailles, but must conform to
the rules. In just days he spends on clothes his income
for a year. He starts using foppish powder and lipstick.
His mentor advises him not to laugh at his own jokes
and, whenever he laughs, not to do it with his mouth
open. Yet if Ponceludon meets with success, the King is
still hard to reach. Among other stumbling blocks is the
necessity to prove to the court genealogist that his
nobility does go back to the year 1199!Meanwhile back at the Marquis's country home the Baron
has met, argued with and predictably fallen in love with
Mathilde, the daughter of the Marquis, a scientist
herself (she works on diving suits), a pure young woman
who is the opposite of the corrupt courtiers, a daughter
whom her father brought up by the precepts of
Jean-Jacques Rousseau, with naturalness and freedom.
(She's really an anachronistic, late 20th Century young
lady).Matters get complicated. Mathilde, needing funds for her
experiments, has almost accepted to marry a rich old man
who is looking forward to becoming a widower. The scene
of a cynical prenuptial contract is a howl. Ponceludon
is tempted by his new milieu, but he holds steady in his
plans to rescue his people back home. Finally, he does
get into the King's good grace...There's a surprising amount of plot, but it is
subservient to the minute-by-minute details. The
developments include the main figures, a duel, a
touching sequence around the Abb* de l'Ep*e (a real
figure) and his school for deaf-mutes, in which the
court's snobs get their comeuppance, and more...The movie was the opener at the 1996 Cannes Festival. It
is beautifully photographed and scored, with a profusion
of beautiful interiors, exteriors, costumes and
artifacts. The casting is perfect, as are all the
delicious performances. Remarkably, the film has three
newcomers to the screen: Berling (Ponceludon), Godr*che
(Mathilde) and scriptwriter Waterhouse.Director Leconte, known in France for comedies not
exported to the USA, has a sense of humor that he sneaks
even into such films as the thriller "Monsieur Hire, "
and the very offbeat love story "The Hairdresser's Wife.
" He has stated that he did not attempt to catch with
total authenticity the looks, moods, sounds or
lifestyles of the period. Or to draw parallels between
that society and ours. No matter. His quirky recreation
is convincing, his subject is original and the film
drips with Frenchness as much as any I can think of. ©
By Edwin Jahiel
--------------------------------------------------------13. Le fabuleux destin dÕAm*lie Poulain (Jean-Pierre
Jeunet) 2000Am*lie (Audrey Tautou) is a winsome young woman who
works as a waitress in a small Parisian bistro. Raised
by a nervous mother and a doctor father (Rufus), the
only attention she was given as a child was when he
would give her an annual medical check-up. This fleeting
display of love would make her heart beat so fast that
her parents believed she was sick, too sick to go to
school, so Amelie created her own fantasy world, filled
with danger and adventure. Am*lie glides through her
adult life unaware that the loneliness she carried as a
child is slowly building inside her, until one day,
after hearing of the death of Princess Diana, Am*lie
decides she must do something to help herself.This she does, by helping other people. After finding a
small box hidden in the wall of her apartment, Am*lie
decides she will find the original owner and return it
to them. This she does anonymouslyÉ Watching from afar,
Am*lie sees the overjoyed impact this has on the old
man, who is reunited with his prized childhood
possessions, and from this, she is hooked, hooked on
helping the people closest to her. However, when Am*lie
sees an old friend, who as a child was an outcast
similar to herself, Am*lie's beating heart once again
goes into overdrive. The man is Nino (Mathieu
Kassovitz). Nino works for the most part in a sex shop
in the lower part of town, but his major hobby is
collecting the discarded pictures from public photo
booths, and assembling the images in his scrapbook.Both Am*lie and Nino would appear to be made for each
other, but still Am*lie is unable to approach him.
Instead she decides to follow him around; playing mental
games similar to the ones she played on the people whose
lives she was able to sort out. All of this is secondary
however to Jeunet's striking depiction of Paris as a
rose-tinted, candy cane world, in which the clouds are
shaped like bunnies and love conquers all. It is through
this empty majesty of photography, production design,
and one of the most adorably different leading ladies in
the from of Tautou, that we allow ourselves to be pulled
into this world.The film coasts along from one good deed to another,
with one glorious shot after another, so detailed in its
execution that just thinking about a scene later will
make you wont to re-experience the film all over again.
Certainly there are some minor flaws to the film, a
little too sugary in some places, but nothing too
distracting, and it certainly isn't the dumbing down of
foreign cinema that some critics hailed it as. Am*lie is
nothing more than a sweet natured film about, for the
most, a sweet natured character, and is a film so
entertaining and enjoyable, that after viewing Am*lie
once you will no doubt be intoxicated by the joy that
the film transmits.Le pari d'Am*lie c'est Paris.
Car c'est bien Paris que Jean-Pierre Jeunet voulait
filmer." Am*lie est un film sur la victoire de l'imagination,
ce qui m'amusait, c'*tait de retrouver, d'imaginer, de
r*inventer un Paris id*al... ", d*clare-t-il.C'est d'autant plus vrai qu'avant de finaliser ce
projet, la FOX l'appelle pour r*aliser le quatri*me
Alien, et qu'apr*s une ann*e sous les palmiers, il ne
r*ve que de Paris... Un Paris recr**, pour l'occasion :
sans *poque, m*me si l'histoire se passe ˆ la fin des
ann*es 90, un peu r*tro (citro‘n DS), sans embouteillage
ou stationnement sauvage, relativement printanier, avec
des affiches belles et color*es, coh*rentes entre elles,
aucun graffiti, et un ciel constamment bleut*. " Chaque
plan doit *tre un tableau " se justifie-t-il en citant
Kurosawa. Cette exigence esth*tique a demande un travail
de post production chez Dubois (Le Pacte des loups,
Ast*rix, Alien IV). L'*talonneur *tait constamment sur
le tournage pour assister le directeur photo, Bruno
Delbonnel, un copain de 25 ans de Jeunet. C'est aussi le
premier film sans Khondji pour Jeunet. Le r*sultat est
saisissant.Ce cocktail donne une tonalit* diff*rente des autres
opus du cin*aste, o* il remplace la noirceur romantique
par une po*sie amoureuse plus optimiste.C'est aussi la premi*re fois que Jeunet tourne en
ext*rieur. Comme il l'avoue lui-m*me, il fallait bien y
passer un jour. Il n'a pas aim*, d'ailleurs. Trop
incontr™lable : les gens, le temps, l'argent que cela
fait perdre...Et donc de ce m*lange de tournage rue Lepic, rue des
Trois Fr*res et Gare de l'Est, il y a un an, de ces
images piqu*es au zapping de Canal + (l'hallucination du
cheval dans la course cycliste), de la d*couverte de
Jamel au temps de Radio Nova, ou encore d'un CD de Yann
Tiersen *cout* par une stagiaire, de ces Foutaises est
n* Am*lie.Ce que j'aime bien c'est quand les histoires se
finissent bien.Le film est fait pour rendre les gens heureux. Il
transpire une nouvelle maturit* de la part de Jeunet,
qui souhaitait un film positif, o* l'on construit plut™t
que l'on d*truit.
" J'avais envie de faire un film qui soit l*ger, qui
fasse r*ver, qui fasse plaisir.... "N.B.: The above videos cannot be taken out for
individual viewing during the semester.
--------------------------------------------------------
Additional Films to choose from for your individual
presentation:0. Jeux interdits (Forbbiden Games) (1952) 90 mins.
(Black & White) - Ren* Cl*ment - 0730"One of the most important films ever made on the
horrors of war."Five-year old Paulette witnesses the killing of
her parents and her dog by a German bombardment at the
beginning of WWII. A peasant family takes her in, and
she grows close to the youngest son Michel. Together
they become fascinated with death and steal crosses from
the cemetery to adorn her pet dog’s grave. Because of
their ‘crime’, the children are separated, and Paulette
is sent to an orphanage.Cl*ment wanted his film to be a true portrait of
childhood. The children are treated as complicated human
beings, neither "good" nor "bad", but certainly affected
by the violence around them. None of the actors had
considerable experience. Brigitte Fossey, whom Cl*ment
chose to play Paulette, was vacationing with her family
in Nice when the director was testing children for her
part, and her parents appear in the film as Paulette’s
parents.When it was awarded the Grand Prix Ind*pendant
at Cannes in 1952, it was heralded "for having known how
to raise up, with a singular lyric purityand an
exceptional force of expression, the innocence of
childhood over the tragedy and desolation."
--------------------------------------------------------1. Olivier Olivier Agnieszka Holland - 3390
If it weren't so good, it would be glib fun to
dismiss "Olivier Olivier" as a fractured fairy tale for
recondite adult tastes; it's about a little boyon his
way to grandmother's house with a food basket who is set
upon by a wolf. Yet that symbolic overlay is never
intrusive or self-conscious; it's part of the quiet,
clammy art of the film which advances through horror on
intimate detail after another. Directed by the legendary
Agnieszka Holland ("Europa, Europa"), the film is an
existential thriller as chilly and dislocating as
anything by Chabrol or Sluizer or Hitchcock, other
masters of the art."Olivier Olivier," begins with a bright and happy
family that, under it all, is not very bright and happy.
Rural bourgeois, the Duvals, Dr. (he's a veterinarian)
and Mrs. and their two kids live in a picturesque
farmhouse amid prosperity and content. But the family
seethes with secret currents of dysfunction: The two
children, Olivier and Nadine, vie for attention from
their parents; mama Elisabeth secretly prefers Olivier
to Nadine while holding her ineffectual husband Serge in
contempt; Serge, for his part, yearns for freedom from
this batch of whiners.Then one day, like every other day, Olivier
disappears, as if off the face of the earth. Holland, as
it turns out, isn't terribly interested in making a
police procedural, so the details of investigation, the
documentary aspects of the film, seem somewhat
lackadaisical, and that may cost the movie a bit. (One
suspect, who in reality would be grilled like a cheese
sandwich, isn't even interrogated). She is interested in
what the tragedy reveals about the family, and watches
how, in the aftermath of the disappearance, it all but
unravels, to reinvent itself. Serge uses the loss as an
excuse to take off; Elisabeth uses it as an excuse to
drive him away; Nadine uses it as an excuse to get close
to her mother. In a strange way, each of them has
profited from the crime.Six years later, however, the provincial cop who
failed to solve the case, now transferred to Paris,
comes across a particularly smug 15-year-old male
hustler with provocative knowledge about the case. He
concludes the boy is somehow Olivier. And the boy is
amazingly convincing. It soon develops that everyone
involved has a vested interest in believing that Olivier
has been restored.The film therefore has icy parallels to that
other European classic of possible false identity,"The
Return of Martin Guerre," but it proceeds in much more
unsettling ways. It tells us less about society than the
strange culture of dysfunctional families. This young
man is feral and cunning and superficially charming and
an exceedingly quick study. But, despite the
considerable weight of delusion that supports the
interpretation, the question remains: Is he Olivier?Holland draws this game out superbly and
finishes it with a stunning conclusion. Part mystery,
part myth and part cunning psychological thriller,
"Olivier Olivier" is superbly riveting.
--------------------------------------------------------2. La fracture du myocarde (Cross my heart) (1990)
105min. - Jacques Fansten - S-VT 3387A French comedy which became a cult hit. Martin
conceals his mother's death to avoid the soulless French
social services or anonymous orphanage. His classmates
enter into a pact to withhold the information from the
authorities and tension is established through their
intricate efforts to preserve all signs of normalcy. "A
comic essay on the desperate ingenuity of youth." (Time
Magazine)A Film Review by Hal Hinson
Limitless numbers of filmmakers have attempted to
evoke the spirit of Francois Truffaut in their work, and
nearly as man have failed. Jacques Fansten's poignantly
funny "Cross My Heart" is that rare exception; it not
only captures the human Truffaut spirit, but the
Truffaut grit as well.The film deals with one of Truffaut's favorite
subjects, childhood. In particular, it tells the story
of a group of brash eighth-graders who attempt to save
their friend, Martin (Sylvain Copans), from an orphanage
by keeping the sudden death of his mother a secret. At
its heart, the film is a drolly macabre tribute to the
infinite resourcefulness of children. None of Martin's
classmates wants to see Martin put up for adoption;
they've all seen the programs on television about the
horrors of foster homes, and so they decide to secretly
bury his mother and, banding together to provide food
and other necessities, construct a fa*ade of domestic
normalcy to disguise the mother's absence.The film's comedy grows out of the absurd
conspiratorial extremes to which the children are driven
to make their scheme work. First, a coffin must be
found, and notes are passed around class, asking if
anyone has a wooden crate at least six feet tall. One
young girl offers a grandfather clock stored away in her
parents' attic, but only upon one condition -- that she
be told what it's to be used for. Extra muscle, too, is
needed to transport the coffin and dig the grave. And,
of course, a car has to be "borrowed."In this manner, the once-small group of plotters
grows exponentially, until half the school, family
members and even a teacher become accomplices. As the
secret society of conspirators grows, the dynamics
within the group become more complicated. Crushes and
petty jealousies blossom; the air is thick with puppy
love. At times, the movie seems to hover on the edge of
kiddie surrealism, especially when the children begin
shopping around for candidates to adopt their friend.
But Fansten, to his credit, never allows the story to
slip past the point of plausibility. Truffaut, for all
his love of children, was rigorously unsentimental about
them, and so is Fansten. His characters confront their
ever-mounting challenges in a spirit of clinical
amorality. The end justifies all means, no matter how
bizarrely far-fetched they may be. These aren't tender,
big-hearted innocents; they're practical-minded and
sublimely devious, and the love putting one over on the
adultThroughout all this, Martin is more a shell-shocked
observer than a participant. He's the movie's suffering
center, and Fansten never allows us to forget the young
boy's pain. Martin, who has the woebegone eyes of a lost
spaniel, is the source of the film's soulful melancholy;
his emotional loss, and his confusion, anchor the
movie's spirited sense of comic play and give it depth.Fansten has created a world where adults are the
"other," the enemy. And, in the course of telling his
story, he examines the secret bond of children, the
defiant us-against-them mentality that seems part play
and part genuine warfare.genuine warfare. What they're
protecting, Fansten suggests, is their own, uncorrupted,
pre-adult view of life. Childhood is their paradise, and
they've taken up arms, so to speak, to preserve it.
There's an obstinate ferocity in their attempts to
defend Martin, and Fansten doesn't soften it. His view
of children is cleareyed; he acknowledges both their
innocence and their latent cruelty. That, as it turns
out, is this shrewdly hilarious movie's most salient
virtue. © 1999 The Washington Post Company
--------------------------------------------------------3. Le grand chemin - S-VT 1931
ƒt* 1959. Louis, 9 ans, est envoy* pour les vacances en
Bretagne, chez un couple d'artisans, Pelo et Marcelle.
En compagnie d'une amie de son ‰ge, Martine, le peit
parisien d*couvrira les jeux de la campagne, mais il
sera aussi le t*moin, et l'enjeu, des tensions qui
d*chirent les adultes, donnant ainsi ˆ Pelo et Marcelle
l'occasion d'une remise en question de leur vie.Le grand chemin is set in one of those villages in rural
France where, from the church steeple, all you see is
another village and church steeple across a wide, lush
valley. Upon arriving in the village (circa 1960) a
frightened, Parisian ten-year-old, Louis (Antoine
Hubert, son of the director), sees a rabbit clubbed and
skinned, hardly a genial prelude.As in My Life as a Dog, the child's perspective
dominates; here, however, there is nothing poetic about
him, no soliloquies, no na•ve existentializing about
fate. The child is passive, almost frail; when he is
"farmed out' to the village by his pregnant mother (who
has been abandoned by the father), he expresses his
feelings by crying into her dress at a bus stop.His new society in the village is also not so sweet;
there are no funny rural eccentrics, unless one counts
the long-winded cur* and his-long limbed walks around
the village, prayerbook in hand, like some cop on a
spiritual beat. In his adopted ''home" (overlooking a
cemetery) the child is treated well by his mother's
girlfriend Marcelle (An*mone), but is terrified by her
surly, alcoholic, carpenter husband PeloÑthe dour
veteran actor, Richard Bohringer.The toughest scene in the film (and because of its
realism, the toughest in many a recent film) involves
marital rape, which the child overhears while clutching
his bed sheets at night. This terrible scene is pivotal.
Set in a nursery filled with toysÑwhich had been locked
up, as in a Dickens novel, ever since Marcelle and Pelo
lost an infant sonÑthe assault begins the convincing
changes traced in the film's second half. Louis responds
less passively to his terror than we expect, and Hubert
makes credible the way the child's sensitivity works a
small domestic miracle. Homes are seen honestly in this
film, with all their warts; accordingly, its final
sentiment is earned.Le grand chemin charms by quiet significance. Hubert
manages to insinuate all ages and relations into the
screenplay: the celibate priest, the widow (an old woman
who constantly waters and weeds the grave of her
husband), children at different stages of development,
marriages starting, marriages barely surviving,
marriages broken up. This survey of life, backed up by
inclusion of the cemetery in many shots, provides a
symbolic resonance to the title; the grand highway
involves a pilgrimage.Two elements are overdone: the child's active
questioning of Pelo and Marcelle about their dead son
and his sexually wild, little girl companion, Martine
(Vanessa Guedge). The plot calls for some
precociousness, but both examples seem excessive. One
scene where Martine sings arias for the Queen of the
Night rang untrue. But Hubert gives her some
delightfully naughty lines, especially on the church
roof where she uses the steeple gutters so grotesquely
and comically that it might make one of the gargoyles
blush. If he could take his eyes off the view.The French, like the Italians, deal with their religion,
nuns, priests, church, God, heaven with humor. Unlike in
the U.S., they feel that a priest is only a human doing
his best in his chosen field and not an angel sent by a
mysterious God. They are more up tight about violence
than they are about sex.Directed by Jean-Louis Hubert, the real-life father of
Antoine.--------------------------------------------------------
4. Milou en mai / May FoolsÊ- A film by Louis Malle
(1932-1995), 1989 - Personal copy (Video no longer
available)A Preliminary Note on the events of May Õ68
They were two distinct groups with distinct motives and
aspirations involved. On the one hand, there were the
young people (students and others). Their social and
economic importance had massively increased in France as
it had in most other Western countries as a result of
postwar demographic changes and of influence. The
phenomenon of 'youth culture' had arisen in France, the
United States and elsewhere, but changes in social
relations had not occurred at the same time. On the
other hand, there were the 'workers' who had not
benefited as much as they felt they ought to have done
from France's postwar economic success, particularly the
expansion recorded in the ten years since De Gaulle had
returned to power, either through an appropriate rise in
their living standards or through new styles of
management or labor relations. The analysis of the May
Events in the cinema and elsewhere frequently turned on
the relationship between these two groups and on the
mise en sc*ne of what have been called the new social
actorsSynopsis
The portrait of an upper middle-class provincial family
living in Southern France at the height of the lovely
month of May 1968. While Parisians are rioting in the
streets, the wealthy, patrician Vieuzacs gather at their
ancestral home to bury the family matriarch. Mirroring
the social revolution occurring in the French capital,
the Vieuzac clan stir up trouble between the generations
and, in the process, unconsciously destroy the last
vestiges of their aristocratic way of life.While national news can be heard on the radio, including
De Gaulle's message and word of his departure from
Paris, some family members want immediately to discuss
what will happen to the estate. While waiting for the
striking grave diggers, the group leaves the corpse in
the house and goes out for a picnic. The sad family
situation begins to seem like a party or a provincial
version of the free-love and marijuana-smoking fun going
on in Paris.Milou en Mai is, of course, a satire as well as a
pantheist ode to nature. Milou quotes Voltaire: "J'ai
d*cid* dÕ*tre heureux, parce que c'est bon pour la
sant*." (I've decided to be happy, because it's good for
your health.) Of course, are exalted the liberties of
1968, namely the rejection of sexual taboos. There are
moments that remind us of classic scenes from Renoir's
The Rules of the Games (1939), one of the most beautiful
scene is, as in RenoirÕs, an outdoor picnic. Yet, all
this is caricatured: every character is a sort of
archetype: Milou the sexagenarian in communion with
nature; his niece, the lesbian Claire, who brought in
her girlfriend; his sister, the doctor's wife, the
reactionary little bourgeoise, ready to frolic in the
hay with her former boyfriend while her husband-doctor
is away; the pontificating journalist overcome by the
events and whose wife of the moment is a de luxe hippy;
there's also Pierre-Alain, Georges's son, the exalted
student...Louis Malle is a keen observer of French society and the
ÒvaluesÓ reflecting the hedonistic bent of what we call
la France profonde (the "deep France", to copy the
American simile), le fric (money), la bouffe (food), la
"baise" (sex ? a word that must not to be confused with
un baiser - a kiss). WeÕll note also MalleÕs
environmental concerns and the importance that he gave
to the scenery and the countryside.Malle is also a satirist with provocative tendencies,
leading to caricatures and clich*s.To be noted as well the influence of his co-scenarist,
Jean-Claude Carri*re, with his Buelian heritage (fable
and onirism)Review
Louis Malle's "May Fools" has a quality of mellow
contentment. You feel in its images a sense of sunny
embrace, a feeling of comfort and leisure and warm
sensuality. You absorb it, the way you do the dappled
light in the paintings of Renoir, or a clear, vivid day
with a blanket laid out in the grass and wine rising in
your blood. You bask in it.The movie is Malle's homage to those pleasures we think
of as particularly French, and in making it, he is
working out of the most affectionate, the most humane
part of his nature; it's his most easy-flowing,
bountiful movie. The film's spirit is one of
affectionate satire, and its style suggests a
commingling of Chekhov and Mozart and both Renoirs --
the filmmaker, Jean, and his father, Pierre Auguste.The story it tells is projected against the events of
May 1968 when, all over France, a wave of radicalism
threatened to leave sweeping social changes in its wake.
The film's setting, though, is far away from the strikes
and the riots and the free-thinking students who led
them. At the rather ramshackle old country estate where
the movie takes place, these upheavals are threatening
only in a distant, abstract way. Life for Milou (Michel
Piccoli), the amiable older son who presides over the
house with help of the family matriarch (Paulette
Dubost) and their meager staff, is as it has been for
most of his 60-odd years -- peaceful, unstructured and
geared to the rhythms of nature. But with the mother's
death and the gathering of the clan for her funeral,
Milou's world teeters as precariously on the edge of
revolution as the rest of the country. Everywhere,
change is in the air.Though Malle and his co-writer, Jean-Claude Carri*re,
draw these comparisons for us, they don't force them.
Most of the information about what's happening back in
the city comes by way of broadcasts on a battered old
radio that sits irreverently close to where the body of
the old woman has been laid out, or from members of the
family as they arrive. For years, most of the family has
remained distant from the family home, paying little
attention to the estate or Milou, its ne'er-do-well
custodian. Each one, though, has his own designs on the
place. Most of them are united in the feeling that for
too long Milou has benefited from their generosity. His
daughter, Camille (Miou-Miou), the pampered wife of a
doctor and mother of three, begins immediately to go
through her grandmother's jewelry, while his brother,
Georges (Michel Duchaussoy), and their niece, Claire
(Dominique Blanc), plot the sale of the house and the
division of the profits.Milou, meanwhile, looks on with horror, powerless as his
way of life is systematically dismantled. Yet in the
face of all this, a kind of giddiness overwhelms him.
When Georges's son, Pierre-Alain (Renaud Danner), shows
up, full of radical ardor and tales of a new order where
people make love openly in the streets, "just for the
pleasure of it," Milou's worries melt away. And the
others are swept up in euphoria as well.Suddenly, new alliances are being forged. The casual
flirting that Milou has indulged in with Lily (Harriet
Walter), Georges's younger, liberal-seeming English
wife, takes on a new urgency. Claire's lover (Rozenn Le
Tallec) takes up with Pierre-Alain, and Claire with the
randy trucker who gave Pierre-Alain a lift. For a
moment, they all lose their inhibitions. Picnicking
under a tree, they drink wine and smoke pot and let
their fantasies soar. And in that idyllic instant,
something new seems to be dawning.These sun-licked afternoon scenes have a dreamy lyricism
and beauty; they're masterful in a quiet, understated
way. Malle and Carri*re poke gentle fun at the fatuity
of this bourgeois play-acting, but they don't begrudge
the characters their kicks. There's a marvelous scene in
which the group, flying high from their indulgences and
all that talk of free love, treat themselves to a
rambunctious conga (which just happens to snake around
the mother's body). And another in which Claire, as the
militant front line in the new sexual revolution, takes
off her blouse (in front of everyone) and offers her
body for experimentation.Malle has called "May Fools" a "divertimento," and
throughout, his touch remains musical, delicate and
precise. All the elements -- including Renato Berta's
luxuriant images and Stephane Grappelli's kicky jazz
score -- are kept in perfect balance. The acting too. At
the center of it all is Piccoli's Milou, the rumpled
hedonist, and this graceful, resonant actor gives him
just the right touch of charming laziness and
self-absorption. Piccoli is marvelously ingratiating in
the role.Milou has never quite grown up, and there's a paunchy
innocence in his simplicity that makes him seem
compatible to the new shifts in the culture. He's a
natural flower child. Ultimately, though, what he comes
to represent is the resilience of tradition and the
status quo. After the storm clouds of radicalism have
passed, very little of real consequence has changed. And
earlier in his career, this might have provoked rancor
in Malle. But there's a generous acceptance in the
director's point of view. With age (and perhaps the
distance of living part time in America), he seems to
have come to peaceful -- though clear-eyed -- terms with
his Gallic roots. The last section of the movie falters;
at just the point when we need some resolution for his
ideas, some sense of closure, the picture dribbles away
into vagueness. But the movie's spirit is infectious;
its effects are the same as those of Grappelli's music
-- it makes your limbs hang looser, your soul unclench.
If this isn't a great movie, it's a radiant,
pleasurable, nearly great one. - Hal HinsonAnother Review
The month in which Louis -Malle's "May Fools" ("Milou en
Mai") takes place isn't just a any old May. It's May,
1968, when, for a few chaotic weeks, French society
seemed on the verge of remaking itself Ñradically,
comprehensively, and for good. Students were rioting:
ripping up the ancient, narrow streets around the
Sorbonne to create barricades of paving stones;
occupying buildings that represented to them the
official culture of which the French are so inordinately
proud; filling the air with insistent demands for the
reform of the national educational system, for the fall
of a the conservative government of President Charles de
Gaulle and Premier Georges Pompidou, or simply for
anarchy. Seizing on the momentum of the students'
protests, the unions and the parties of the left took
the opportunity to bring the country's normal commercial
life to a standoff. Most of France went on strike: banks
closed, deliveries stopped, trains didn't run ; gas for
cars was almost impossible to come by.This amazing convulsion signalled to its participants
the beginning of a revolution, yet many ordinary
Frenchmen perhaps the majorityÑexperienced it as a novel
kind of entertainment: an unscheduled holiday, a few
weeks of roughing it without the comforts (or the
tedium) of bourgeois routine. They had the thrill, too,
of feeling that great drama was unfolding around them,
that the everyday reality of France was turning into the
ultimate New Wave movieÑheady, intense, exciting even
when it wasn't as quite coherent, like something by
Godard. (In our terms, France in May, '68, was a bizarre
hybrid of the stark confrontation of the 1968 Democratic
Convention and the idyllic noble-savagery of Woodstock.)
When the dust cleared, De Gaulle was still in power, and
France, with its usual unshakable self-confidence, went
on about its business.The characters in "May Fools" are far removed from the
stirring street theatre of May, 68, but, like everyone
else in France, they're affected by it nonetheless. All
the action in this film takes place in and around a
rather shabby estate somewhere in the countryside: a
big, musty old house stuffed with antiques of dubious
value and surrounded by land that was once a vineyard
and is now just land. The lord of this spacious and
useless property is Milou (Michel Piccoli), a genial man
in his sixties. He has the look of someone for whom life
has always been serenely uncomplicated. Under his
extremely casual supervision, the family's fortunes have
run downhill, but his relatives don't bother him much;
they're scattered all over, escapees from the rural
boredom that suits Milou so well, and they're glad to
let him take care of his aged mother, the rambling
house, and the unproductive land. Contentedly free from
scrutiny, Milou lives the life of a lazy country
sensualist: he keeps his bees, browns in the sun, and
gropes the housekeeper. (When the roof needs fixing, he
sells a Corot.) On the sunny May day when the story
begins, his mother dies taking her last breath while she
is slumped on a bench where children's dolls sit and
Milou summons the rest of the family for the funeral and
the reading of the will. As the relatives arrive,
bringing cars, kids, lovers, and their own noisy
personal agendas into the peaceful oasis of Milou's
little world, the movie starts to take shape. There's a
sense that things are about to change, both on the large
scale of French society and on the infinitely smaller
one of Milou's life; everything that has been allowed to
bask, unchallenged, in happy inertia is going to be
shaken up, forced to account for itself.Malle and his co-writer, Jean-Claude Carri*re, don't
push the parallels too far. They use the upheaval of
May, '68, very deftly: it intrudes on their comedy like
distant thunder on a sunny day, and the threatened
downpour of Meaning never develops - we get a cooling
shower of light ironies instead. The movie sometimes
evokes Chekhov (especially "The Cherry Orchard" and
"Uncle Vanya") and somtimes the Jean Renoir of "The
Rules of the Game." (Milou's mother is played by
Paulette Dubost, who, fifty-one years ago, was the
flirtatious maid Lisette in Renoir's film.) But it
doesn't - really strive to be great. Malle and Carri*re
keep the tone airy and relaxed. "May Fools" just bounces
along to the ???? musical rythm of its remarkable score,
composed and played by the eighty-two-year-old jazz
violinist Stephane Grappelli; the movie, like the music,
has a delicate, joyful swing to it.And the revolution that is apparently in progress all
over France is part of the texture. Everyone who arrives
at Milou's house has been closer to the events than he
has, and has something to tell him about the historic
turmoil beyond the boundaries of his estate. He listens,
although he isn't terribly interested in the outside
world: he doesn't even own a televisionÑonly an ancient
radio, which is invariably switched on by someone else.
His daughter, Camille (Miou-Miou), turns up fuming about
the demonstrating factory workers she had to drive
through to get to the house. A savagely uptight
bourgeoise, with a doctor husband and three chidren, she
believes that what the protesters need is "a firm hand"
to slap them down; speaking of her grand-mother's death,
she proclaims, inanely, "The revolution did her in." His
brother, Georges (Michel Duchaussoy), a journalist, is a
news junkie, who keeps his ears glued to the radio and
talks only about politics. (He's a Gaullist, so he's
nervous.) The arrival of Milou's niece, Claire
(Dominique Blanc)Ñshe's the daughter of his late
sisterÑis delayed by the gas shortage. Late in the
movie, Georges's son, a student named Pierre-Alain
(Renaud Danner), drops in, having hitched a ride from
Paris; he gives the family a fervent, lyrical eyewitness
account of the revolution in the streets of the capital.
"You can't know what's going on," he says. "It's
completely new." Camille and Georges argue with him;
Claire's young lover, Marie-Laure (Rozenn Le Tallec), is
transported by Pierre-Alain and his tales of heroism,
and becomes an instant convert to revolution (and
heterosexuality). Milou doesn't look very attentive
until the conversation turns to the sexual revolution.
Pierre-Alain announces, "At last, people are making love
for the pleasure of it," and the old satyr is all ears.
He has been flirting seriously with Georges's young
second wife, a hippie-ish Londoner named Lily (Harriet
Walter); this is just the sort of talk he likes to hear.The movie's central joke is that this aging, apolitical
landed gentleman is in some sense an embodiment of the
spirit of May, '68Ñnot an enemy of the revolution but an
unlikely cornrade. (At one point, he belts out a
full-throated rendition of the "Internationale.") He
responds instinctively to the irresponsible, anarchic
aspects of the students' revolt: he has lived his whole
life with the sole purpose of remaining a childÑfree to
take his modest pleasures where he finds them, in the
open air and the cool, familiar rooms of his boyhood
home. When the other members of the family, led by his
greedy daughter, express their eagerness to sell the
property and divide up the contents of the house, Milou
throws a tantrum. "I want to die here!" he shouts. "It's
my right! No one can rob me of mychildhood!" His
innocence could be pathetic, but it never is. Piccoli,
in one of the best performances of his long career, is
so vigorous and radiantly good-humored that we can't
feel sorry for him; and Malle, although he treats Milou
with some irony, is always unmistakably on his hero's
side.This sympathy is a large part of the picture's charm;
sometimes, though, that charm feels a bit too easy. When
"May Fools" is at its best, it seems to vindicate the
childlike spirit of Milou and to give the youthful ardor
of May, '68, a poetic glow. Malle aims for, and mostly
achieves, a graceful, drifting style, a mood of blissful
sun-dazed inconsequence. When his touch falters, as it
does in a few sequences toward the end, the movie verges
on triviality: its concerns seem too small, its humor
seems too cozily "Gallic," its point of view seems too
mild and noncommittal. Its refusal to come to much could
be taken, perhaps, as an ironic reflection of the
ultimate lack of consequence ofÊ the May '68,
revoltÑFrance returned to the (slightly reformed) status
quo with alarming speed and efficiency. But that's
strictly an intellectual justification: the film doesn't
have to blow away like dust just because the revolution
did.As determinedly minor as "May Fools" is, it's enjoyable
throughout. It's all moments, lovely flashes of
intelligence and observation, and some are exhilarating:
a closeup tracking shot of Milou riding his bike through
the overgrown fields; a scene in which, for the
entertainment of a grandchild, he catches crayfish by
sticking his hands in a stream and letting the creatures
clamp onto his fingertips; a beautiful scene in which
Milou, on the night after his motherÕs death, cries
quietly in his bed and a small owl appears on his
windowsill; a leisurely picnic on the grass, under a
spreading tree, with the characters sprawled in a wide
circle, and Milou announcing, a little drunkenly, "I
haven't felt so young in thirty yearsÑlong live the
revolution!" The gentle sort of liberation that Louis
Malle proposes in "May Fools" seems, for an instant, to
bridge the gap between 1938Ñwhen Milou felt young, and
Renoir made his Popular Front film about the real
Revolution, "La Marseillaise," and Grappelli was hitting
his stride - and 1968, and even the gap between 1968 and
our not very hopeful present. In this picture we can
almost hear Malle, as he strolls through his memories of
that May, singing to himself "Allons, enfants," very
softly, a tender anthem. - Terence Rafferty. © The New
Yorker 66: 73-75 (July 16, 1990)Some Questions:
1. The English title, May Fools, in fact, seems to
better characterize the film than the original French
Milou en mai. In what sense?
2. May Fools is, of course, a satire as well as an ode
to nature. What are some of the pantheistic notations
that you have retained?
3. May fools is a film that reveals a great deal about
we call in FrenchÊ la France profonde i.e. the
quintessential of France itself, which can be summed up
in three words? Three slang French words, FBB for
short.Ê Which three words in proper English?
--------------------------------------------------------5. La vie est un long fleuve tranquille (Life is a Long
Quiet River), 1987. S-VT 3397Deux familles, les Le Quesnoy et les Groseille,
n'auraient jamais pens* se conna”tre, l'une *tant
bourgeoise et l'autre prol*taire. La vengeancce d'une
infirmi*re humili*e va pourtant les forcer ˆ se
m*langer, et cette rencontre va avoir des cons*quences
tout ˆ fait inattendues...An understated social comedy about a nurse who takes
revenge on her indifferent lover, a married doctor, by
switching two newborn babies. The narrative picks up 12
years later, as the two radically different families
adjust to the severe changes when the children are
returned to their rightful parents. Chatiliez dissects
the mores of the two families, the upper middle class Le
Quesnoys and the nefarious, criminal Groseilles.A Film Review by Rita Kempley
The French, who don't like anybody very much, not
even each other, understandably went bonkers for "Life
Is a Long Quiet River." A sour little social diatribe by
first-time filmmaker Etienne Chatiliez, this tale of two
families, a nurse scorned and the gynecologist who done
her wrong, wrong, wrong was a moneymaker that won four
C*sars (French for Oscar).Heretofore famed for making hamburger commercials,
Chatiliez brings a salesman's cynicism to this harsh
comedy of social mechanics and class rivalry. You can
practically see him twisting his whiskers as he plays
with the wretches caught up in this xenophobic thesis on
what counts most in a child's upbringing -- heredity or
environment? Never mind all those twin studies that
indicate it's in our genes; Chatiliez says our fate is
all in whether we are raised by porky Algerian layabouts
or prim French bourgeois.Written by Chatiliez and Florence Quentin, the story
turns on the machinations of Josette, a nurse who
decides to get even with her neglectful lover by
switching two babies the lecherous old alcoholic has
just delivered. Twelve years pass, Dr. Mavial has just
lost his wife and Josette expects that he will marry her
as promised. But at graveside, the malevolent Mavial
says of his wife, "Je ne pourrai jamais la remplacer."
"I will never be able to replace her." So Josette posts
two letters -- one to the trashy Groseilles and the
other to the proper Le Quesnoys.The Le Quesnoys, a preposterously perfect family,
are horrified to learn that their daughter, Bernadette,
is really inferior material and that their real son,
Momo (Benoit Magimel), is a hard-drinking purse
snatcher. They decide toadopt Momo and to hide the truth
from Bernadette. The Groseilles agree to relinquish both
children for a large sum of money, which they quickly
spend on tacky outfits, junk food and hair-coloring
products. Seeing their plight, Momo pawns his new
family's silver and shares his newfound wealth with his
old family.One day Momo brings some of the repressed Le Quesnoy
kids to visit the Groseilles, and the petit-bourgeois
are delighted with the carefree lifestyle of the uncouth
immigrant family. The eldest son is seduced by the
Groseilles' eldest daughter, a slut, and the others take
to drinking beer. Inevitably, the Le Quesnoys are
destroyed because "Momo can't escape the dirty, nasty
habits he's picked up."Except for Bernadette, who has a nervous breakdown
when Momo tells her she was born of le pond scum, there
are no sympathetic characters whatsoever. But there are
some wonderfully insipid performances by H*l*ne Vincent
and Andr* Wilms as Madame and Monsieur Le Quesnoy.
Vincent, best known for her theatrical accomplishments,
is ludicrous perfection as the ultimate French wife and
busy mother, who spends her free time aiding a
pop-singing priest with his church hoote nannies.The Groseilles are ethnic caricatures, greasy fatsos
grossly played. Christine Pignet weighs in most
prominently as Madame Groseille, a mole-faced Gallic
tugboat with the dimensions of Roseanne Barr. Chatiliez
and his colleagues leave no doubt about it, thin people
make better parents. Civilization is buckling under the
combined tonnage of overeating and bad manners. © The
Washington Post
--------------------------------------------------------6. La Femme Nikita (1990) Luc Besson S-VT 4066
In the new French movie La Femme Nikita, the
Pygmalion legend takes on a perverse twist: a sexy,
scruffy, homicidal waif goes to a secret-agent charm
school and comes out as a high-heeled government
assassin. A box-office hit in France, Nikita reaffirms
the ability of French directors to make preposterously
stylish movies about untamed women. Ever since Roger
Vadim made sex symbols of Brigitte Bardot and Jane Fonda
in the 1960s, French film-makers have been playing with
the hemline between art and exploitation. Nikita is a
thriller about a wild child of the streets who is turned
into a gamine killing machine. In the guise of an
action movie, it unfolds as a thinly veiled sexual
fantasy about a seductive slave--a punk Pretty Woman
with a licence to kill.The story opens with a bloody shoot out as police
intercept a gang that is robbing a pharmacy. Nikita
(Anne Parillaud), a junkie desperate for a fix, crouches
in a corner. As a cop comforts her, she shoots him in
cold blood. The courts sentence Nikita to death. But
the police fake her execution and offer her a new
identity--if she agrees to be trained as a hit woman for
the state. At first, she lashes out at her instructors
like a vicious animal. But her ruthless supervisor, Bob
(Tcheky Karyo), breaks her rebel spirit and teaches her
discipline. Meanwhile, Amande, a make-over artist
played by veteran actress Jeanne Moreau, schools her in
the feminine graces.After years of incarceration, Nikita goes out
into the world as a professional killer. She falls in
love with Marco (Jean-Hugues Anglade), a benign
supermarket checkout clerk. She tries to keep her job a
secret from him. But as she gives in to what Amande
calls "feminine fragility," she finds it increasingly
difficult to carry out her assignments.Nikita's sexual politics are outrageous.
Director Luc Besson, 32, makes an amusing fetish of
putting huge guns in his heroine's delicate hands.
Sometimes, however, the degradation gets all too
literal. In one scene, sheathed in a black mini-dress,
Nikita escapes a gang of killers by slithering down a
restaurant garbage chute into a trash bin. Weeping, she
walks home barefoot in the rain, her high heels in her
hands, her stockings artfully laddered and smeared with
blood. Despite the movie's cartoon-like sexism, it is
hard not to be dazzled by Besson's technique. The
action scenes are rivetting. The director's visual
flair makes Nikita the most stylish French thriller
since Diva (1981). And Parillaud performs with
startling intensity--even when Besson treats her less
like an actress than a model being put through her
paces. Both avenger and victim, Nikita is the latest
prototype in France's search for the ultimate femme
fatale. © Brian D. Johnson, Maclean's, April 8, 1991
v104 n14 p47(1) Rev. grade: A.L'histoire de Nikita
"Elle a dix-neuf ans, ne s'entend pas avec ses
parents et n'aime pas ce monde. Cette jeune fille
surnomm*e Nikita est une "ado" [adolescente] comme
tant d'autres, un peu plus d*sesp*r*e peut-*tre... Et
puis tout bascule tr*s vite dans sa jeune vie : c'est la
rencontre avec une bande de copains, avec eux elle boit,
fume, essaie la dope et la descente commence. En
quelques mois, Nikita est en manque, d*truite, pr*te ˆ
tout. La voilˆ m*l*e ˆ un casse de pharmacie qui tourne
au drame. Sans m*me s'en rendre compte, elle descend un
flic d'une balle dans la t*te. Tribunal. Peine maximale:
trente ans. Prison. Lˆ, on lui administre une piq*re.
Pour se d*barrasser de cette ado enrag*e? Au contraire,
pour l'utiliser, pour canaliser cette rage et la mettre
au service des basses besognes de l'Etat! Au r*veil, Bob
est ˆ son chevet, il lui propose cette "chance." Nikita
n'a pas le choix, elle accepte. A partir de lˆ, trois
ann*es durant, les missions s'encha”nent, toujours plus
difficiles, plus violentes. Trois ann*es qui vont faire
d'un chat furieux un berger allemand robotis*, pr*t ˆ
ob*ir aux pires ordres d'un Bob qui a su s*duire la
rebelle . . . Nikita tient le coup. Mais enfoui tout au
fond d'elle-m*me, il y a encore un coeur de femme, qui
va battre un jour pour Marco, le jeune type tr*s doux
qui l'aime et l'accepte telle qu'elle est. . C'est
peut-*tre ce qui va d*r*gler la belle m*canique mise au
point par Bob: Nilkita prend conscience petit ˆ petit
de l'absurdit* de sa situation, du chantage dont elle
est l'objet et du cynisme du syst*me qui la pi*ge. Alors
elle se r*volte. Mais sa seule vraie chance de s'en
sortir, c'est une solution radicale: quitter ˆ la fois
Bob et Marco." Tir* de: L'histoire de Nikita, Paris:
Bordas, 1993.Addendum: A ten-minute video clip of that of the
American remake of La Femme Nikita, Point of no Return
(John Badham, 1993) focusing on the respective treatment
of Nikita (Anne Parillaud) and beauty consultant, Amande
(Jeanne Moreau) with their American counterparts,
Bridget Fonda and Anne Bancroft. "Deux choses sont sans
limites, la f*minit* et les moyens d'en abuser." "Two
things have no limits, advises Amande: femininity and
the means of taking advantage of it."
--------------------------------------------------------7. La Haine (Hate) (1995) Mathieu Kassovitz - S-VT
3604La Haine,un constat radical sur le foss* s*parant la
police des jeunes des banlieues.Bref historique:
La banlieue sous les feux de la "haine"
* 7 D*cembre 1986. A Paris, au cours d'une manifestation
*tudiante, un jeune beur, Malik Oussekine, est
s*v*rement "bouscul*" par les CRS. Il meurt quelques
heures apr*s.
* 9 Ans plus tard, s'inspirant de cet *v*nement,
Kassovitz r*alise "La Haine", qui raconte 24 heures de
la vie d'une cit* apr*s une bavure polici*re.
* 7 juin 1995. A Noisy-le-Grand, Belkassem Belhabib, 24
ans, se tue au guidon d'une moto vol*e, alors qu'il est
pris en chasse par les CRS.
* Cet *t*, dans les banlieues fran*aises, plusieurs
altercations ont eu lieu entre jeunes et forces de
l'ordre.Source: Site Web de La Haine:
http://www.virgin.fr/virgin/html/urban/haine/haine.htmlHate (La Haine) is the second feature film from
award-winning 25-year-old French actor turned
writer/director Mathieu Kassovitz, who snagged a Most
Promising Young Actor C*sar the same year ('94) he
wrapped this bleak little social commentary. A swift,
ruthless, black-and-white polemic on the decaying state
of French race relations, "Hate" plays like equal parts
Spike Lee and MTV, and packs the single most vicious
parting punch of any film this critic's seen since
"Reservoir Dogs". Kassovitz's main characters are a
racially diverse trio of poor, unemployed Parisian
housing project kids, integrated mainly by their shared
aimlessness: Motormouth Arab drug dealer Sa•d,
politically conscious black boxer Hubert and literally
"Hate"- full Jewish thug Vinz.Prowling through the remains of last night's
riot, they squabble with local cops, score and smoke
pot, and endlessly debate pop culture trivia like the
exact calibre ofthe gun in Lethal Weapon.They also try
to decide whether or not to use that very real gun Vinz
recently found to avenge the hospitalization of another
friend who was beaten while in police custody -- so
badly he might yet die. Juggling realism and artifice
with fluid skill, Kassovitz balances his roster of
expected 'hood movie mainstays -- brandished weapons and
slang-laden verbal abuse set to the incessant pulse of
passing boom-boxes -- with inspired touches: The
all-inclusive title credits sequence, played out over
vide footage of an actual riot, allows him later to
reinforce the movie's ending by letting it just suddenly
end. No further credits. Not to mention the sporadic
(but welcome) infusions of true Gallic weirdness. Only a
French filmmaker, for example, would stage a heated
discussion in a public washroom, then allow it to be
interrupted by a geriatric dwarf, who recounts a long
anecdote about how a friend of his once died while
trying to take a dump -- let alone punctuate another by
breaking loose with a sudden, breathtaking crane shot,
swooping around a tenement courtyard, as an aspiring DJ
scratches NWA's "Fuck Tha Police" together with Edith
Piaf's "Non, rien de rien, je ne regrette rien." It's
crazed moments like these that make up for a certain
heavy-handedness in the narrative, as embodied by Hate's
bookend quote, comparing France to the man in the old
joke who jumps off the top of a skyscraper -- with every
floor he passes, he tries to console himself by saying:
"So far, so good. So far, so good. So far, so good." As
Vinz notes, however, it's not how you fall that matters.
And what undercuts Kassovitz's otherwise stunning vision
is that he has no apparent theories on where his
beleaguered generation is likely to land. © Reviewed by
Keith Simanton
---------------8. La vie r*v*e des anges DVD 0177 + personal copy
La vie r*v*e des anges est u n film important qui
d*peint la vie de deux jeunes Fran*aises dÕorigine
modeste luttant contre quelque chose de plus grand
quÕelles-m*mes - les passions, la hi*rarchie sociale et
*conomique, le pass* - dans lÕEurope post-industrielle,
moderne.Repr*sentant la France aux Oscars de 1998, La vie r*v*e
des anges est une oeuvre dramatique port*e par la force
de deux com*diennes et deux personnages. Elodie Bouchez
(Isa) et Natacha R*gnier (Marie), qui furent justement
r*compens*es par un double prix dÕinterpr*tation
f*minine au 51*me festival de Cannes.Situ* ˆ Lille ˆ la fin des ann*es 90 et racont* dÕune
mani*re lin*aire, le film poss*de une structure assez
rigoureuse qui rel*ve dÕune s*rie de contrastes et de
substitutions. Optimiste, brune et nomade, vivant de
petits boulots et voyageant avec son sac ˆ dos, Isa
suscite des souvenirs cin*matographiques, du moins dans
les premi*es s*quences, en rappelant le personnage
errant de Mona dans "Sans toit ni loi" de Varda. Par
contre, plut™t mal dans sa peau, Marie fait contraste
avec sa camarade. Critique et arr*t*e dans ses opinions,
sujette aux exc*s de col*re et gouvern*e par des d*sirs
quÕelle ne parvient pas ˆ articuler, elle habite depuis
toujours Lille et sa banlieue. Amies de hasard, toutes
les deux cherchent, souvent ˆ leur insu, ˆ vivre et
r*aliser des r*ves. Pour Isa, il sÕagit de r*ussir sa
vie sentimentale imm*diate, de cr*er un peu dÕharmonie
autour dÕelle en vivant au jour lejour sans jamais
couper les ponts avec le pass*. Pour Marie, quoiquÕelle
ne le dise pas explicitement, il sÕagit de ÒsÕen
sortirÓ, de quitter la vie de p*nurie m*diocre quÕelle a
toujours connue et ce, au moyen dÕune liaison avec
Chriss, un riche gar*on bourgeois qui, au fond, la
m*prise. On la sent vivement marqu*e par une profonde
mais tacite humiliation sociale qui, contracditoirement,
la pousse ˆ rechercher ce qui lui fait mal et la
r*pugne. CÕest justement une des r*ussites dans le jeu
de R*gnier et dans le tournage de Zonca que de voir
cette attraction-r*pulsion dans la gestuelle de Marie:
elle communique dans les mouvements de son corps tout ce
qui ne se dit que trop tard dans le film.Zonca organise et enrichit son oeuvre avec quelques
relations de substitution et de r*p*tition. Isa et Marie
squattent chez une dame bourgeoise et sa fille toutes
les deux dans le coma ˆ lÕh™pital, victimes dÕun
accident dÕauto. Parasitaires, elles sÕaccaparent
visiblement des traits des deux absentes. Isa,
enfantine, lit et reprend le journal intime de la
fillette alors que Marie met des robes de la m*re et
cherche un bonheur impossible avec un type qui nÕest pas
de son rang social.Le r*ve de sÕen sortir se dissiple brutalement ˆ la fin
du film o*, au lieu dÕune ascension vers les anges il y
a une chute vers le bas. La m*re est morte ˆ lÕh™pital
et Marie - plaqu*e par Chriss ? se suicide en se
laissant tomber plus quÕelle ne se jette dÕune fen*tre.
Isa, qui a d*but* dans une fabrique de couture, finit,
dans la derni*re s*quence du film, par travailler ˆ la
cha”ne dans une fabrique aseptis*e dÕordinateurs. Zonca
semble nous dire que lÕhistoire semble pr*te ˆ se
r*p*ter avec les m*mes personnages: il sÕagirait tout
simplememt de changer de d*cor en modernisant un peu.Ainsi, dans La vie r*v*e des anges, Zonca fait une
critique sociale s*v*re ˆ la mani*re du Truffaut des 400
coups, cÕest-ˆ-dire, il *vite le didactisme en faisant
appel ˆ une identification forte avec la vie et le sort
de jeunes personnages s*duisants pris dans un ensemble
qui les d*passe. Il en r*sulte une oeuvre
cin*matographique dÕune rare qualit*. - French Review
--------------------------------------------------------9. Jean de Florette (122 min.) (1986) Claude Berri
[1733] - From Marcel Pagnol's novel, L'eau des collinesProvence, ann*es 20. Jean s'installe avec sa femme
et sa fille Manon dans une ferme qu'il vient d'h*riter.
Il veut y faire un *levage de lapins et cultiver des
l*gumes. C'est sans compter sur la convoitise de ses
voisins, le Papet et Ugolin, qui ont bouch* la pr*cieuse
source de Jean avant son arriv*e.If you were to walk into the middle of "Jean de
Florette," you would see a scene that might mislead you.
In the middle of a drought, a farmer is desperate to
borrow a mule to help haul water from a nearby spring.
He asks his neighbor for the loan of the animal. The
neighbor is filled with compassion and sympathy, but
simply cannot do without his mule, which he needs in
order to farm his own land and provide for his own
family. As the neighbor rejects the request, his face is
so filled with regret you'd have little doubt he is one
of the best of men. Actually, he is a thief. And what
he is stealing is the joy, the hope and even the future
of the man who needs the mule. "Jean de Florette" is a
merciless study in human nature, set in Provence in the
1920s. It's the story of how two provincial French
farmers systematically destroy the happiness of a man
who comes out from the city to till the land.The man from the city is Jean de Florette, a
hunchback tax collector played by G*rard Depardieu, that
most dependable of French actors. When he inherits a
little land in Provence, he is only too happy to pack up
his loyal wife and beautiful child and move to the
country for a new beginning. He wants to raise
vegetables and rabbits on the land, which, according to
the map, includes a fresh water spring. His neighbors
have other ideas. The old local farmer and his son long
have had their eyes on that land, and they realize if
they can discourage the newcomer they can buy the land
cheap. So they do what is necessary. They block the
spring with concrete, conceal its location and wait to
see what happens.At first, nothing much happens. There are steady
rains, the vegetables grow and the rabbits multiply.
Then comes the drought, and Monsieur Jean is forced to
bring water from a neighboring well, using his mule and
his own strength, turning himself into a beast of
burden. From morning to night he plods back and forth
under the burning sun, and his wife helps when she can,
but the burden is too much and the land surely will die.
It is then that he asks for the loan of Hugolin's mule,
and is turned down.The director, Claude Berri, does not tell this
story as a melodrama; all of the motives are laid out
well in advance, and it is perfectly clear what is going
to happen. The point of the film is not to create
suspense, but to capture the relentlessness of human
greed, the feeling that the land is so important the
human spirit can be sacrificed to it. To create this
feeling, Berri stands well back with his camera. There
are not a lot of highly charged closeups, to turn the
story into a series of phony high points. Instead, so
many of the shots are surrounded by the landscape and
the sky, and there is one enormously dramatic set piece
when the sky fills up with rain clouds, and the thunder
roars and the rain seems about to come. And then, as
Jean de Florette and his family run outside to feel it
against their faces, the rain falls elsewhere and Jean
shakes his fist at the heavens and asks God why he has
been forsaken.But God has not double-crossed him, his neighbors
have. And the enormity of their crime is underlined by
the deliberate pace of this film, which is the first
installment of a two-part epic. We realize here that
human greed is patient, and can wait years for its
reward. And meantime daily life goes on in Provence, and
neighbors pass the time of day and regret that it is
impossible to make a loan of a mule. © Roger Ebert
--------------------------------------------------------10. Manon des Sources (1987) Claude Berri (113 min.) -
1734Dix ans ont pass* depuis la mort de Jean de
Florette. Manon a 18 ans et s'occupe de ses ch*vres dans
les collines. L'heure est arriv*e de se venger contre le
Papet, Ugolin et le village tout entier.Ten years have passed since the tragic events of
Jean de Florette. Jean's daughter, Manon, is now a
beautiful young shepherdhess, roaming the rugged
Proven*al hills. The frustrated Ugolin is desesperately
in love with the untamed woman. But Manon is repulsed by
the hapless man's pursuit. After cutting off the
village's water supply, Manon appears in town to accuse
the Soubeyrans of killing her father. Ugolin, remorseful
over his role in her father's death, throws himself at
her feet. But her public rejection of him proves too
much to bear, and leads to a tragedy that nearly
destroys C*sar. The old man's most heartbreaking moment
comes when when he finally learns the shattering truth
about Jean, the son of Florette.A Film Review by Roger Ebert
There is something to be said for a long story
that unfolds with an inexorable justice. In recent
movies we've become accustomed to stories that explode
into dozens of tiny dim-witted pieces of action, all
unrelated toeach other. Cars hurtle through the air,
victims are peppered with gunshot holes, heroes spit out
clever one-liners, and at the end of it all, what are we
left with? Our hands close on empty air."Manon of the Spring," which is the conclusion of
the story that began with "Jean de Florette," is the
opposite kind of movie. It moves with a majestic pacing
over the affairs of four generations, demonstrating that
the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children.
Although "Manon" is self-contained and can be understood
without having seen "Jean de Florette," the full impact
of this work depends on seeing the whole story, right
from the beginning; only then does the ending have its
full force.In "Jean de Florette," as you may recall, a young
hunchbacked man from Paris (G*rard Depardieu) came with
his wife and infant daughter to farm some land he had
inherited in a rural section of France. The locals did
not greet him kindly, and one of the local patriarchs
(Yves Montand) sabotaged his efforts by blocking the
spring that fed his land. The young man worked morning
to night to haul water for the vegetables and rabbit
foodthat he wished to grow, but in the end the effort
killed him. Montand and his worthless nephew (Daniel
Auteuil) were then able to buy the land cheaply.Montand's plot against the hunchback was
incredibly cruel, but the movie was at pains to explain
that Montand was not gratuitously evil. His most
important values centered on the continuity of land and
family, and in his mind his plot against Depardieu was
justified by the need to defend the land against an
"outsider." As "Manon of the Spring" opens, some years
later, the unmarried and childless Montand is
encouraging his nephew to find a woman and marry, so
that the family name can be continued.The nephew already has a bride in mind: the
beautiful Manon (Emmanuelle B*art), daughter of the dead
man, who tends goats on the mountain side and lives in
poverty, although she has received a good education.
Unfortunately for the nephew, he has a rival for her
affections in the local school teacher. As the story
unfolds, Manon discovers by accident that the nephew and
his uncle blocked her father's spring. And when she
accidentally discovers the source of the water for the
whole village, she has her revenge by cutting off the
water of those who killed her father.All of this takes place with the implacable pace
of a Greek tragedy. It sounds more melodramatic than it
is, because the events themselves are not the issue
here. The director, Claude Berri, has a larger point he
wants to make, involving poetic justice on a scale that
spans the generations. There are surprises at the end,
which I do not choose to reveal, but they bring the
whole story full circle, and Montand finally receives a
punishment that is perfectly, even cruelly, suited to
his crime.Apart from its other qualities, "Manon of the
Spring" announces the arrival of a strong and beautiful
new actress from France, in Emmanuelle B*art. Already
seen in some parts of the country in "Date With an
Angel," a comedy in which she supplied the only
redeeming virtue, she is very effective in this central
role. This time she is sort of an avenging angel who
punishes the old man and his nephew by giving them a
glimpse of what could have been, for them, had they not
been so cruel. © Roger Ebert
--------------------------------------------------------11. With a Friend Like Harry (personal copy)
The Players: Laurent Lucas, Sergi L—pez, Mathilde
Seigner, Sophie GuilleminThe Play: Everyone needs a muse, and Michel's (Lucas) is
his high-school friend Harry (L—pez). Appearing out of
&