Posts Tagged ‘French cinema’

Apollo’s Girl

July 23, 2012

 

 

Claude Sautet:
The Things of Life

For those who loathe the sound and fury of traditional summer blockbusters, there are some really tasty alternatives at Lincoln Center. The Film Society’s four screens seem to be running day and night with old and new quality films. In fact, it’s tempting to give up your day job and just go from one to the other, trailing tickets, popcorn (high-end and modest price at both the Walter Reade and the Elinor Bunin Munroe) and hopes sure to be fulfilled.

If you’ve forgotten the glory that was French cinema in the 1970s, ’80s, and ’90s, and specifically the glory that was Claude Sautet, there is a week of his best about to unspool from August 1—9. The series is named, with good reason, for the opening night’s film, The Things of Life (1970). It’s two stars, the succulent Romy Schneider and equally succulent Michel Piccoli, transmit an effortless chemistry that centers their story. It’s a pleasure to see these smart, sexy pros at the top of their game. They, and their supporting cast are all about love and loss, but in ways that defy cliches. In other words, they are complex characters who keep us guessing, perfect avatars for Sautet’s script and the structure of the film, which cuts back and forth in time, drawing us with it right to the last frame.

But the best part (and there are many): the sights, tastes, textures of France then; they remind us of why we went there in the first place, and kept going back. The sound of the language; the elegance and style of the people—their posture, the culture itself. The relationship of one generation to another, and the uncanny maturity and politesse of teenagers accustomed to adult conversation and ways. There’s a cocktail party with live chamber music! There are scenes of winding streets with medieval towers, and scenes of crowds staring at an accident—these could only be French streets and French faces!

Well, it’s fine to wax romantic, because The Things of Life is, in fact, a romance. If you don’t get it right away, there’s Philippe Sarde’s lush score to give you clues and the erotic subtext it fits like a glove that gives the film a satisfying richness. But it’s always about emotion, rather than sensation. There’s nostalgia, too: Romy Schneider types her stories on a typewriter, with carbon copies. People make urgent calls from cabines at the post office. And they smoke. All the time (you can almost smell the Gauloises…).

So do yourself a favor. Look through the series’ schedule and faites vos jeux. Among the highlights: appearances by Yves Montand, Jean-Paul Belmondo, and a week of screenings (beginning August 10) of Max et les Ferrailleurs, never before seen in this country. Bonus: it stars Schneider and Piccoli. sautet schedule

Apollo’s Girl

March 7, 2012

Rendez-Vous With French Cinema

They are back from the dead! Once again, the French, who bankrolled our revolution before their own got under way, who invented la grand cuisine before we invented cholesterol, and who refreshed us with the New Wave, have – after some years of really tepid fare – risen anew.

Of course, dissatisfaction with Rendez-Vous‘ programming has been expressed in certain quarters: “too feel-good,” “too historical,” “too old-fashioned.” If, by that, the writer thinks it’s not relevant in 2012 – well, think again. It’s not the story that counts, or when it takes place, but how it’s told and what it’s saying; these stories are relevant, based on real events, and told very well indeed. Yes, with some sentiment, with some costumes, with – can it be true? – ideas, and some narrative to hang on to. Let us give thanks.

In fact, this year’s selections – in costume or no – are still carrying the flag for revolution: And they focus either on little-known aspects of well-known history (Smugglers’ Songs; Farewell My Queen; Free Men); and/or on the divide between the haves and have-nots (A Painting; Untouchables). So sample Rendeez-Vous’ pleasures and see what the right stuff looks like here and now. (March 1 – 11): rendezvous schedule

Smugglers’ Songs (Rabah Ameur-Zaimeche)
The context is France in the years before the revolution, after the death-by-torture of Louis Mandrin, an outlaw and folk hero. He, and his spirit, survive in the band of brothers who protest the country’s infamous tax laws which have cruelly burdened the poor. (I said it was relevant, didn’t I?) Their modus operandi is to steal goods from the rich, and set up markets in rural villages where they resell them, untaxed, to the villagers and give away songs– which they have written and had printed—in Mandrin’s honor. Smugglers’ Songs is described as “a film by Rabah Ameur-Zaimeche,” and so it is. Ameur-Zaimeche is a tall, robust man with a compelling presence who has written, directed, produced, and starred in the movie—his fourth. His ideas, and the energy of the film’s collaborative and semi-improvised scenes (beautifully filmed) make this a fascinating experience. And, as an adventure in pure cinematic texture, there is an interlude in a print shop, where the songs are set in type, pressed, hung on a line to dry, and bound by hand reminiscent of the interior of the mill in The Mill and the Cross, and no less powerful.

Farewell My Queen (Benoît Jacquot)
A sumptuous behind-the-scenes glimpse of Marie Antoinette and her court on the eve of the revolution. Told from the point of view of her reader (a reserved, but totally enthralled Léa Seydoux) who observes, and forgives, her queen’s every whim. Though occasionally teetering on the brink of soft-core cinema, the film is saved from it by the wholly contemporary photographic, lighting, and editing techniques Jacquot employs to paint his picture. The incredible extravagance and caprice of the royal playground at Versailles are revealed in swift fragments, rather than in the customary tableaux vivants. Coupled with strong performances, especially from Diane Kruger, as Marie Antoinette, they remind us that the queen’s self-indulgence was partially the result of her unhappy, arranged marriage into a foreign dynasty when she was only 15; lonely, far from home, she became the pampered object of envy and scorn, unable to comprehend the consequences of her irresponsibility.

Free Men (Ismael Ferroukhi)
Set in Vichy France, Free Men (like Nowhere in Africa), is a window into an entirely unfamiliar chapter of World War II. The freshness of its story, and strength of its cast (you will recognize Tahar Rahim from A Prophet of 2009), keeps interest high. There are many surprises, and a deeply satisfying transformation in Rahim’s character that is all the more satisfying for being hard-won. Another big plus: an excellent score, and swatches of Arabic popular music of the period.

 

The Painting (Jean-François Laguionie/Anik Leray)
This is animation as you’ve seldom seen it: in saturated colors and in an original style that occasionally adds live action to the mix. Its original story (of haves and have-nots) is couched in visual metaphors of finished (Alldunns), partially-finished (Halfies), and sketches (Sketchies), standing in for the social pecking order. For children, because it’s animation? There weren’t many in the audience, but everyone seemed to be having a very good time. The Painting has lessons for us, but they are taught with sure and graceful hands. (the painting)

The Intouchables (Olivier Nakache/Eric Toledano)
The Rendez-Vous opening night selection. Okay. We simply have to face the fact that The Intouchables is a feel-good film. And that it is (so far) the second highest-grossing film in France (it opens here in May). Its two stars (Francois Cluzet and Omar Sy) loft two characters: a rich aristocrat and an irrepressible caregiver who help each other back to lives lived to the hilt. It’s based on a true story and, well, it’s hard to resist its emotional arc. The Weinstein Company is distributing the film, and you know what that means. Think The Artist and you’ll get the idea. In fact, with The Artist as a jumping-off point (see post of February 25), it’s fair to say that France is really in the air. At the Met Museum (where a life-size photograph of the Steins’ collection, and many of its paintings have been gathered for The Steins Collect); at MoMA (where Eugene Atget’s photographs make you long for its fin-de-siecle alleys and parks); and in the concert hall for NYFOS‘ upcoming New York to Paris, Paris to Paradise songfest at Merkin Hall on March 13. Go. See. Hear. And smell les fleurs…