Eric Rohmer Still Travels

Autumn Tale (1999), directed Eric Rohmer                                                                               

Part of a tetralogy called Tales of Four Seasons (A Tale of Spring, Tale of Winter, Summer, Autumn Tale).

The French New Wave (an old wave now?) has done it again. Not since Claire’s Knee have I been thrilled as much by a film of this kind.

What kind? Relationships, mostly love triangles, or quadrangles if you will. Not erotic tales, certainly. At least this one isn’t. It is one of relationships where some moral boundary is being crossed, or about to be crossed. Characters are caught in situations where they desire another person they are not entitled to have a relationship with. A teacher, for instance, in this one, is in love with one of his students—in fact he seems to be constantly forming relations with his students, all of whom are younger (being his students).

Or, it could work the other way around. A person is being kept from having a love relationship by being isolated, unable to function on this social level. That person, then, becomes incapacitated and sterile, seeking in vain to appease an inborn human desire—that of having a companion.

This is what happens in this story. A 45-year-old widow, Magali (played by a Rohmer veteran Beatrice Rommand—a teenage seductress in Claire’s Knee, a generation before) cultivates her vineyard—in the south of France—producing good, homemade vintage, which she bottles herself, and of which she is very proud. In fact, she considers herself an artist of sorts, producing wine not for “trade,” which she hates, but for art’s sake, for the wine itself.

She has a friend, Isabelle (played by Marie Riviere), to whom she confesses her thoughts, in long strolls among the vineyards, and who tries to persuade her that she needs a relationship. They argue on this point, Magali thinking of herself as unattractive, and not wanted by males. She is determined to stay put, but Isabelle has other ideas: persistent, she figures that a man somehow can be found for every female that wants one, and she proposes that she put an ad in the newspaper—for Magali—for that purpose. Magali finds this idea absurd, but Isabelle goes ahead with it anyway.

Meanwhile, Magali has a son, Leo, who dates a student, Rosine (Alexia Portal), who has had a relationship with her philosophy professor, Etienne (Didier Sandre), young-looking man but old enough to be her father. She is tiring of a dead-end relationship (the professor has a habit of dating many of his students), so she schemes up a solution—passing on Etienne to Magali. This is out of a sincere desire to help a lonely woman, whose friendship Rosine values. She thinks Etienne, too, might profit from the relationship with a mature woman. Thus, Magali, now forty-five and indifferent to men, has two female friends, a generation apart, eager to secure her a companion.

Isabelle’s ad pays off, and an elegant, middle aged man called Gerald shows up at the rendezvous spot, a countryside restaurant. Gerald erroneously thinks Isabelle the interested party, and the latter has some trouble disentangling the mix-up. Gerald accepts to meet Magali, and does so without realizing it at a party. He likes her, but she soon discovers the ruse and rejects his offers—thinking him already involved with Isabelle. Etienne also meets Magali at the same party, and soon discovers she is not interested in him. The drama is solved soon when Magali realizes Isabelle’s effort was sincere, and that Gerald really likes her.

As simple a plot as possible—hardly a plot in fact. Things just—go on, until somehow the minute conflicts are resolved (though not entirely, for Etienne never gets anywhere with Rosine). In any case, not much happens, though there is much talking. The film in fact is a series of conversations, little tableaus of two people at a time. No group meetings, outside the party.

I’m not asking a viewer his/her opinion whether this works. For me, it works beautifully.

For once, I’m not asked to follow a heavy-laden plot, with twists and turns, tension, suspense, blood, action, gunfire, explosions, and other mind-shattering events filling our screens today. Rohmer knows simplicity and beauty. All his shots are fluid, his mise-en-scene a continuous frame of lively human beings, occupied by the minutiae that fill up everyday life. What is absent in this film is the artificiality of Hollywood, and of Hollywood-type movies. Most of the action is photographed in the country (the shots of the vineyards small Monet-like masterpieces, the interior shot having the look ordinary residence). There was no use of any sets that I could tell. It’s minimalist movie, probably done with minimal expense.

THERE WAS NO MUSIC SCORE (aside from a couple of songs at the end of the movie—at a wedding party). Enough cannot be said about this point. Musical score is a typical Hollywood enticement, using emphatic onslaughts of sound--songs, ensembles, opera arias, classical music, pop, rock—name it. Why is this done SO MUCH? Well, apparently, this is the ethos of cinema-making before and nowadays. We need to be aroused, excited constantly, gratified instantly, high-pressured to feel (not necessarily to think) every second a movie is on. This may be part of the commercial motive of making movies these days. You don’t want to bore your audience with too much conversation and too little action—so, if you are the filmmaker, you make sure everything is thrown at them and the kitchen sink.

The clean job of telling a tale without such embellishments is the beauty of Rohmer. His movies discard the superfluous, peel off the fat skin, and let you taste the honey (sweet core). Rohmer can be lavish with photography—but in this one he is sparse; just the minimum use of camera, which is so unobtrusive you hardly know the events happening are not artificial. These people seem to you entirely real, next door neighbors not even French. Some critics complain Rohmer does not travel well—his movies never were popular in America. Well, I believe that this is rather the assumption of distributors, both on the big screen and the video markets.  Have Rohmer available will travel. Not necessarily in streaming.

Constantine Santas

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May, 7, 2018