1986, Eric Rohmer
A little more of a focus on the sociology than usual, examining the streets as much as the people on them. We are deliberately made to look at each locale slightly askew, from an outsider’s perspective, or due to a slight unravelling of the norms. Rohmer takes great detail on the set design, and we are immediately curious when the little stray drawings, contingencies, appear across the screen.
Rohmer’s cinema is dialogue-heavy, though often the dialogue isn’t what ultimately reveals; it might be the clothing, the order one does something in, the eyes have it, quite literally. As in this, the breaking up of the narrative gives a kind of distance, perhaps a step more than Rohmer’s previously developing wryness, on the action. Another interesting picture.
Sunday, 3 April 2011
Le Rayon Vert
1986, Eric Rohmer
A more episodic work than usual from Rohmer. This is less than usual on the tight narrative, more a series of often quite short setpieces. Carrying them together is someone who simply, agonisingly, is alienated from herself and those around her. Disconnection is generally not a feature Rohmer starts with; its imposition here leads to a film that well shows the kind of confusions, ellipses, and uncertainties of its subject. This is further enhanced by the use of a few slow zoom-ins, and wider framings.
Our characters are less attractive than usual, as are the locales; only a kind of ennui limps around every corner, suggesting a turn to drink might be the best. The ending, while not entirely unexpected, is a curious turn-around; in that respect it is quite Rohmerian, in a film that does not adhere to the stereotypes of his work, generally.
A more episodic work than usual from Rohmer. This is less than usual on the tight narrative, more a series of often quite short setpieces. Carrying them together is someone who simply, agonisingly, is alienated from herself and those around her. Disconnection is generally not a feature Rohmer starts with; its imposition here leads to a film that well shows the kind of confusions, ellipses, and uncertainties of its subject. This is further enhanced by the use of a few slow zoom-ins, and wider framings.
Our characters are less attractive than usual, as are the locales; only a kind of ennui limps around every corner, suggesting a turn to drink might be the best. The ending, while not entirely unexpected, is a curious turn-around; in that respect it is quite Rohmerian, in a film that does not adhere to the stereotypes of his work, generally.
Les Nuits De La Pleine Lune
1984, Eric Rohmer
There is something occasionally uncanny about this film; a slightly tired element, an element of the sinister in the new town, the public transport (a varying feature across Rohmer’s work), the well lit parties. The use of mirrors as a doubling feature of the framings enhances this impression. There is a slight air of sadness about our (this time female lead). Almost a fatalism about parts of the story.
It rather hinges on the inability of the people to live together. Rohmer paints some of his least attractive characters here. All the same, he involves us with them, and their fates genuinely seem to matter for the run time.
There is something occasionally uncanny about this film; a slightly tired element, an element of the sinister in the new town, the public transport (a varying feature across Rohmer’s work), the well lit parties. The use of mirrors as a doubling feature of the framings enhances this impression. There is a slight air of sadness about our (this time female lead). Almost a fatalism about parts of the story.
It rather hinges on the inability of the people to live together. Rohmer paints some of his least attractive characters here. All the same, he involves us with them, and their fates genuinely seem to matter for the run time.
Pauline A La Plage
1982, Eric Rohmer
Rohmer sets up his scenes here in very simple back-and-forths. Single people, or groups, are presented as units which knock back against other units. This simple putting together of people can achieve some comic juxtapositions.
This is perhaps Rohmer’s funniest film. Indeed, it is in a sense a farce. The mind-boggling lies and confusions that infect everyone and everything play out against people who are on the surface quite pleasant. We come to know them better and understand motivations, faults, and what remains hidden; each is sympathetic, keeping their initial attraction, but always with complications. The bad aren’t bad and the good aren’t good; just compulsively confusing, drifting around each other.
This is another extremely entertaining, thoughtful picture from Rohmer.
Rohmer sets up his scenes here in very simple back-and-forths. Single people, or groups, are presented as units which knock back against other units. This simple putting together of people can achieve some comic juxtapositions.
This is perhaps Rohmer’s funniest film. Indeed, it is in a sense a farce. The mind-boggling lies and confusions that infect everyone and everything play out against people who are on the surface quite pleasant. We come to know them better and understand motivations, faults, and what remains hidden; each is sympathetic, keeping their initial attraction, but always with complications. The bad aren’t bad and the good aren’t good; just compulsively confusing, drifting around each other.
This is another extremely entertaining, thoughtful picture from Rohmer.
Friday, 1 April 2011
Le Beau Mariage
1982, Eric Rohmer
Rohmer switches the game up a bit here, focussing on a young woman. It’s worth noting that the camera is become a little more fixed, a little more focussed on master shots. And we notice a propensity for clothes-lining the framing, sitting on beds. This film is perhaps the most straightforward ‘awkward’ to watch, through the fingers, though one isn’t being manipulated.
Like many of Rohmer’s films, this takes a while to get going, but when it does we have an exquisitely observed, often funny, deeply revealing piece. This is one of the proverbs series, not to build castles in the sky, which is exactly what of course happens. This is soon clear to the audience, who watch the scenes unfold with irony.
Rohmer achieves a state whereby there is no maliciousness, because the viewer is not held as superior to the action; thus could be us. It is pedagogic, we learn and try to know better, but the characters often develop beyond what we thought the lesson was, beyond us, and the audience finds what they thought a minute earlier being challenged. Thus, for all the superiority, the viewer is learning with, and occasionally behind, those who appear for our benefit.
Rohmer switches the game up a bit here, focussing on a young woman. It’s worth noting that the camera is become a little more fixed, a little more focussed on master shots. And we notice a propensity for clothes-lining the framing, sitting on beds. This film is perhaps the most straightforward ‘awkward’ to watch, through the fingers, though one isn’t being manipulated.
Like many of Rohmer’s films, this takes a while to get going, but when it does we have an exquisitely observed, often funny, deeply revealing piece. This is one of the proverbs series, not to build castles in the sky, which is exactly what of course happens. This is soon clear to the audience, who watch the scenes unfold with irony.
Rohmer achieves a state whereby there is no maliciousness, because the viewer is not held as superior to the action; thus could be us. It is pedagogic, we learn and try to know better, but the characters often develop beyond what we thought the lesson was, beyond us, and the audience finds what they thought a minute earlier being challenged. Thus, for all the superiority, the viewer is learning with, and occasionally behind, those who appear for our benefit.
La Femme De l’Aviateur
Eric Rohmer, 1981
This is another very impressive piece, perhaps more dislocated than other Rohmer works. We have a number of different strands, different relationships, picking themselves apart in huge networks, postal systems, of the city.
This film is explicitly about ignoring what is under one’s nose, and the lead male clearly is the key example of this. But each character has their own selfishness. This film starts nicely, pleasurably, but really picks up with the meeting of the young folks in the park. There is a more than charming, electric performance from the female, perky without being annoying. Even with her own blinkers, she sets off the male’s isolation and unseeingness.
There are little moments of irony, in long shots, and a few expressive track ins. Largely, though, the effect is built up from the narrative. The conversations avoid boredom but don’t stray far from the specifics of what we are seeing.
This is another film that genuinely takes us into various lives, more scattered and boho than perhaps normal. There is then the absolutely electric end; Rohmer deals not in deliberately trying to shatter us, but in turning the romantic sensibility inside out, like a sock, to see what’s there. In its analysis of relationships, Rohmer is so far ahead of anyone else who tries similar naturalism (contrasted to the non-naturalistic approach; Wong Kar Wai, Kitano, etc), its almost embarrassing.
This is another very impressive piece, perhaps more dislocated than other Rohmer works. We have a number of different strands, different relationships, picking themselves apart in huge networks, postal systems, of the city.
This film is explicitly about ignoring what is under one’s nose, and the lead male clearly is the key example of this. But each character has their own selfishness. This film starts nicely, pleasurably, but really picks up with the meeting of the young folks in the park. There is a more than charming, electric performance from the female, perky without being annoying. Even with her own blinkers, she sets off the male’s isolation and unseeingness.
There are little moments of irony, in long shots, and a few expressive track ins. Largely, though, the effect is built up from the narrative. The conversations avoid boredom but don’t stray far from the specifics of what we are seeing.
This is another film that genuinely takes us into various lives, more scattered and boho than perhaps normal. There is then the absolutely electric end; Rohmer deals not in deliberately trying to shatter us, but in turning the romantic sensibility inside out, like a sock, to see what’s there. In its analysis of relationships, Rohmer is so far ahead of anyone else who tries similar naturalism (contrasted to the non-naturalistic approach; Wong Kar Wai, Kitano, etc), its almost embarrassing.
Perceval le Gallois
Slightly odd piece from Eric Rohmer, 1976
This is odd largely because of its almost kids-TV set, and archaic dialogue. The deliberate lack of realism does create some nice tableaus, especially later on. The general aim though is to show up the theatricality of what is happening. This features, in fact, in many of Rohmer’s films; the sense that something is being acted out for the audience’s benefit. It is very much in keeping with court-entertainment, the deliberately slightly knowing presentation of moral tales to educate and to entertain.
Rohmer shoots it with some establishing shots, but generally operates with his unobtrusive style of separating elements, though some two-shots for conversations. There is a bit of off-screen talking, and perhaps slightly more than usual panning, instead of cutting. Also, their some apparently near-direct attention to the audience. This lends the rest of the piece a further division of artifice.
We again have a male who seems certain of what he is doing, but is led astray and finds he is in fact under another’s influence (a woman’s). He does come to realise this, and what to make of this situation, this choice, is what motivates what goes on.
Things move along swiftly enough here, and the visual style is interesting, with cuts to the chorus-like musicians, each part of the scene being kept in its separate box, always commentating on itself. It is difficult to get too excited, and one must admit it gets a little boring; perhaps not one of Rohmer’s stronger works.
This is odd largely because of its almost kids-TV set, and archaic dialogue. The deliberate lack of realism does create some nice tableaus, especially later on. The general aim though is to show up the theatricality of what is happening. This features, in fact, in many of Rohmer’s films; the sense that something is being acted out for the audience’s benefit. It is very much in keeping with court-entertainment, the deliberately slightly knowing presentation of moral tales to educate and to entertain.
Rohmer shoots it with some establishing shots, but generally operates with his unobtrusive style of separating elements, though some two-shots for conversations. There is a bit of off-screen talking, and perhaps slightly more than usual panning, instead of cutting. Also, their some apparently near-direct attention to the audience. This lends the rest of the piece a further division of artifice.
We again have a male who seems certain of what he is doing, but is led astray and finds he is in fact under another’s influence (a woman’s). He does come to realise this, and what to make of this situation, this choice, is what motivates what goes on.
Things move along swiftly enough here, and the visual style is interesting, with cuts to the chorus-like musicians, each part of the scene being kept in its separate box, always commentating on itself. It is difficult to get too excited, and one must admit it gets a little boring; perhaps not one of Rohmer’s stronger works.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)