A crumbling cloister perched high on a cliff on the Spanish coast, a wounded and rather pathetic general attempting to see a particular nun in the order living therein, who shun the outside world. This might seem an unusual beginning for a film by Jacques Rivette, who has more often traversed a fantasy-land of sorts in modern Paris, but those familiar with the byways of his filmography will remember several period films over the course of his long career, most notably the early The Nun which in many ways foreshadows this late film. An adaptation of a story by Rivette's favorite writer, Balzac, this story of thwarted love and societal repression also at various points recalls the director's obsession with theater, with performance as a daily part of life, and an ambiguous relationship with Catholicism.
After a short introductory scene where we find that the general's object of longing has indeed joined the convent, a curtain closes as if to suggest that the principals are indeed play-acting, and opens again on a scene 5 years earlier in the drawing rooms of Napoleanic Paris. The eventual nun is Antoinette, the Duchess of Langeais (Jeanne Balibar), and it is she who begins the cat-and-mouse game that occupies most of the film, spying the limping Marquis de Montriveau (Guillaume Depardieu) at a party and immediately commanding him to call upon her. He does so and from then on a tug of war between the obvious passions, and the duties and strictures of the formal and unforgiving society around them takes over both of their lives with ultimately tragic consequences.
The unattainable or impossible love affair has been a major theme in many of Rivette's works, most obviously "L'Amour fou", "Hurlevent" and "The Story of Marie and Julien". Duchess is cooler, more detached, and has an aura of inevitability or fatalism about it, and it lacks the carnality of those earlier films also, being almost entirely a talky mood-piece - though there is one extraordinary "kidnapping" scene which brings briefly to mind the conspiracy-world of many earlier works. And yet Rivette's always remarkable and thoughtful mise-en-scene, his slow camera movements punctuated by title cards (often at unpredictable points) does develop an aura of suspense and growing fascination. Will Montriveau's eventual finding of his lost Antoinette ultimately result in happiness? In death? In scandal? The film is too honest and stripped of inessentials to allow us an easy guess - its only foreshadowing lies in whatever we bring to it of our own knowledge of human nature.
As usual in Rivette's late work the period detail is exceptional, William Lubtchansky's camera-work is as fine as ever, and the acting is committed. It's nice to see Bulle Ogier again, still beautiful and mysterious in her late 60s, now playing a supporting role (the wise and imperious aunt) but still dominating the screen in her couple of scenes. The production design (by Emmanuel de Chauvigny, who has worked with the director for years) is also wonderful - one of the things I love so much about Rivette is that he pays so much attention to texture, to the look and feel of doors and wallpaper, lamps and tables. Only David Lynch comes to mind as a contemporary director so consistently committed to these kinds of details and the "feel" of objects.
Overall this doesn't feel quite like major Rivette to me, but like his previous "Marie and Julien" I'm still thinking about it, and liking it more the more I reflect. Canadian-release DVD watched.
After a short introductory scene where we find that the general's object of longing has indeed joined the convent, a curtain closes as if to suggest that the principals are indeed play-acting, and opens again on a scene 5 years earlier in the drawing rooms of Napoleanic Paris. The eventual nun is Antoinette, the Duchess of Langeais (Jeanne Balibar), and it is she who begins the cat-and-mouse game that occupies most of the film, spying the limping Marquis de Montriveau (Guillaume Depardieu) at a party and immediately commanding him to call upon her. He does so and from then on a tug of war between the obvious passions, and the duties and strictures of the formal and unforgiving society around them takes over both of their lives with ultimately tragic consequences.
The unattainable or impossible love affair has been a major theme in many of Rivette's works, most obviously "L'Amour fou", "Hurlevent" and "The Story of Marie and Julien". Duchess is cooler, more detached, and has an aura of inevitability or fatalism about it, and it lacks the carnality of those earlier films also, being almost entirely a talky mood-piece - though there is one extraordinary "kidnapping" scene which brings briefly to mind the conspiracy-world of many earlier works. And yet Rivette's always remarkable and thoughtful mise-en-scene, his slow camera movements punctuated by title cards (often at unpredictable points) does develop an aura of suspense and growing fascination. Will Montriveau's eventual finding of his lost Antoinette ultimately result in happiness? In death? In scandal? The film is too honest and stripped of inessentials to allow us an easy guess - its only foreshadowing lies in whatever we bring to it of our own knowledge of human nature.
As usual in Rivette's late work the period detail is exceptional, William Lubtchansky's camera-work is as fine as ever, and the acting is committed. It's nice to see Bulle Ogier again, still beautiful and mysterious in her late 60s, now playing a supporting role (the wise and imperious aunt) but still dominating the screen in her couple of scenes. The production design (by Emmanuel de Chauvigny, who has worked with the director for years) is also wonderful - one of the things I love so much about Rivette is that he pays so much attention to texture, to the look and feel of doors and wallpaper, lamps and tables. Only David Lynch comes to mind as a contemporary director so consistently committed to these kinds of details and the "feel" of objects.
Overall this doesn't feel quite like major Rivette to me, but like his previous "Marie and Julien" I'm still thinking about it, and liking it more the more I reflect. Canadian-release DVD watched.