Contentar
Best movie of this year hands down!
StyleSk8r
At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.
Senteur
As somebody who had not heard any of this before, it became a curious phenomenon to sit and watch a film and slowly have the realities begin to click into place.
framptonhollis
This is the third entry in Eric Rohmer's "Six Moral Tales" film series, following the charming romantic short "The Bakery Girl of Monceau" and the somewhat bland, but still well made and written, 55 minute film "Suzanne's Career". Out of the three "Moral Tales" that I've seen, "My Night at Maud's" is easily the best, and most mature. The first two, while fine films, seem more like warm ups to this film."My Night at Maud's" is a spectacular work of art, which mainly consists of the intelligent discussion that goes on in the apartment of a woman named Maud over the coarse of one night. Of course, plenty of other things happen as well, but most of the film takes place during this one long discussion. Joining Maud is the main character, Jean-Louis, a Catholic man who seems to be in love with a woman (named Françoise, who becomes more of a major character later in the film), but hides it from Maude and his Marxist friend Vidal.The film is an hour and 50 minutes of watching these wonderful characters talk and talk about various things, mainly things dealing with religion, love, etc. While a film almost entirely consisted of various characters chattering away may sound boring, it really isn't, mainly because the talking is so much fun (and really interesting) to listen to!The film is also beautiful to look at, with gorgeous, black and white cinematography that really enhances the pretty cold tone of the film.A really great piece of filmmaking!
Jackson Booth-Millard
1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die has been a very useful book for finding the obscure and not very well known little gems from the big screen, this French film is definitely one that I wouldn't have known about before reading it, I was hoping it was deserved placing. Basically devout Catholic Jean-Louis (Jean-Louis Trintignant) has moved to a new town and plans to marry pretty blonde Françoise (Marie-Christine Barrault) who he meets at mass, and he also runs into old childhood friend and Marxist Vidal (Antoine Vitez) in around Christmas time in Clermont-Ferrand. Vidal invites Jean-Louis to meet freethinking and recently divorced Maud (Françoise Fabian), they have interesting conversation about religion, atheism, Blaise Pascal's life and writings on philosophy, faith and mathematics, morality, and love. After a long night Jean-Louis ends up spending the night with Maud, where they end up having more philosophical discussions in her bedroom, and his beliefs on marriage, fidelity and obligation become a dilemma in this situation, although the young woman that he apparently truly loves he has never spoken to. Also starring Léonide Kogan as Concert Violinist, Anne Dubot as Blonde Friend and Guy Léger as Preacher. I admit it being in a foreign language with subtitles made it a little difficult to concentrate on everything, but it did seem a bit more dialogue based anyway, the performances were good, particular Fabian as the beautiful woman that is perhaps trying to seduce the already taken man, it did have some witty words that I read, and it certainly did have engaging moments where you wonder where it's going, it was an interesting drama. It was nominated the Oscars for Best Writing, Story and Screenplay Based on Factual Material or Material Not Previously Published or Produced and Best Foreign Language Film. Very good!
writers_reign
Come on, we've all done it. You move to a new town (in this case Clermot Ferrand in the Auvergne)and six months later by complete chance run into someone who was at the same school and who you haven't seen for 15 years. You take maybe 45 seconds for small talk then jump into a discussion on Pascal or, by definition, begin philosophising. Me? I do it all the time. More? The acquaintance from school (Vidal)suggests you go with him to meet the divorced doctor (one child) he's in love with. You go, have dinner, talk about Pascal, natch, it starts to snow lightly, the doctor says, stay here tonight, there's a spare bed. She herself gets into 1) a nightie and 2) bed, from where she continues to play hostess. Eventually Vidal leaves. You say to Maud (for it is she) where's the spare bed, she says, there isn't one. You say, does Vidal know, she says, of course. The third element is the girl you have seen at Mass and determined to marry.I've fallen for Rohmer's watching paint dry idea of filmmaking before and said never again but this time I mean it.
jcappy
8 Ambiguity Preferable?It's hard to speak about "My Nigh at Maud's" in words other than those of praise for its filmic qualities... but how's about taking on meaning. Either this film is pretty ambiguous or I'm missing something. Whether one dissects its parts or observes it whole, it remains ambiguous. So, isn't ambiguity a good thing? Yes, if its recognition leads to meaning, action, truths. No, if it is simply escape, fence-sitting, or art-for-art's sake. But is Rohmer's masterpiece as ambiguous as it appears? My guess is that it's not. Rohmer sets up these distinct dichotomies between religion/piety and atheism/freedom, light and dark, and men and women. He seems somewhat more sympathetic toward the latter, but a proponent of the former. Perhaps he stands with the preacher for whom Christianity is a "way of life," and "an adventure of sanctity." But isn't Rohmer left behind when his priest adds that it "takes madness to become a saint?" I say this because the film's ending casts a firm vote for form over freedom. But his move away from ambiguity in the direction of form--as opposed to freedom, seems to detract from his genuine classic. For its Rohmer's solipsisms (sex, love, marriage) that present the problem. First, his central character's role is undermined by these. Jean-Louis is initially an absorbing character, a provincial intellectual, with an air of world travel, and independence. There is no dis-juncture between him and the incredibly effective mise en scene. He is as particular a man in a very specific place--as is his friend, Vidal, the suave philosophy professor. They breathe the air of this provincial world--and such a rare treat: intellectuals with holds on themselves occupying film space. But Jean-Louis's distinction begins to slip early and slides (incidentally, so does Vidal's and for similar reasons) during his night at Maud's. There's something about the way he chases Francoise--it seems too mundane, too breezy and somewhat obtuse--as if he's quickly morphing into the default French male. But he does make comebacks--that is, before setting foot in Maud's apartment. The problem, however, isn't Maud's--his holy water piety or self-righteousness are not at issue--nor is Jean-Louis Trintignant's performance because he fits the original character perfectly. It's the role. He has not only made a generic male but, more specifically, a Rohmer male--one who exists to experience moral tests via a Rohmer type female who is seductive (always leggy) wily, sophisticated at least in the ways of sex/love/men, and above all, tempting. As unsettling as Maud may be (see below) again it's the role that takes him out of character, not Maud. He loses his reserve, he becomes too confessional, too awkward--physically and emotionally. He adopts various male postures--the sexually experienced, the wit, the daringly direct, the self-satisfied and he cannot navigate Maud's rather obvious set-up. Whatever he seemed to have had initially has gone the way of passivity, uncertainty, self-absorption, and dependency. He appears a suckling lying across Maud's bed, leaning on his elbow, and gaze-talking into her eyes--then mummy wrapped next to her. And he's lost his warmth (the antithesis of Hitchcock's Father Logan in "I Confess") Yet in spite of all this he will, at times, remind of his early identity, and isn't completely overshadowed by Chermont's cityscape. What about the title character, Maud? She's the dark-eyed, black hair, worldly (the atheist) to Francoise, the blond catholic snow queen. She too is assigned a role, but while Jean-Louis' is irreversible, hers is reversible---because it cannot contain her longings. However, her expansive identity is not a winning one because it is achieved outside Rohmer's closed box of marriage, love, and sex (her uncomfortably warm apartment, within which even the Marxist Vidal succumbs) The price of her emotional range, values, freedom, romantic leanings is depressing solitude and broken marriages. But what she gets for playing the role of game mistress, temptress, and mediator to men's moral quests, is a chance to expose in these men more than they bargain for. They have to deal with her own acute ambivalence about her roles and also with her uncontrolled consciousness--she would never be among the bevy of girls who Gandhi slept with to test his chastity. She's a witness to men's pretenses, "lack of spontaneity," "stiffness," secretiveness, clinical intelligence--and, yes, their so-called moral victories. In other words, Maud sounds like the point of view character (and this, for me, is the chief reason for the ambiguity I first referred to). But she's not. She is simply being used as a challenging argument against freedom, and as a mediator of male form and morality. She is free at her own peril--and carries the stigma of freedom. Which she continues to bear 5 years later in terms of isolation and disappointment in love. She alone is not privy to the infinite compositional shot of Jean-Louis, his pre-selected bride Francois, and their son embracing the beachscape of salvation, their principles of faith, love, and marriage intact. For Rohmer's lens turns away from those who do not even care to wager on his fabricated, established forms.
