Splinters

(Here endeth the recent Bresson rumpus. But he'll be back.)

The early works of a great filmmaker naturally illuminate his or her artistic path, but it would be swell if the films themselves held some fascination. Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne (1945) stars Maria Casares as a woman who... nah, the simple premise is offered at the above link. The plot doesn't matter much, since neither the director nor the actors can get the stagy material to work. Here's what Bresson thought about working with Casares:

A friend told me that in Julien Green's South she had to appear on the stage saying, "It's raining"; in French, il pleut. Despite the simplicity of these words, her tragedian's temperament made her shout emphatically: "I... l ... pl... eut!" Because Les Dames was not a tragedy, she was worried at the beginning. To get courage, she used to drink a little glass of cognac before acting. When I chanced to discover this, I asked her to take a sedative instead, which she willingly did. Then things started to go better. (More)

Well, at least a little better. Soon after the melodramatic Les Dames, Bresson himself really got going. I may eventually warm up to the film, but I'm unwilling to give it extra points just for being Bresson's second feature.

A pet peeve: after the (usually dialogue-heavy) scene has ended, the motionless camera lingers on the actor and the set for a good while. This mind-numbing lingering is there, I suppose, to allow the viewer a peek at the character?s inner world. Or perhaps the purpose of the inertia is to let the slower audience members get their bearings. Whatever the reason, the protracted shot smacks of falsity and highlights the stodginess of the drama. In the theatre, these moments of transition can be used to build atmosphere. In film, this kind of tarrying is lethal.

Previous Bresson-related posts: Pickpocket; Mouchette & Au hasard, Balthazar; Notes on the Cinematographer; L'Argent; Le Proc?s de Jeanne d'Arc