Der Tod von Ludwig XIV.

I was wondering, as I watched this, just how the last few days of Queen Elizabeth II - herself reigning for almost as long - might have looked in comparison with this depiction of the last few days of the acclaimed 'Sun King". Somehow, I doubt she would have been surrounded by quite such a grouping of acolytes and sycophants. Such a collection of quacks and hangers-on riddled with an obsequiousness that would have made "Obadiah Slope" blush. The King has taken to his bed, at the age of 76, suffering from acute pains in his leg. Perched, rather uncomfortably, and adorned with a wig that would not have looked out of place on a lion, we spend the next few days watching this once great, stylish, flamboyant and shrewd man edge towards his meeting with his maker. Jean-Pierre Léaud doesn't really have a great deal to do here - occasionally sip some wine, or eat a biscuit, or take a short stroll around his couch. For the most part he lies there, breathing heavily, allowing the establishment around him to gradually unravel. His long-term lover Mme. De Maintenon (Irène Silvagni) is his principal source of comfort, Marc Susini his valet - a far grander role than the title suggests, tries to keep him contented and a collection of doctors all busy themselves about him - largely without the faintest idea of what is actually wrong much less how to treat their ailing monarch. If you are looking for something with pace, then this is certainly not for you. What Albert Serra delivers here is almost like a fly-on-the-wall documentary depicting the decline not just of the man, but of everything his life has stood for. The costumes look great and film relies on a lighting regime that is entirely plausible - if a little lacking in lux at times. The audio could maybe have been doing with a bit of a boost, but the serene effort from Léaud and the scenario itself provides adequate compensation as we, quite literally, watch the end of an era. On balance, I reckon the late Queen probably had a more private, and medically more competent, time of it....

The biggest wonder of this film is that it had most of its audience sitting all the way through. For almost 2 hours of every minute detail of the last days of Louis the 14th, the greatest king France has ever known. Truth is though we do follow every minute detail we don't really see every thing. In fact what we do see is mostly close ups of the faces of the protagonists (mostly the face of Jean-Pierre Leaud who does a superb work as the dying king betrayed by his body, but keeping his mind sharp to the very last moment), we often only get to hear whats taking place while we keep on seeing these close ups. The result is a very beautiful, claustrophobic film, with very little plot development and very little action. Theatrical in the most cinematographic way - namely it's very theatrical but we always get to see it through the eye of the camera, did I forget to mention loads of close ups. So I did stay focused all the way to the end. And I do appreciate the technical mastery of the director and the cinematographer. And the acting was first class. But there's too little of any other element that could make it into a real masterpiece.

I'm not going to remember Louis's grunts and moans as he lies in bed, attended by far too many doctors to be of any use. No, I will remember the disputes--polite but still angry--between the doctors, sometimes involving a faith healer who has been called in, God knows why, to administer some foul elixir to Louis. The joke is that the doctors know hardly more than the quack about how to treat the sick. An inessential film, but it was good to see Leaud again.

I totally agree with the assessment of the first reviewer: it is a beautiful, claustrophobic film with very little "drama". One thing I would like to add is that the film depicts the dying king with great respect and dignity. Having touched by death of elderly family members in recent years, I appreciated the film's compassionate and dignified portrait of Louis XIV and the people who served him closely. There is no political intrigue or ugliness in the film. It quietly and matter-of-factly tells a story. So even though the film's main theme is death, it is not a depressing film and you leave the theater marveling the fine acting of Jean-Pierre Léaud.

actually is no different from any common people, no matter how many subjects surrounded His Royal Highness's deathbed. You cursed someone you hated so much with harsh words like: "I wish you die alone and nobody will give a Fxxk!" Well, practically and realistically speaking, everybody indeed die alone; your parents, your wife, your husband, your kids, your friends won't join you and die with you, no matter how they love you or hate you; and these people aforementioned, would also die alone one by one. When a plane or car crashed, a ship sank, a building on fire and collapsed like the twin tower of World Trade Center, an earthquake cracked up the mountain slop and crashing down on a village on the foothill, a whole village wiped out instantly; people died in great number at the same time in a mass death toll, even so everybody still died alone, in group, large or small, but every one of them still died alone. After hundreds of people eating the same food on the hot-cold counter-top in a buffet restaurant, when they take dump at home or elsewhere afterward, the stinking smell would be in some degree almost the same, to some degree, nobody can be separated and distinguished differently, and you cannot claim that yours got some independent unique odor.

Dying is always a lonely process no matter what. And for this film, all you should do is to focus on the cinematography, the lighting, the make- up, the costumes and the score(soundtrack) and the acting of all the participating actors. "Eight Million Ways to Die in L.A." still meant that you are the only person to die there, and die alone.