Eine Liebe von Swann

For a long time I've thought that the Nobel Prize should go to a filmmaker, and who better than Volker Schlondorff. He has taken so many literary classics and turned them into fine films--Young Torless (Musil), The Tin Drum (Glass), Coup de Grace (Yourcenar), Michael Kohlhass (Kleist), The Ogre (Tournier) and many more. He has worked in Germany, France and the US and shows great ability and imagination always. This is the first film adaptation of Proust and it is wonderful in many places. The long sequence at Odette's house when an hysterical Swann goes on a rampage--looking for the source of the sound he imagines he hears--only to drive Odette into a fury as she smashes a vase is a classic of modern filmmaking. The pettiness and claustrophobia in the lives of aristocrats circa 1900 is superbly brought out. Sven Nykvist is the cinematographer (deep black night scenes, lovely) and Hans Werner Henze wrote the superb music: it's like another actor in the story; jangled, dissonant sound accompanying Swann's frantic travels through Paris.

I enjoyed this film very much. I don't know how the film works as a literary adaptation but, judging it purely as a film on its own terms, it works well as a study in sexual obsession and jealousy. Irons is perfectly cast as the fixated aristocrat but the post-dubbing, whilst seamlessly executed, is a little off-putting as it clearly isn't Irons' own voice (despite what some IMDb posters seem to believe). Irons expertly portrays Swann's social aloofness and the way in which his obsession takes over his sense of reasoning. The film is exquisite to look at (as you would expect from a film with Nykvist as the cinematographer) and Delon gives a scene-stealing performance as Swann's camp best friend. Worth watching.

According to IMDB this seems to have been the first time anyone ever tried to adapt Proust to the movies. And though flawed, it's not a bad try--kind of languid, but that was probably deliberate. Jeremy Irons is one of the best at portraying repressed longing, and Ornella Muti is exquisite enough to explain Swann's amour fou.

I really admire the work of Volker Schlondorff, I think he is one of the best German director nowadays with Wenders (although in a very different style). His adaptation of Proust is quite good but several things really annoyed me.

_first, the soundtrack: why using an atonal composition of Henze when Proust, who loved Wagner, filled his novel with specific musical references? It simply does not fit the atmosphere! Any chamber music of the late nineteenth or early twentieth centuries would have been better!

_second, the acting: I am french and I really think Alain Delon is way overrated, he's simply mediocre. However, I really like Jeremy Irons, and Ornella Muti is usually quite good, but their dubbing is absolutely awful and ruins totally their acting! So I understand that Irons would have had a very strong English accent if he had been asked to act in french but if Schlondorff decided to shoot the movie in Paris with 90 percent of the cast being french, why in the hell didn't he choose two other french actors for the leading roles? I have nothing against English actors, on the contrary, but then, he should have shot the movie in English rather than dubbing miserably these good artists.

_Third, the movie is sometimes a little slow. Usually, Schlondorff does a much better job with the editing. If you want to discover the terrific job of this great director, you should rather see "The Tin Drum", "The Ogre", "The Handmaid's Tale" or "Death of a Salesman" before this one.

Never having read "Swann's Way"---the source material for this film---I was free to view it as an entity unto itself, which is what I prefer.

It is the study of a man's obsession with a courtesan, Odette de Crecy (Ornella Muti). Swann wants for nothing, materially, and he could live his life anywhere and anyhow he pleases. But he is emotionally tethered to Odette as they each glide through the salons of the Parisian upper class in search of artistic experiences, self gratification, and maximum visibility.

Are they lovers or mere contractors? Do they love each other or detest what they perceive of themselves under the other's influence? Do they extract maximum enjoyment from life or perpetually battle boredom and self-loathing? As they perform their dance of attraction and repulsion, it is sometimes unclear.

Jeremy Irons is convincing as the self-absorbed Swann. And Ornella Muti is mesmerizing as Odette. Both of them feel indigenous to the fashion and culture of their milieu, which makes it easier to focus on the characters themselves.

A wonderful score elevates the film considerably. I plan to watch it again, if only for its evocation of a place and time.