Die schöne Querulantin

All I love about Rivette is in this film, and lots of it.

(1) The actors create 'souls', personalities and stratagems for their characters in collaboration with Laurent, Bonitzer and Rivette, instead of reciting cut and dried parts. Piccoli, Béart, Birkin and the others work little miracles all the time: their interactions feel shrewd, humane, intense, both mysterious where some background is yet missing to the viewer and utterly believable once it is revealed, without trace of the usual high-strung film acting centered on the single significant moment and rammed down the public's throat in so many contemporary movies.

(2) The setting, the Chateau d'Assas, is completely integrated into and driving the story, and is cleverly employed and fully respected in the mise èn scéne: it is not a quarry for illustrative backdrops and environments, but a real space conditioning the story just like the personalities involved.

(3) The mise èn scéne and cadrage always leave the necessary breathing space and time for story and personality development and interaction. Nothing is ever forced or abbreviated - and yes, this makes movies longer.

The 'plot' is typical for Rivette, as it contains a subtle fantastic element: here the idea, that a painter could find, sum up, condense and make visible the complete essence of a person in a painting. This fantasy lends urgency to the old dichotomies of life and art, of love and creativity. It is otherwise a mere pretext to set the story in motion and expose the characters. (In Balzac's 'Chef d-oeuvre inconnu', the attempt of Frenhofer to capture his model completely only led to a completely unreadable painting.)

The scenes where Marianne models for Frenhofer are to my knowledge unique in cinema. They represent transparently both the very subtle interaction between painter and model, and the genesis of the resulting sketch.

To show spontaneous sketching of highest quality, the hand of Bertrand Dufour was filmed while drawing/painting the posing Béart. Then Piccoli incorporated the gestures of the hand of Dufour into the scenes of Frenhofer and Marianne. Given the complexity and freedom in their interaction, the tension and homogeneity of the assembled scenes is quite a miracle.

No numerical vote, of course: one must never allow the quality of a piece of art to be in any way a subject to voting.

A young artist and his girlfriend run into an aging master who has not painted for many years. It emerges that he stopped in the middle of a painting of his wife which threatened to destroy his marriage. Why this should be so is not at first clear. Over time, however, as the young artist's girlfriend poses for the older artist so that he can finish the painting, it becomes apparent quite how emotionally demanding the artistic process is.

Many people seem to find this film boring or pretentious. It's a matter of taste I guess. I found the long sections of the artist sketching his model extremely compelling. Even if you can't imagine this, give the film a try. I have a friend who hates arty films, particularly if they're in a foreign language. His favourite film is the Rock, yet he started watching this (with the sole aim of seeing Emmanuelle Beart in the buff, which she is for most of the movie) and ended up sitting through the whole four hours. It has a genuinely hypnotic quality.

Aside from the debate about the art sections of the film, its content is superb. The characters are real, interesting and beautifully played. The Beart character in particular is a wonderful depiction of someone who is deeply scarred, but erects a powerful veneer of independence to protect herself. As the artist sketches her from every angle, he gradually gets under her defences, until her entire personality is exposed on canvas. I know this sounds really pretentious, but this film effectively argues that what marks out a masterpiece is that someone's soul - either the artist's or the model's - is put on canvas, and in the process, they and the people close to them are affected irrevocably. Ultimately, the only real flaw in this film is, I'm informed, that the sketches themselves aren't actually that good. If you're like me and have a limited sensitivity to such things, this shouldn't bother you. If not, try not to let it spoil a beautiful, rewarding and profoundly satisfying movie.

Until last night, I have shied away from this film due to its daunting 4-hour length. But watching Jacques Rivette's "La Belle Noiseuse" was not nearly as difficult as I feared it might be. In fact, it actually feels liberating to watch a film that doesn't limit itself to a predetermined time constraint. With most films that rely heavily on an advancing plot, any possible lulls may wear on the viewer. "La Belle Noiseuse" boldly eschews the artifice of plot and standard pacing, and deeply focuses on its story of an artist, Frenhofer (played by Michel Piccoli), finding inspiration in a young model (played by Emmanuelle Beart) to paint again after a 10-year hiatus.

The drawing scenes alone really held my interest. Presented with little dialogue, they really made me feel as if I were witnessing art unfold, which is nothing less than exhilarating. It was also fascinating to see this in combination with the subtle development and changes that take place within Beart's character, Marianne, as she transforms from a fidgety, resentful subject to an impassioned muse who sheds away all corporeal pretense and lends her bare soul to the canvas. Giving support to the complex and nuanced performances of the two leads, the waiflike Jane Birkin is also a standout in the role of Liz, the artist's wife, especially in the later scenes in which she expresses conflict with her husband's art.

I am glad that I have finally seen this movie, and I definitely encourage anyone with a curiosity about this movie to see it too. All it requires is four hours of your time and an open mind. "La Belle Noiseuse" is an extremely long film, but never boring. Watching this film is like slowly immersing your body into a hot bath. Your enjoyment of it all depends on how willing you are to adapt yourself to its pacing. But like a hot bath, it takes a little adjustment.

Having seen "Va Savoir" recently prompted me to rent Jacques Rivette's 1990 "La Belle Noiseuse," a daunting runtime of 240 minutes (though I noticed it was only 3 hr. 48 mins.) It's well worth the time and experience. An experience in painting - nude figure drawing to be precise. But it's not a film merely about lessons in nude figure modeling from the beautiful Emmanuelle Béart, or meticulous details of an artist's painting process from veteran actor Michel Piccoli, there is a Rivette storyline depicting multiple relationships, himself literally painting us psychological pictures/sketches. He's truly the French filmic master of human predicaments between man and woman. Rivette has such visions, skillful techniques, and superb craft in telling his story with thoughtful details - never misses a beat.

The beginning scenes put us in a comfortable rural setting outside of Paris - beautiful open views of the village town, captures of the villa architectural interiors, and tastes of the lovely airy gardens and shady greens exterior. Yes, there are plenty of dialogs, but the inclusion of real-time ambient and environmental sounds made "La Belle Noiseuse" experience whole. It has the most wonderful ordinary sound of the studio door with latch creak opens and closes - it comes so naturally. There's the pen nib scratching against the sketchpad paper, the chalk against the surface of a canvas, even the quick ruffling of sheets when Béart the model swivel-turned in defiance - such detailed little sounds simply add to the flavor and tone of the story. We see two pairs of relationship and then some: between the mature and weathered pair of Edouard Frenhofer the painter and Liz his wife (who used to be his favorite model) portrayed by Michel Piccoli and Jane Birkin; the younger set Marianne and Nicolas, yet to absorb the trials and zest of life, portrayed by Emmanuelle Béart and David Bursztein; then the twists of the mercurial commercial-minded Balthazar Porbus, the unrelenting insistent Nicolas' sister Julienne, with gentle relieving pauses from young Magali, daughter of housekeeper Francoise, not to forget Justine the Cat.

Other then an Igor Stravinsky piece used for the beginning/ending credit roll, and Magali's brief morning ballet exercise, there's really no background music used. The occasional church bell rings, sounds of cicada and rustling leaves provided serene accents. Much is said in the unsaid, and the ending portion sure makes one wonder and prompts reflections. Rivette has a flair for unsuspecting ending drama, almost philosophical, or could it be renewed beginnings?

The paintings/drawings were from the hands of Bernard Dufour. Cinematography by William Lubtchansky, especially inside the studio, captured the critical chiaroscuro (light and shadows) of drawing/modeling sessions. Michel Piccoli is a regular in Luis Bunuel films; "Belle de Jour" 1967, with Catherine Deneuve is one example. Jane Birkin has such a gentle yet fortified disposition; she's in Bertrand Tavernier's "Daddy Nostalgia" 1990, opposite Dirk Bogarde. I really enjoy Emmanuelle Béart's performance in Claude Sautet's "Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud" 1995, with Michel Serrault, who was equally brilliant.

Unless you're a New Wavelet devotee or your intellectual capacities are wide, Jacques Rivette is a filmmaker who isn't very close to many average viewers. In many of his films he loses himself amid his intellectual ideas and doesn't mind developing them while neglecting notions of storytelling, progression in narration and time. Consequently, the average length of his works is of about two hours and a half. Many filmmakers left very long films too. But they keep in mind that their films are destined to be understood by the general public and so obey to rules of clarification in their accessible stories.

"La Belle Noiseuse" is one of his most palatable pieces of work in spite of its challenging length. It clocks in at 4 hours but don't panic, time won't seem long to you for Rivette keeps a decent linearity from the first reunion with the main characters of the film to the surprising final denouement to the agreement of Marianne (Emmanuelle Béart) to serve as a model for the painter Frenhofer (Michel Piccoli). Along their adventure, some details will witness the progression of the story: Marianne sleeps in Frenhofer's mansion while the latter falls asleep in his studio. An aesthetic refinement freely sourced from Honoré De Balzac's novel "the Unknown Masterpiece" and perhaps the son of "le Mystère Picasso" (1956) by Henri-Georges Clouzot, Rivette's piece of work is a dive in the twists and turns of artistic creation and all that it can comprise with its times of hopes, doubts, fears. Frenhofer naturally starts with a series of sketches and continues with numerous paintings attempts and countless, testing poses for Marianne. The two characters are engaged in a creative process that is highly likely to leave them exhausted to say the least. The filmmaker deftly taps the scenery of the mansion and notably the studio where he locks for the major part of the film, Marianne and Frenhofer for better and for worse. A painstaking care is given to sound with the squeaking of charcoal and brush. To better capture the sense of spontaneous creation, Rivette fell back on methods worthy of the New Wavelet and notably Godard's: he shot his film without a script near him and perhaps that's why many moments seem extemporaneous. But unlike Godard's smug works, Rivette's one remains quite understandable as a whole.

A dark legend surrounds this film about its success, one of the few Rivette enjoyed all along his career. Was it due to Emmanuelle Béart's nudity? "La Religieuse" (1966) was banned because it was deemed as shocking for a major part of the population according to the censors. This banning contributed to the popularity of the film. So, it would seem that Rivette has to put elements likely to be scabrous to make himself accepted by general public.