La Mort de Louis XIV

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 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....

This film features stunning period accuracy and exquisite silence until, bafflingly, the Kylie from Mozart's Mass in C minor comes blaring across the soundtrack. Music from 60 years after the events of the film, written by an Austrian. Make it make sense.

Acting, set design, writing, sound, and costumes all superb.

I don't have much more to say about this film but I have to write another two hundred and twenty seven characters to have this review accepted by I em dee bee for some reason so the typing continues.

Anyway it's really my kind of movie and for the right person, they'll love it, especially if they can ignore this bone-headed music cue.

This is certainly a film that does what it says on the tin. The sole focus of the film is the death of Louis XIV the Sun King and it is interesting that the sun is notably absent from the film which for the most part resembles a series of Rembrandt paintings in its lush tones surrounded by darkness. This is not an exciting film, in fact it is quite boring in parts. But then that is death, as anyone who has sat watching over an aged relative will know. It is quiet, it is slow, drawn out over hours and days in hushed tones. This is the king of France, one of the most noted kings of France, and here he is fading from life like any ordinary person. Attended and fussed over but unable to stop the enevitable decline or gain much comfort. If I have a quibble it is that the dialoge is often painfully slow and dull in a manner that is, I feel, a bit of a cliché in this type of film. It fits the mood but was, I felt, somewhat overstated.