Gervaise

"Gervaise" is a film based on the story "L'Assommoir" by Emile Zola. It had been filmed several times before (these were mostly silent versions) and this is the most recent version of his story. It's all about a rather pathetic poor lady (Gervaise--Maria Schell) and her horrible choices of men. It is very well made but not exactly a pleasant film. In fact, at times, it's a bit painful to watch.

When the film begins, Auguste leaves Gervaise for another woman-- leaving her with children to raise. Eventually she marries Coupeau and their life seems to be going well. However, when the husband gets injured on the job, he degenerates to alcoholism and makes Gervaise's life completely miserable. The husband even knowingly brings his new friend, Auguste, home to live with them---knowing that long ago he was his wife's lover! At the same time, Gervaise has fallen for the only decent man in her life, the blacksmith. What's next in this tale of misery? See the film...if you dare.

This story is both about the wretched lives of the urban poor, as they are exploited, and about the disintegration of the morals of this class as well. It's not exactly pleasant viewing and is also clearly a lesson about the ills of drink--a very popular message when the film was made and remade several times during the silent era. Nearly everyone in this film is nasty and selfish and despite all this is IS well made. The acting, sets and direction by René Clément are all quite good...but you have to be willing to sit through nearly two hours of wretchedness and who wants to do that?!

François Perier as the alcoholic Henri Coupeau is unsurpassed as sick man having his overdose and delirium by alcohol. Maria Shell as Gervaise is convincing as the poor woman working day and night for the drunken men she is having in her home and her little daughter! This movie should be shown to all people having drinking problems. As it is set in a different period (the end of the second Emperor Napoleon's reign) is has something universal. The general atmosphere of this epoch is however very accurate.

Against every preconception I could think of, I loved this film. Gervaise is not only an interesting parable which rightly exposes the us to the dangers of drink, but making Maria Schell the protagonist casts the light of feminism into the equation. There is no way to ignore this interpretation either given Schell's brilliantly righteous performance as Gervaise.

Her husband is a drunken fool, no longer able to bring in money to support his family following an accident François Perier plays a drunk worryingly convincingly, but Gervaise is far from helpless. She puts up with the incessant tirade of abuse, womanising and eventually the violence. She is vulnerable yet forceful, respected but never entirely respectful. Nonetheless she is a protagonist and she isn't without her flaws. Her forgiveness of her husband cannot be criticised; we mustn't forget that we're watching a film about the second empire. The issues however are increasingly relevant. Both to Clement as a director in the 1950's and to anyone who decides that picking up a bottle can only harm the consumer.

Why Maria Schell?If you have read Zola's masterpiece -"l'assommoir" the seventh of the Rougon Macquart saga,and one of the finest, surpassed only by "Germinal"- ,you wonder why Clement chose her when the part was tailor made for Simone Signoret.On the other hand ,Suzy Delair was the ideal Virginie Poisson,hypocrite venomous and vile .They say her buttocks were "dubbed" (by Liliane Montevecchi's) during the famous scene of the spanking ! René Clément did a good job even if his adaptation seemed sometimes tame and timid .Zola's depictions are so intense that it's hard to transfer them to the screen.But the " fête de Gervaise " ,with the gargantuan meal comes close to fully recreate it,and it was not easy since in the book it spreads over about twenty pages.

Despise some reservations,this is an unqualified must for good cinema lovers.

It required some self-convincing before I crossed my fingers and watched this filmed version of Emile Zola's L'Assommoir. Zola's work, I find, is nearly impossible to translate to the screen. To wit, I cite Jean Renoir's horrible adaptation of La Bete Humaine, with Jean Gabin no less and Simone Simon. Somehow film has not succeeded in capturing the dark, dismal heart of Zola's naturalisme. Read Zola's 20-volume series of novels, the Rougon-Macquart. The only question you will have is which one ends on the bleakest note. Few of his protagonists walk away on the final page, if they live to walk away at all, happily into the sunset - the exceptions being invariably the scoundrels, power-hungry Eugène Rougon, his money-grubbing brother Aristide, or the grasping retail magnate Octave Mouret. L'Assommoir, along with Germinal, La Curée and L'Oeuvre, are among the most dismal, though personally I was left most entirely depressed at the end of La Terre and the ironic La Joie de Vivre. That said, I was surprised. René Clément's Gervaise almost succeeds. It comes close to conjuring the darkness and despair and sense of futility in a Zola novel. Almost. He had a tremendous assist from Maria Schell. Her Gervaise is a truly hertbreaking characterization. She is exactly as Zola depicted her: kind-hearted, hard-working, generous, but totally lacking in the ruthlessness needed to survive - a born victim of a ruthless world. Zola would have applauded.

The screenplay changes some of the story, but not nearly as much as do other cinematic adaptations of great novels. It omits some characters, the brutal domestic violence episodes of the family Bijard. But that is to be expected. It reduces the role of Gervaise's in-laws the Lorilleux, who in the novel work rapaciously in their narrow, overheated apartment hammering out enough tiny gold chains to stretch from Paris to Marseille. It exaggerates the character of Virginie, building her into a veritble femme fatale. She, in the novel, is not the machinator of Gervaise's downfall. She is herself a victim of Lantier's parasitism, once he latches onto her household. Life and heredity are the cause of Gervaise's fated fall. Those are her nemeses. Zola himself, defending his work against critics - for the right, L'Assommoir was a left-wing attack on the virtue of the capitalist work ethic; for the left it was a right-wing slander on the noble and virtuous working class - described it as "la déchéance fatale d'une famille ouvrière dans le milieu empesté de nos faubourgs," the inevitable downfall of a working-class family in our sordid suburbs.

Two scenes are perfect evocations of the book: the party scene and the visit to the Louvre. Coupeau's long, agonizing descent into alcoholism is more drawn out and more devastating, and his death, not at home but in the hospital drunk ward in the grip of delerium tremens, is much more harrowing in the novel. The film leaves Gervaise alive. Zola did not. His story continues to her death of starvation, huddled in the tiny cubby-hole once inhabited by père Bru. That, I guess, was a sadness too far for the film. The film leaves us with a wink and a nod as little Nana flaunts out into the street with her new ribbon. Those who have read on in the series know what will be her degenerate life and miserable death once she gets to star in her own novel. For a mediocre filming of that story, try the 1955 movie with Martine Carol and Charles Boyer.