Un cœur en hiver

Un Coeur En Hiver is a deeply moving film. Beart's achingly beautiful performance as a violinist who becomes infatuated with an emotionally stunted craftsman, is breathtaking to behold. The craftsman, played by Auteuil, displays an almost unbelievable emptiness of emotion, as he rejects the "unrejectable" Camile(Beart)! The soundtrack of this movie conveys as much emotion as the lead characters do, and is hauntingly beautiful to the ear. This movie is a must for Beart fans! Just seeing those beautiful intense eyes is reason enough to view this film.

No-one can portray emotion in cinema as well as the French, as this movie proves. Auteil is wonderful as the stoic and enigmatic central figure, a man of few words and even fewer facial expressions who is both fascinating and exasperating. Emmanuel Beart is surely one of the most beautiful figures to grace the screen; her eyes say all the things her words fail to. One of the many qualities to admire in this film is that what the characters do not say is more important that what they do, and rather than being vague and ambiguous, which is a polite way of often saying muddled and obscure in movies, everything is confidently conveyed through expressions and actions. This is a film that knows exactly how much to say and what about. There are some brilliantly subtle clues to Auteil's character. "Have you ever been in love?" Beart asks."probably," he replies and nothing more is said. yet despite it's casual nature we remember that comment and without any more help we conclude that this may be the real reason for his isolation now, a desperate attempt at self-preservation. The music is brilliantly chosen, and the camera draws things out of the frame naturally...Auteil touching Beart for the first time when crossing the road, the wonderful coffee shop scene, that slap from Maxim. There is also some excellent humour, especially in the argument between the old couple Auteil witnesses from outside their house. It is interesting to compare this film with Three Colours: Blue which I saw the same evening, a more explicit depiction of isolation, equally powerful through different methods.

The plot revolves around the 'love triangle' of Camille, Stephan, and Maxine. Camille is a young up and coming concert violinist, and Stephan and Maxine are violin craftsmen. Camille is one of their many clients. The main character of this film, Stephan--played by Daniel Auteuil--is brilliant. He is a good looking and quiet man who knows what he wants and is secure in this: solitude--regardless of the amorous advances of Camille, the beautiful and brilliant young violinist who winds up dating his business partner Maxime, and whom he could seduce very easily. Many people analyzing Stephan's character would immediately say that he is sociopathic, deranged, insecure, or whatever. But Stephan is actually fully in control of his life throughout the whole film. He is not aware of fleeting passions like infatuation because he does not exist outside of passion: He is passion incarnate as he is very in tune with what he wants and is skillful at asserting his desires; so much so that those who encounter him become very jarred. His personna functions as a mirror that reflects other people's neuroses and fears back at them instead of absorbing them into itself and thus becoming poisoned. In this way, he's almost like a freelance mobile psychoanalyst passing through different bistros and concert halls in Paris, and disrupting the otherwise 'normal' relationships of those he encounters. The psychological tension throughout the film is thick from the start, and reaches a point of absolute saturation at its apogee. The viewer cannot help but find himself emotionally invested in the plot. The background score of the film is beautiful.

Brother, can you spare a heart?

In Un Coeur en Hiver, the late Claude Sautet looks into the heart of Stephane, a master violin craftsman (Daniel Auteuil), and finds only ice. Stephane is an observer of life, not a participant. The film reveals the consequences of his emotional isolation, of what he has to give up in order to maintain his solitude.

Un Coeur en Hiver is as far from a typical Hollywood romance as Casablanca is from L'Avventura. The film is almost a revisionist portrayal of the usual debonair French romantic lover. While the lovely sonatas and trios of Maurice Ravel form a haunting background, there is a lifeless quality to Stephane and ennui is a palpable presence throughout.

Stephane seems ready to leap into a passionate relationship with a beautiful young violinist, Camille (Emmanuelle Beart) after Maxim, his partner for many years (also in love with Camille), introduces her to Stephane. Stephane, however, is unable to relate to Maxim's friendship or to his growing attraction to Camille and becomes distant and manipulative.

Held back by his reluctance to take risks, his relationship with Camille provides him with the forms of intimacy but without the substance. No pat psychological interpretation is provided but is left to the viewer to interpret. The camera is reserved and intimate. For the most part, emotions are conveyed through glances, expressions, and silences rather than dialogue.

The scene where Camille finally explodes out of frustration over Stephane's emotional distance, however, is powerful, yet is not enough to shake the reluctant lover from his hiding place. At a restaurant, Camille tells Stephanie, "He says he likes music because "music is dreams". "Poor jerk", she blurts out, "You know nothing about dreams". Pointing to his heart, she says, "There is nothing in there, nothing. No imagination, no heart, no balls". Stephane simply sits there with a half grin on his face. I could really feel Camille's frustration in trying to pluck fruit from a barren tree.

Auteuil's outstanding performance makes him a likable figure, a really sweet guy but a very sad one. I felt repeatedly like shaking him from his lethargy and exposing him to joy and the rhythmic beauty of life, perhaps adding a little Mozart to his Ravel.

At the end, however, there is some character development. Stephane finally recognizes that "there is something lifeless inside of me." As his friends depart, he is left sitting alone at a restaurant table, poignantly feeling his loneliness. Perhaps this insight is the beginning of his transformation. A very sad film but beautifully realized.

I read that Claude Sautet inspired himself in the Pechorin's Diaries, a part of Mikhael Lermontov's "A Hero Of Our Time". In Phoenix Cinema blog: "For those interested–to understand Stephan's character, read Lermontov's novel A Hero of Our Time. (The novel is even mentioned in the film.) Stephan is a modern-day version of Pechorin." Now Pechorin is a complex Byronesque character that has ambiguous but plausible reasons for his apparent "winter" heart. He is a formidable character in Russian literature (like Oneguine, for instance) and the paradox of his coldness is enough to make a film director/screen writer wanting to start something. This tip should be taken into account before engaging in more audacious explanations for the character of Stéphane.