La mort de Louis XIV

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.

If you enjoy 115 minutes of a sick, old man lying in his bed, struggling to eat, moaning and eventually dying, this is the right movie for you.

I totally agree with the assessment of the first reviewer: it is a beautiful, claustrophobic film with very little "drama". One thing I would like to add is that the film depicts the dying king with great respect and dignity. Having touched by death of elderly family members in recent years, I appreciated the film's compassionate and dignified portrait of Louis XIV and the people who served him closely. There is no political intrigue or ugliness in the film. It quietly and matter-of-factly tells a story. So even though the film's main theme is death, it is not a depressing film and you leave the theater marveling the fine acting of Jean-Pierre Léaud.

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 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....