La mort de Louis XIV

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 expected a slow movie, with not much action going on. I mean, it's about a guy dying, so that's says it all.

But my goodness, I didn't expect such a lack of activitiy. Everybody seemed to move in slow motion. Everybody seemed to TALK in slow motion. It got to the point where I seriously checked if this movie is a satire. Because in no way this reflects actual events in those times.

One of the most disturbing (or hilarious) scenes was the one were Louis wakes up at night, feverish and sweaty, and asks for some water. First, he has to ask several times because there is no servant in the room with him. Finally, a door opens and a very sleepy person stumbles in, has to be asked several times again before he - after a ridiculous amount of time - enters again with a glass of water. Now, the water is served in the wrong kind of glass and Louis refused to drink it.

Okay, I get that this scene was about how etiquette was more important than dying of thirst in those days. Maybe it was, I don't know. But the whole set up lacks every understanding of the importance of Louis XIV, and how the court worked. It was an absolute honor to work and live in Versailles and only the best of the best (the creme de la creme) of servants would make it to being a personal servant of him. And they would run, fly, to fulfill his every wish. It would be like serving Queen Elizabeth, only multiplied by a 1000 times. It's completely unthinkable that there was no servant present and some stupid incompetent person was the only one to attent to Louis, in slow motion.

There were much more mistakes like this in the movie. So I decided to view it as a satire. It's actually not so bad as a satire. Oh, and some parts I doubled the speed. That helped a lot too.

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.

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 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.