Die Marquise von O...

Not one of Rohmer's best, especially from a writing standpoint. It seems to me that he wasn't particularly interested in this project, or at least he is unable to make the story as interesting as I find most of his other films. However, several points elevate this film far beyond what it could have been. First thing, the cinematography, by Néstor Almendros, is stunning. Rohmer pays particular attention to the composition, something which he isn't generally known for. I think it hurts the film, but one thing can't be denied: it looks as painterly as possible. Also, the performances are generally great. Bruno Ganz kind of disappointed me, but that's mainly because I consider him one of the greatest actors. His performance here is good, but not at the level of the other films in which I've seen him. On the other hand, the star of the film, Edith Clever, is amazing as the titular character. She becomes pregnant even though she has not had relations with a man since her husband died a couple of years earlier. She must face the prejudices of the time (a good story of a woman up against society, though it's been done better before). The Marquise's parents are played by Peter Lühr and Edda Seippel, and they both give excellent performances as well. All in all, a beautiful experience, if not the most exciting.

In this case, the question is not only who placed the seed that sowed the bun in the lady's oven, but how did he get into the kitchen in the first place?

The widowed marquise is saved from being attacked by a Russian Count, who soon declares his honorable intentions. But just how honorable is he?

Soon, her own honor is questioned, when she discovers she's with child, though swearing she's been chaste since her husband's death. There's a mystery to solve, as well as hurt feelings, false accusations, family turmoil, and an important question: if you love and trust someone, are you willing to stick by them and believe in them, no matter how questionable things appear?

Thoughts worth pondering.

Eric Rohmer, the great filmmaker, tries his hand at the kind of film that is everything that a Rohmer film isn't. Gone is the New Wave Modernism; the natural settings, hand-held cameras and dialogue that captures the quintessential nature of being human. Replaced instead with dowdy costumes, unmoving camera, and formal sets. Perhaps the original German flows with eloquent charm, but the English subtitles seem to have been translated by school children.

Merchant Ivory this isn't, and neither is it Rohmer.

Erich Rohmer's adaptation of a novella by Heinrich von Kleist is visually remarkable. If you can imagine a painting by Jacques Louis David come to life, that is what this film looks like. Clearly a lot of attention was paid to colors and lighting. Aficionados of neoclassicism should not miss it. I believe this was Bruno Ganz's first film and the other players, particularly Edith Clever, are fine as well. The tone is one of social satire tempered by comedy. A number of Netflix viewers have complained that the film requires a lot of patience. I don't agree. It requires an interest in the period, perhaps. Recommended for the discerning.

There are those who maintain that this should be counted among Eric Rohmer's Morality Tales but I consider this masterly version of Heinrich von Kleist's novella to stand alone in his output.

The verbosity of some of this director's modern pieces is inclined to test one's patience but here it is acceptable in a nineteenth century setting and has been adapted by Rohmer himself, having learned German when writing a thesis on Goethe's 'Faust'.

The direction is both elegant and restrained whilst its sparseness and economy of gesture call to mind a certain Robert Bresson. It is not without eroticism and the image of Edith Clever as the title character stretched out sleepily on a red bed wearing a luminous nightgown is worthy of an Ingres or a David. Little wonder that she proves so tantalising to the Count F of Bruno Ganz.

The painterly compositions throughout are courtesy of Néstor Almendros who, like his fellow graduates from the Centro Sperimentali di Cinematografia, Storaro and de Santis, is a master of natural light.

The 'rape' itself has always been a subject for 'scholarly' debate and here Rohmer has left it to our imagination. Indeed he suggests by means of a single close up that the perpetrator might perhaps be the handsome devil of Leopardo the servant rather than the eccentric Count F.

Bruno Ganz is beautifully understated here but it is the touching portrayal by Edith Clever as the Marquise that lingers longest.

'Ambiguity' is the name of the game in Kleist's piece and as such suits Rohmer's style to a tee.