Il piacere

Three tales from Guy de Maupassant are presented: The Mask, The Tellier House, and The Model, all of which were published in 'The Necklace and Other Tales' in 2003, and are probably in many other such collections of his short stories. The film adaptation is beautifully shot, includes some fine star power (Simone Simon, Jean Gabin, and Danielle Darrieux), and for the most part faithful to the stories, though there is some unfortunate softening. I have to say, the selection is not the greatest, as the first and last stories are just average works, and they're also both less than eight pages long. Even for an author who is known for being a master of brevity, the translation to the screen for the bookends of this set feels unsatisfyingly not well fleshed out (and the middle story ends up taking about 60 of the overall 97 minutes).

Ostensibly the three were selected to match a theme, which is the pursuit of pleasure. We do see that in these vignettes, and most notably, we see this pursuit ending in being denied. One man wears a mask when he gets older so he can go out dancing with the young girls (but collapses), others brawl because a bordello is closed on a Saturday night, and another desperately tries to get near one of the prostitutes that come out to see his daughter get her first communion. The foibles of men are on full display, and it's all a little pathetic. Perhaps this is nowhere more true than in getting married for reasons that don't relate to temperament or harmony, and suffering a lifetime of coldness as a result, which is the subject of the last tale.

Maupassant was the ultimate realist, not flinching from writing what life and love were really like, and the tone of the film is thus generally consistent with his work. Unfortunately in that middle effort, The Tellier House, there are some alterations. When the prostitutes are in the church in the story, they begin to cry, causing a wave of tears to ripple through the crowd. In the book, it's a sanctimonious and confused priest who believes that's it's a sign of God among them, but Maupassant is clearly making the situation absurd - both for the sentimental weeping and this reaction. In the film, it's the narrator - meant to be Maupassant himself - who draws the divine inference. It throws the tone of the scene off, is noticeably inconsistent with the rest of the story, and is certainly not in line with Maupassant's realism. Excised also is the bawdy song 'Granny,' that Rosa sings in the story, about an elderly lady remembering her past lovers, ruing the loss of her shapely legs and bygone charms, and admitting that she would masturbate alone in bed at 15. Ok, maybe that's not surprising for a film from 1952, even one out of France not subject to the puritanical production Code.

If director Max Ophüls had nailed that middle story, or included a better selection (of which there are many possible options), I would have enjoyed the film more. As it was, though, it's a solid effort and worth watching.

"Le plaisir" presents three stories by Guy de Mauppasant. A more precise title would be "le plaisir de l'homme" because in all the stories men are the weak gender, unable to control their instincts.

A suitable subtitle would be "les réactions des femmes". The reactions differ from resignation (first story) to acceptance (second story) to resistance (third story).

In none of the stories a moral judgement is made, but the first and the last are more tragic while the middle one contains comedy elements. Because the middle one is also the biggest (longest) story, in one review the comparison with a religious triptych from the Middle ages is made.

Let me try to make the above somewhat less abstract. The first story is tragic from the male point of view. A man with a mask attends a ball. After a while he becomes unwell. When the mask is taken off it is revealed that the man is rather old. The tragic element is that the man keeps behaving below his age. The mask however does NOT indicate that the man is ashamed of his behaviour (as is the case in "Eyes wide shut" 1999, Stanley Kubrick), it only indicates that he wants to hide his real age.

The second story has comic element. Due to a company outing, a brothel is closed for one day. The male clients become bored and start quarreling with each other. There is no shade of condemnation in this story, nor regarding the girls, nor regarding the clients. In stead the brothel is portrayed as a very useful institute, keeping the social peace.

With respect to the cinematography, the dynamic cameramovements are worth mentioning, and this in a time that the camera was not at all handheld but a heavy piece of equipment.

Once again some examples as illustration. In the first story the camera movements illustrate the hectic of the ball. At the beginning of the second story the camera circles around the brothel, peeping inside windows but staying outside the building. These movements of the camera create a somewhat voyeuristic ambiance.

A trilogy of Guy de Maupassant stories, two short simple ones framing a long and impossibly rich one, and I don't know why everyone complains about the framing ones - everything is given exactly the weight that their narrative will support. An old man dressing up like a young dandy to relive the gavotting excesses of his youth, only to end in physical collapse, starts things off; and to close we have a beautiful young couple who go from romantic bliss to petty vindictiveness to resigned acceptance via an attempted suicide. This gives us a rather complex understanding of the meaning of 'pleasure', and the worst you can say is that one and three don't utterly embody pleasure the way number two does (although the swirling camera work in the dance scene comes damn close). The story of a troop of sex workers romping off to a country wedding is simplicity itself, but also incredibly rich - full of memorable human beings and interactions. Everyone sees happiness in the place that they're not, but this episode celebrates life wherever it finds it, and it's a joy to watch.

It has been rightly claimed that, between 1945 and 1955, Max Ophuls was the greatest director in the world, crafting a string of dense pearls unmatched before or since. Even 'Le Plaisir', supposedly a minor film in his canon would be a staggering masterpiece in anyone else's.

A triptych of Guy de Maupassant stories, it is also about a trio of Gods. The first two are shown to be limited: Maupassant, author, creator, narrator, speaks to us from the darkness, disembodied, all pervasive ('I could be sitting next to you'), responsible for everything we see - in the last story he crashes down to earth, and is responsible for a suicide attempt; and Ophuls' camera, seemingly weightless, able to navigate space with a freedom unavailable to humans - even it is barred from Madame Tellier's Establishment, forced to peek in from outside. It can reveal the bleak reality behind the prostitutes' gaiety, but is has no access, like the men who exploit them, to their souls.

Or does it? The stunning epiphany at the church, is, after all, on one level just a trick of the camera, or a mere figment of the women's imagination. As we would expect, the camerawork, composition, decor, music and acting are breathtaking and ambiguously nostalgic; what is more remarkable is the magic sense of nature, so rare in Ophuls, and, with the exception of the Archers, King Vidor and Lynne Ramsey, so rare in cinema.

Max Ophuls converts three stories by Guy de Maupassant to the screen, and links them via a narration by Peter Ustinov.

Ophuls is one of those directors whose works I admire rather than enjoy. Sometimes I think that's his intention. His taste for formalism, whether it be a Schnitzler play he wishes to film, or his insistence on loading on every camera trick he can think of, as here, seems designed to call for comment by the attentive and cinematic viewer.... one might almost say 'voyeur.'

Perhaps that's Ophuls' intention: to make the audience think they're not watching a story, but spying on reality. Me, when I think it's a great story and great actors, as here, I would use the minimum artistry to tell the story; why paint the beautiful lily or gild refined gold? When the first story begins with a traveling take that lasts minutes, I wonder how much longer it's going to go on, rather than enjoying the event. When he shifts repeatedly to Dutch angles, I wonder what is so odd about the perspective, and when he shoots people in a house through windows, again, I wonder what's the point.

Perhaps it is a longing for the baroque. Or perhaps it's an inferiority complex, to show people who go on about the theater that cinema is an art, too, and anything you can do, we can do better!

Me, my taste is a lot more visceral than Ophuls. He's great, mind you. It's just that I appreciate him with my head and not my heart.