Providence

In Providence, his only film in English Language, Resnais again approaches the most recurrent subject in his career: the memory. Here, he explores how one's feelings can affect it: the life of the writer reflects directly on his view of his son and the wife of this one, and their respective (supposed) lovers, which actually are a representation of the writer's alienation, guilt and self-depreciation. It shows how memory can be more painful than any pain of the flesh, and even worse than reality itself. Like everything i've seen from Resnais so far (Night and Fog, Hiroshima Mon Amour, Mon Oncle D'Amérique and one of my favorite films, Last Year in Marienbad), this one is a very deep and original masterpiece.

Since so many good comments have been written here, mostly on the psychological side of the characters, and they are all excellent, I decided to comment upon a very present entity and that is WINE.

Notice that, until the last scene, everybody drinks white, mostly CHABLIS, an acid one. But on that last scene Resnais shifts to RED. It is no accident, it has in my modest opinion, a way that illustrates a very fundamental change in the feelings that occurred in that lunch.

Criticism and over-analysis, ever present till that event, give way to peaceful acceptance of the characters by the father, Without hypocrite sensibility, that he refuses, but with warmth and tolerance.

Well, I do believe, by some 55 years of experience, that white wine (dry, European style) makes one restless and sometimes bitter.

Red wine makes one more relaxed and happy.

I do not know which kind of wine Resnais prefers, but since he is a Breton I would not be surprised, that it is WHITE. Maybe that is the reason why His movies are so difficult to decode. They are also some of the most magnificent works of cinematic art..

Not enough can truly be said for this film. Equally, nothing can change people's reaction to it; it is an art piece which separates people. Early reviews from the period of its release seem unfriendly at least. Many reviewers found the film pretentious and constructionally difficult. Many claimed it attempted more mystery than it had a right to. I feel this was a film ahead of its time, and any pomposity in the film comes not from its center, but from its central character, Clive Langham (John Gielgud). This, more than almost any film of the 20th century, is a film which rewards the viewer for multiple viewings. If you are often accused of being obsessive, overly-analytic or just plain artsy, this film will tickle you in some very personal places. The message I will refuse to comment on, though it is very deeply personal to me, and, I would say, to all writers. But the "crux of the biscuit," if you will, is this: examine the title in relation to the film.

A dying artist, beautifully acted by Fainsilber, struggles to complete one last book before he dies - the plot of which becomes confused with his own troubled life as he thinks and dreams his way through the night. This was the first film in English for master film-maker Alain Resnais, and also happens to be one of his best. Using a variety of surreal cinematic techniques, Resnais is able to capture the characters of everyone in the film perfectly and his style - combined with excellent scripting - makes for an experience that will not be forgotten. Although the first half of the film will probably be spent in confusion, before you actually realise what is going on - I had to see this film several times before I was satisfied - it is worth struggling to understand this complex and thoroughly entertaining artistic movie.

How often do we awake from our dreams in a sweat, not knowing what is real and what is illusion? Especially if we are feverish, our dreams can turn close friends or family members into ogres and hateful creatures (or possibly werewolves) who are bent on our destruction. Such is the case with novelist Clive Langham (John Gielgud), a dying 78 year-old writer who is working on his final novel in the playfully bizarre 1977 English language film, Providence, by Alain Resnais (Hiroshima Mon Amour, Last Year at Marienbad, Muriel). The film depicts how physical and mental anguish can distort our view of reality. A poetic screenplay by playwright David Mercer and powerful performances by John Gielgud, Ellen Burstyn, Dirk Bogarde, Elaine Strich, and David Warner provide strong support.

Clive does not go gentle into that good night. During one horrific night, all the pain of his life and disturbing family relationships boil to the surface. In the novel being played out in the author's mind, his family members, sons Claude (Dirk Bogarde) and Kevin (David Warner), and Claude's wife Sonia (Ellen Burstyn), mysteriously become the main protagonists, assuming roles as prosecutors and defendants, feuding spouses, and extra-marital lovers. As Clive goes deeper into the maelstrom, images become more and more hallucinatory. The denouement is witty, baffling, irritating, and then finally transcendent. To say that the ending is a surprise is a major understatement.

Providence may exasperate you but, if you have patience, it can be a richly rewarding experience. As with all thought provoking and multi-layered films, multiple viewing may be required for full appreciation. Providence was voted the greatest film of the '70s by an international jury of critics and, at Telluride, Norman Mailer called it "the greatest film ever made on the creative process".