As Damas do Bois de Boulogne

Just after the Nazis left, Robert Bresson directed this, his second film. The story is an updated version of a tale entitled 'Jacques le Fataliste' by Denis Diderot (1713-1784), the famous radical thinker and encyclopaedist of the French Enlightenment era. Surprisingly enough, Diderot's novels and stories have been filmed 22 times between 1922 and 2013, and this one was filmed again in both 1967 and 2005. The reference to the Bois de Boulogne is because that used to be the traditional haunt of better class prostitutes. This film is a surprisingly formal, classical film for someone like Bresson. It is primarily notable for the frighteningly intense performance by Maria Casares as a beautiful woman scorned, who applies all of her energies to destroying the lover who has jilted her. It is a horrid story of relentless, maniacal feminine vengeance. Dialogue for the film was written by Jean Cocteau. Much of the film consists of recurring shots of the smouldering gaze of Casares, who scorches the viewer, the camera, the screen, and everything and everyone in sight with her sinister, scheming hatred and determination to obtain revenge. She would have been better off going for a walk in the Bois and calming down.

Les dames du Bois de Boulogne (1945) was written and directed by Robert Bresson. This movie is the second feature film by the great French director Bresson. It's the last film in which he used professional actors.

In a story somewhat reminiscent of Les Liaisons Dangereuses, two wealthy, sophisticated lovers have a parting of the ways. Hélène, played by María Casares, senses that Jean (Paul Bernard) is losing interest in her. She suggests that they separate, and he agrees. The problem is that he agrees too readily. Hélène feigns indifference, but she plots revenge.

The weapon of revenge is Agnès, played by Elina Labourdette. Agnès is a young cabaret dancer and (we understand) a prostitute. This is an ingénue role, and it's clear that Agnès is a serious dancer, forced into this role in order to support herself and her mother. The remainder of the story depicts the way the elaborate revenge scheme involving Agnès is carried out.

Labourdette and Bernard are fine actors, and both had long careers in French cinema. However, the success of the movie comes from the extraordinary appearance and acting skills of María Casares. Casares, although Spanish, had an extremely successful career on both the French stage and screen. With her lithe figure and elegant clothing, she is every inch the French socialite. She is not beautiful in a typical cinematic way. Instead, with her triangular, almost feline face, and her narrowed eyes, she is fascinating. She dominates every scene in which she appears. No one questions her motive for revenge and her ability to achieve it. Bresson directs the film--and Casares--with the hand of a master.

We saw this movie on the large screen at the excellent Dryden Theatre at Eastman House in Rochester, NY. The person who introduced the film said it was the only print in the United States at present. This print is owned by the French government, and only lent to selected institutions. A DVD is available, but may be of a somewhat different version. Still, even if the DVD isn't an ideal substitute for the print version, it's worth obtaining and seeing. This is one of the great films of French cinema. Don't miss it!

Worldly Parisian Helene (Maria Casares) realizes that her boyfriend Jean (Paul Bernard) has fallen out of love with her. She then sets out to secretly arrange for a relationship to form between Jean and self-loathing dancer and prostitute Agnes (Elina Labourdette). Also featuring Lucienne Bogaert, Jean Marchat, and Yvette Etievant.

Robert Bresson and melodrama are two things I wouldn't expect to see together, seeing as how the director strove in his later work to remove as much sentiment and emotion as possible from his narratives. I couldn't get into this dark soap opera much, for a few reasons. The central character of Jean is never presented in such a way as to explain why anyone, either the two ladies or the audience, should care about him at all. With Jean being such an uninspired sop, most of the rest of the story seems much ado about nothing.

Casares is good in moments as the plotting Helene, but her ever-present "cat ate the canary" smirk grows tiresome and almost comical. Why would anyone trust this woman when she constantly looks like she just poisoned you? Finally, Elena Labourdette gets the biggest emotional workout in the piece, and she seems the most natural. Still, as with Jean, the script is often vague about why these characters behave as they do. Overall, I was disappointed in this, as I like many of Bresson's later works, but this just failed to click.

Very good movie by Robert Bresson. After two years with Jean, Hélène tells him that she's not in love with him like at the beginning and that the love that she still have for him is fading away. What a surprise and a sense of betrayal when Jean tells Hélène that he was feeling the same way. So, as a revenge, Hélène manage to get Jean and Agnès together. Agnès is an ex-dancer from the Bois de Boulogne. Without knowing her past, Jean will marry her. Then, when he discovers the secret, he's got a choice, leave or prove his love for Agnès.

Very well done. The cinematography is very good, so is the acting.

Out of 100, I gave it 80.

There is much to enjoy in this simple tale of the wrath of a woman scorned, but 'timeless', 'masterpiece' or 'spellbinding', I rather think not. It is beautifully shot with memorable performances and an effective if barely believable dialogue. Early on the power and determination evidenced by a mere look from Maria Casares does give one hope that this might have the power of a vintage Bunuel. Unfortunately, for me, Bresson is far more interested in humiliation and misogyny than real passion and convincing evil. I know allowances have to be made for the passing time and changes morals but surely even within the movie as it stands little really adds up. Something of infatuation is illustrated but where is the wonderful portrayal of deep love that some strange folk detect?