Conto da Primavera

The first in Eric Rohmer's Four Seasons series, A Tale In Springtime is the story of an introverted young girl (Florence Darel) just reaching adulthood who takes a liking to an older woman she meets at a party (Anne Teyssedre) and determines to match her off with her father (Hugues Quester), despite the latter's already having a lover of his own. There is a certain absurdity to this, apparent to both adults, who though both reluctantly attracted to each other resent Darel's attempts at matchmaking. Nevertheless, both of them are intelligent enough to understand that there is no 'proper' way to meet, and are alive to the possibilities that life brings them. Darel, for her part, is a persistent catalyst. As with all Rohmer films, the stage is set, in an age of increasing impermanence and uncertainty in human relationships, for a series of minimalist reflections on love and life.

There is no sense of inevitability in this film; indeed it acknowledges throughout the unpredictable consequences of the choices we make in life. The implicit message of the film is that it is not so much the choices we make, but the cultivation of personal sensibility, awareness of others and honesty that will offer us the greatest chance of happiness. But then again nothing is certain! If, like me, you love Rohmer's films then you will adore the subtlety of this film and enjoy the challenge of absorbing the numerous philosophical reflections that are an essential part of it. The acting is good, and you care about what happens to all three protagonists, although not too much; their dilemmas are our dilemmas too, but whatever choices they make now, they will still be making choices for the rest of their lives.

And that is as it should be.

It may seem strange that with all the great Rohmer films to choose from, that this would be my favorite. After all, it is a slow moving film, with a threadbare plot, even by Rohmer standards, and yet completely enchants me. Jeanne, the main character, is an ordinary, middle-class woman, at the start of her career as a teacher, at the start of a relationship with Mathieu (whom we never see) still trying to figure her life out. She recognizes her own shortcomings, she thinks too much, she's not able to confide in others and she is sometimes too accommodating to people. Yet she is a noble character, with great integrity and kindness.

There is a wonderful little scene in Natasha's apartment. Jeanne is grading papers in the dining room as Natasha comes home from school, and in the kitchen, the living and Natasha's bedroom are flowers Jeanne has bought to thank Natasha for her kindness. Natasha, in return, is so touched by Jeanne's act of kindness that she can barely contain herself. This one little scene shows so much. Jeanne's dedication as a teacher, her kindness to people, and flowers to herald in the first days of spring.

As their situations develop, and really there is no reason to speak of the plot, there is a deepening bond as the viewer spends more time with the characters, in simple things, doing simple chores, cutting potatoes, folding clothes, listening to music, and paying attention to what is said, and not said, in their conversations, and at the end of the movie, you seem to have made some very good friends. It's a wonderful thing to be touched by art, but it is more wonderful, I think, to be touched by ordinary life and ordinary people. By not attempting to, Rohmer has made a masterpiece.

The French movie Conte de printemps (1990) was shown in the U.S. with the translated title, A Tale of Springtime. It was written and directed by Éric Rohmer. (It was the first of Rohmer's Tales of Four Seasons. Appropriately, the movie bursts with color--grass, flowers, trees.)

Anne Teyssèdre portrays Jeanne, who teaches philosophy at a lycée in Paris. (I learned that philosophy is a required course in the senior year in a lycée.) Florence Darel plays Natacha, an 18-year-old student of piano at the conservatory.

For complicated reasons, Jeanne can't stay in her own apartment or in her boyfriend's apartment. That means she stays with Natacha, and then visits Natacha's vacation estate. Natacha tries to make her father and Anne lovers, and that's the basic plot of the film.

One of my cinema buff friends pointed out to me that John Sayles never makes the same movie twice. I have to agree--I just reviewed Matewan and The Secret of Roan Inish. Worlds apart--literally and figuratively.

Not so with Rohmer. He has a style, and he sticks to it. His characters don't take dramatic action. In fact, the most active thing they do is to open a book and settle down to read it. What Rohmer's characters do is talk. When they're done talking, they talk some more. It's not gossip. In one long scene there's a discussion about the finer points of Existentialism. The reason I respect Rohmer as a director is that when his characters talk, it's interesting to hear what they have to say.

Anne Teyssèdre and Florence Darel are both well known actors in France, but neither made the decision to work outside France. (However, Florence Darel got close enough to Hollywood to be propositioned by Harvey Weinstein.) Both women are fine actors.

It's a pleasure to see a film with women in both lead roles. (Not common in 1990, and still not common 30 years later.)

I enjoyed this movie and recommend it. It has a strong IMDb rating of 7.3. I thought it was even better than that, and rated it 9.

Clever, witty, tasteful, bloodless. Although sex seems to be on everyone's mind in this post-modern tale, only Beethoven, Schubert, and Schumann provide any passion in a film that reminds me more of Satie's witty piano doodles.

To summarize, the film is basically about the beginning of a friendship between two women: a philosophy teacher and a younger pianist. The pianist wants to set up the philosopher with her father, who is already seeing someone else.

The resulting tensions play out at a summer cottage. The film is mostly dialog, and every feeling or impulse gets examined. Which makes sense, because of the bourgeois, self-involved bent of the characters.

I think the greatest point of action is when a dish gets nearly dropped (but it's saved and the characters then argue over who was to blame).

Although it has some pleasing insights, I wouldn't recommend the film to most people because it's simply too ponderous. Frankly it could use some comic relief. The fine country setting mitigates the over-intellectualizing somewhat, but Rohmer has made other films that are better.