A Bela Intrigante

Can watching paint dry be riveting, interesting, and compelling? Can looking at a beautiful woman who is naked for almost three of four hours long movie be not erotic? Is it possible to watch the movie where an Artist creates sketch after sketch of his model in preparation for a painting and many scenes run in real time and not become bored but instead be totally absorbed by the painter on the screen and how he was progressing with his work? Jacques Rivette's "Le Belle Noiseuse" is certainly not for every taste but I found it immensely rewarding. It is one of very few films where creative process with all its tension, uncertainty, selfishness and self-centering of an artist who once he began working is nearly oblivious not only to his model's discomfort but to the feelings of the ones close to him have been shown on the screen with such truthful passion, technical excellence, and tremendous acting. Michel Piccoli as an aging painter Edouard Frenhofer, once famous and productive, Jane Birkin (Liz)- his much younger wife and a former favorite model, and Emmanuelle Béart as Marianne, the young, bright, and intensely intelligent woman whose presence awakened Frenhofer from semi-lethargy and made him want to paint again were unforgettable.

The film also explores a vital for any artist subject – what is more important, the process of creating a work of art or the result?

An absorbing four-hour masterpiece from Jacques Rivette. I cannot recall the last time I was so overwhelmed by a film.

"La Belle noiseuse" is a brilliant character study buoyed by two astonishing performances from the always-wonderful Michel Piccoli and the stunning Emmanuelle Béart. She's uncommonly gorgeous, has the most piercing eyes of any actress in recent memory and the way she bares her character's soul is completely entrancing.

This is a film for cineastes who enjoy complex, vividly-drawn characters and the slow unfolding of a story. Rivette takes his time telling us this story. We see the artist Eduoard get his studio ready - collecting his pencils and brushes, finding the sketchbook, filling glasses with water, rearranging the furniture, moving aside paintings.

And then there are those moments in this beautiful film where neither Eduoard nor Marianne speaks. All we see is the artist's hand scribbling in his notebook, maybe the nude model's pose and her glare. The only sound is that of the artist's nib scratching paper as Rivette shows us the preliminary sketches the artist draws before he gets to the canvas.

This goes on for several minutes, yet it's far from dull. On the contrary, it's absolutely riveting. We can't peel our eyes away from the artist's hand. We're captivated as the human form takes shape on the paper and canvas. It's brilliant stuff.

This was the film that made Béart a star. Rightly so, too. Her transformation from the loving wife to the reluctant model to ultimately the provocateur is utterly believable. Her performance doesn't have a false moment. It's as intelligent as it is provocative, one that could easily have been overwrought, but is played to perfection.

The scenes between Piccoli and Béart are fascinating because their relationship grows so unconventionally. Rivette turns their relationship into an engrossing battle of wits. Initially, Eduoard manhandles Marianne, moving her arms and legs about as if she were a mannequin. She is shy, uncomfortable with being nude. But as the hours progress into days, her comfort level grows. Soon, as the artist grows weary, it's the model who spurs him on.

True, four hours is a heckuva long time to spend at a film. But there are hugely popular and well-made thrillers that don't come close to being as mesmerizing as this exquisite work of art.

Having seen "Va Savoir" recently prompted me to rent Jacques Rivette's 1990 "La Belle Noiseuse," a daunting runtime of 240 minutes (though I noticed it was only 3 hr. 48 mins.) It's well worth the time and experience. An experience in painting - nude figure drawing to be precise. But it's not a film merely about lessons in nude figure modeling from the beautiful Emmanuelle Béart, or meticulous details of an artist's painting process from veteran actor Michel Piccoli, there is a Rivette storyline depicting multiple relationships, himself literally painting us psychological pictures/sketches. He's truly the French filmic master of human predicaments between man and woman. Rivette has such visions, skillful techniques, and superb craft in telling his story with thoughtful details - never misses a beat.

The beginning scenes put us in a comfortable rural setting outside of Paris - beautiful open views of the village town, captures of the villa architectural interiors, and tastes of the lovely airy gardens and shady greens exterior. Yes, there are plenty of dialogs, but the inclusion of real-time ambient and environmental sounds made "La Belle Noiseuse" experience whole. It has the most wonderful ordinary sound of the studio door with latch creak opens and closes - it comes so naturally. There's the pen nib scratching against the sketchpad paper, the chalk against the surface of a canvas, even the quick ruffling of sheets when Béart the model swivel-turned in defiance - such detailed little sounds simply add to the flavor and tone of the story. We see two pairs of relationship and then some: between the mature and weathered pair of Edouard Frenhofer the painter and Liz his wife (who used to be his favorite model) portrayed by Michel Piccoli and Jane Birkin; the younger set Marianne and Nicolas, yet to absorb the trials and zest of life, portrayed by Emmanuelle Béart and David Bursztein; then the twists of the mercurial commercial-minded Balthazar Porbus, the unrelenting insistent Nicolas' sister Julienne, with gentle relieving pauses from young Magali, daughter of housekeeper Francoise, not to forget Justine the Cat.

Other then an Igor Stravinsky piece used for the beginning/ending credit roll, and Magali's brief morning ballet exercise, there's really no background music used. The occasional church bell rings, sounds of cicada and rustling leaves provided serene accents. Much is said in the unsaid, and the ending portion sure makes one wonder and prompts reflections. Rivette has a flair for unsuspecting ending drama, almost philosophical, or could it be renewed beginnings?

The paintings/drawings were from the hands of Bernard Dufour. Cinematography by William Lubtchansky, especially inside the studio, captured the critical chiaroscuro (light and shadows) of drawing/modeling sessions. Michel Piccoli is a regular in Luis Bunuel films; "Belle de Jour" 1967, with Catherine Deneuve is one example. Jane Birkin has such a gentle yet fortified disposition; she's in Bertrand Tavernier's "Daddy Nostalgia" 1990, opposite Dirk Bogarde. I really enjoy Emmanuelle Béart's performance in Claude Sautet's "Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud" 1995, with Michel Serrault, who was equally brilliant.

All I love about Rivette is in this film, and lots of it.

(1) The actors create 'souls', personalities and stratagems for their characters in collaboration with Laurent, Bonitzer and Rivette, instead of reciting cut and dried parts. Piccoli, Béart, Birkin and the others work little miracles all the time: their interactions feel shrewd, humane, intense, both mysterious where some background is yet missing to the viewer and utterly believable once it is revealed, without trace of the usual high-strung film acting centered on the single significant moment and rammed down the public's throat in so many contemporary movies.

(2) The setting, the Chateau d'Assas, is completely integrated into and driving the story, and is cleverly employed and fully respected in the mise èn scéne: it is not a quarry for illustrative backdrops and environments, but a real space conditioning the story just like the personalities involved.

(3) The mise èn scéne and cadrage always leave the necessary breathing space and time for story and personality development and interaction. Nothing is ever forced or abbreviated - and yes, this makes movies longer.

The 'plot' is typical for Rivette, as it contains a subtle fantastic element: here the idea, that a painter could find, sum up, condense and make visible the complete essence of a person in a painting. This fantasy lends urgency to the old dichotomies of life and art, of love and creativity. It is otherwise a mere pretext to set the story in motion and expose the characters. (In Balzac's 'Chef d-oeuvre inconnu', the attempt of Frenhofer to capture his model completely only led to a completely unreadable painting.)

The scenes where Marianne models for Frenhofer are to my knowledge unique in cinema. They represent transparently both the very subtle interaction between painter and model, and the genesis of the resulting sketch.

To show spontaneous sketching of highest quality, the hand of Bertrand Dufour was filmed while drawing/painting the posing Béart. Then Piccoli incorporated the gestures of the hand of Dufour into the scenes of Frenhofer and Marianne. Given the complexity and freedom in their interaction, the tension and homogeneity of the assembled scenes is quite a miracle.

No numerical vote, of course: one must never allow the quality of a piece of art to be in any way a subject to voting.

In his four hour drama La Belle Noiseuse, French filmmaker Jacques Rivette has painted a haunting portrayal of an artist, a model, and the effects that a work can have on those involved. It is a brave piece of film-making, featuring physical and emotional openness. The film moves very slowly, but is very much worth watching. La Belle Noiseuse allows us to watch the creation of a piece of art and how it can change a person. This is a true accomplishment. The actors are all very much on key and, with no real script, provide real and believable dialogue. Rivette paints these characters in a very human way: it's easy to imagine these people existing. There are no movie tricks. It's a truly naked film in that it offers such an intimate look into the hearts of the main characters. Anytime a film can do this, you know it's something special.

La Belle Noiseuse revolves around two couples. Marianne and Nicolas are a young couple. Nicolas is an artist and has been invited to take a look at the studio of Frenhofer, a once revered and respected painter who has given up his art. While discussing a painting that Frenhofer never finished – the "La Belle Noiseuse" – Nicolas suggests that Frenhofer use Marianne as his model. Frenhofer agrees. However, Marianne is not very happy about this. She arrives at the studio very disheartened. As Frenhofer draws and paints her, the two of them get to know each other. Marianne's resentment falls away and she becomes more open with Frenhofer, doing as he says, asking him questions, posing how he'd like. Frenhofer wants to dig deeper. As a painter, he feels the need to really capture the essence of his model. His wife, Liz, was his last model. As a result of this need to dig deeper, he was forced to either give up painting or give up his wife. The film spends much of its four hour running time in the studio with Marianne and Frenhofer. Otherwise, there are scenes with Frenhofer and Liz, as well as with Liz and Nicolas, and Marianne and Nicolas, who are growing apart by the day.

For those who can endure the extreme running time, La Belle Noiseuse is a fascinating film to watch. The characters, as I said before, are very real. Much of the film features Marianne (played by the lovely Emmanuelle Beart) posing nude. It's a bold performance for the actress, who must bear her soul as well as her body in order for the performance to be effective. She is absolutely wonderful, as is Michel Piccoli as the bitter painter. The only problem I have with the film is not that it's so long, but that much of it focuses on the drawing. There are five and ten minute scenes where the audience watches Frenhofer sketch and paint. It's fascinating at first, but eventually becomes a bit tedious. This should not steer anyone away, though. Anyone who can appreciate slow moving character studies should be fine.

To sum up, I would recommend La Belle Noiseuse. However, a person should probably know what they are getting into prior to watching. The film is not for everyone. It takes patience to enjoy, but for those who can, it is very rewarding. Jacques Rivette is a truly revolutionary director. The other film I've seen from him, Celine and Julie Go Boating, is just as wonderful as La Belle Noiseuse, but is in a completely different universe. He is a very versatile, unique, and underrated director. La Belle Noiseuse shows this. It's a beautiful film.

9/10