A História de Marie e Julien

Why do certain people that go to the movies think that (their) being bored is important for the destiny of the world? Why do they keep punching us with their problems of boredom?

Can't they understand that, to share something with the others, it's important to have some ideas (just a small one, please...) about the movie itself? Do they think that when they proclaim their boredom they are giving to the world some kind of undisputed law?

Is it so difficult to understand that the Rivette work cannot be understood by the rules of mediocre entertainment? Is it so painful to address the simple idea that Rivette keeps filming the mystery of love? And that he doesn't want to bore us with the vulgar ideas of a vulgar TV-movie?

Whether one thinks it more appropriate to place the onus on a filmmaker or on the individual viewer, the truth is that any given film generally has just one chance to make a good impression. Rewatching our favorites is one thing; very rarely do we revisit something that we haven't seen for a long time, and see how it comes across many years later. More often, we'll say "maybe I should give it another chance some time," but we never do, because there are so many other titles to occupy ourselves with. Complicating matters further is that sometimes a picture rather requires one to be in a particular headspace to best appreciate it, and if one is not, the odds of that picture meeting with our especial favor are lesser still. I say all this because to whatever extent I like 'Histoire de Marie et Julien' - and I do like it, very much - I can't help but think that I've done it a disservice. To watch, let alone to read up on the history of the screenplay and the production, it's obvious that Jacques Rivette poured a tremendous amount of hard work and intelligence into the project: themes, motifs, bigger and grander ideas. Maybe it's just me (it probably is), and whether in the moment I sat to watch or perhaps more broadly maybe I'm just not on the same wavelength, but I don't know how much these come across, or how present they truly are in the end product, or indeed how important. If they're not important at all to one's appreciation of the whole, then it seems as though this movie is inherently incomplete in some esoteric way.

This much is certain: compared to what is surely Rivette's biggest claim to fame, 'La belle noiseuse,' this is far more abstruse in its artistic machinations. Here he and his co-writers blend together drama, romance, and mystery with the supernatural, a sad and ultimately kind of depressing story of love, tragedy, loss, and farewells. Unlike that picture of twelve years prior, in which four hours passed incredibly smoothly and beautifully, these two and one-half hours are most definitely felt as the narrative crawls sideways as much as forward. Down to the last few spoken lines of dialogue I don't know if everything Rivette and his collaborates intended is fully and perfectly communicated, yet be that as it may, and even with the length in mind, by and large I think this is splendidly well done. With or without the less evident intentions I think the storytelling could have been tightened, but regardless there's welcome complexity and lush detail in the writing of the characters, scene writing, and overall plot, and the dialogue tends to simply add another layer of flourish and ingenuity. Similarly, one readily discerns the utmost finesse in William Lubtchansky's cinematography, with more discrete emphasis on lighting than one customarily sees in modern cinema. Not to be counted out, the production design, art direction, costume design, and hair and makeup are all terrific, very easy on the eyes as they lend to the artful airs about the proceedings. In this instance I think the cast are a little less noteworthy than the otherwise construction, but all perform admirably, and of everyone in front of the camera Emmanuelle Béart definitely stands out most; her role requires splits between charged emotions and gratifying nuance, and she navigates that space most deftly.

As suggested, I think 'Histoire de Marie et Julien' is something I'd appreciate more if I sat for it a second time, and perhaps with a more focused mind. I recognize that there are doubtlessly subtleties here that I'm just not picking up on - or at least, I hope that's the case, because the alternative is that I'm giving Rivette too much credit. Some of my favorite movies share far more in common with this than not; this is an example that just doesn't meet with the same success for me. Even so, I did enjoy this feature, and I think it deserves a look, even if it's less than totally impeccable. Given the pointedly subdued tone this maintains, and the storytelling that's less than completely straightforward, I can understand how this won't appeal to everyone, and I'd suggest it most for those who are already receptive to the more arthouse side of the medium. Yet while the film is no great revelation by any means, I think it's well done even as I see it, and other attentive viewers will unquestionably get still more out of the experience. Temper your expectations and don't go out of your way for 'Histoire de Marie et Julien,' but if you do have the opportunity to watch, it's worth exploring.

While The Story of Marie and Julien seemed to be a minor Rivette film to me when I bought the DVD, it's taken on whole new meanings in the context of his entire oeuvre, which I've been following at a local festival. What's immediately noticeable -- and Rivette movies need at least 10 years to age before really coming into their own, the moment in which they were filmed needs to have passed from concrete reality into vague memory -- is that Marie et Julien has the feel of a concluding statement. But unlike most concluding statements of great authors, such as Eyes Wide Shut, where Kubrick essentially undoes the arrogant moral and intellectual certainty of 2001 and admits he's going into the great beyond with the innocence and confusion of a baby ( or starchild ), this isn't about what Rivette has learned or unlearned during his 70-odd years on earth. What gives Marie et Julien its particular character is that its relative simplicity is not something arrived at but something that has been DELIBERATELY REPRESSED during the entire half-century of Rivette's career. Though it takes place in the modern day, one feels that Rivette is referring to a central personal experience that happened before he ever began making films, way back in the mists of time, something so primal that he's had to dance around it for fifty years, in a kind of monastic flirtation with death, sensually delaying the moment of his final consummation by immersing himself in the unknown. But all along, this was an act, a masquerade, just as he considers this life itself to be. All this time, he wanted us to be seduced by his reflections of life's mystery, in order to feel the vicarious joy of not-knowing, of fear and uncertainty, the only real pleasures of being human. But in truth Rivette, like Meister Eckhart, or like the goddesses from his own Duelle who beg to be made mortal in order to be divested of the burden of total awareness, has always been one of those from whom "God hides nothing." This greatest poet of conspiracy and mystery here admits the truth he's been puckishly concealing all along -- mystery, fear, terror are illusions. There is only love.

The result of this unveiling, this outwardly old man's return to purity, hope and youth, for those ready to receive it, is a movie that accomplishes what so many charlatans through history have promised -- it defeats death. If you don't shudder at Emmanuelle Beart's final line, if you don't get a frisson at the opening sound collage of car motors and pedestrian noise being swallowed up by a ghostly drone, that's fine, it just means you are being kept in the dark temporarily while you complete your mission, whatever that may be. It's not for me to blurt out in a review what Rivette knows must not be said directly. Well, not in a FREE Internet review, anyway.

P.S. See if, during one of the numerous sex scenes in this film, you can spot the oblique reference to Heinrich von Kleist's strangely cinematic play Penthesilea ( it dates from the early 19th century yet was considered unstageable then, being written like a modern film script with tons of brief scenes. ) I thought I was hallucinating this reference until I saw a Rivette documentary from 1990 where he talks about Kleist. The play, as everyone who has read it knows, is the greatest ever written about the damage that men and women do to each other on earth. That is half of what this film is about, too. The other half isn't about earth at all.

This film only works because Emmanuelle Béart is incredibly beautiful and fascinating to watch. Her acting is terrible in this movie ; the scenes in which she is supposed to be in a transe are almost cringy. Yet her magnetic presence makes it all worthwhile. The sex scenes are not exciting but the idea of sex with her (even for a straight girl) somehow is enough.

It all comes down to casting the right woman because her male counterpart, though a better actor in this, is quite repulsive. Why cast an old, overweight and ugly man as the love interest of such a dreamy woman ? You don't want her being touched by that man and you can hardly believe she would love him so passionately since nothing about his looks or personnality make him stand out in a good way. Quite the opposite actually.

As for the story, it is really weird, if not completely absurd but again, with Béart as its main subject, you cannot stop watching.

So basically, if you are not a fan of hers, just walk away.

The French movie Histoire de Marie et Julien was shown in the U.S. with the translated title, The Story of Marie and Julien (2003). It was directed by Jacques Rivette.

Rivette was the first great proponent of what became known as the French New Wave. His contemporaries like Godard and Truffaut respected him, and followed in his path. (Incidentally, Rivette died in January 2016.)

As the title tells us, this film is a story--actually a love story--about Marie and Julien. Julien, played by the excellent actor Jerzy Radziwilowicz, repairs large clocks that are placed in bell towers. He lives a quiet life with his cat, Nevermore, until he chances to meet Marie. (Marie is portrayed by Emmanuelle Béart.)

Also, as we learn when the movie begins, Julien is a blackmailer. He has found some incriminating material about a woman we only know as Madame X (Anne Brochet). She is willing to pay his price, and the blackmailing proceeds, in stages, throughout the film. No one seems to notice or care that Julien is a blackmailer. Apparently, this is just a small quirk.

For the record, Anne Borchet is a beautiful woman. Rivette loved to direct beautiful women. These included many of the most famous women actors of the era--his muse, Bulle Ogier, Sandrine Bonnaire, and Anna Karina. However, none of them can compare to the chemistry that Rivette shared with Béart.

Emmanuelle Béart was extraordinarily beautiful. We know it, she knows it, and director Rivette knows it. The part of Marie requires someone truly beautiful, because she is the true protagonist of the movie. There are long takes where only Marie is on screen. We see her wandering around Julien's house, touching things, looking into cabinets, arranging a room. If Marie weren't beautiful, we wouldn't really care about how interesting she is, how unusual she is, or how mysterious she is. With Béart in the role, we care.

When the film was produced, Béart was 40. She had lost the ingenue qualities we had seen in Manon of the Spring and La Belle Noiseuse. However, she had lost none of her beauty, and Rivette utilized it every time he presented her to us. She made the movie work.

Special note should be given to Julien's cat, Nevermore, played by Gaspard. Gaspard is everywhere when we are in Julien's home, and although he doesn't have a speaking role, the other actors all talk to him. (At one point Marie tells him, "Stop spying on me. Mind your own business.") Nevermore wears a bell, so when you don't see him, you hear him. (It's true that, when they are hunting, cats are so agile that they keep the bell from ringing. Nevermore doesn't care if the bell rings. It's his theme song.)

We saw this film on DVD, and it worked very well. Naturally, Rivette crafted it for a movie theater audience, but the small screen was fine.

This is a slow film, with many long quiet moments. If you want action and excitement, it's the wrong movie for you. However, if you want to see a thoughtful, unusual movie, find Marie and Julien and watch it.