A História de Marie e Julien

Perhaps a few of the above comments mights be useful if they were sure to not do these two things:

1.Admit up front that the only reason you attended a screening was because you always wanted to be seen at a film festival and because you happen to have a thing for an actress (what does her attire at the festival have to do with the film at all?)

2.Admit that you didn't even make the effort to sit through the entire film.

By doing these two things you immediately discredit yourself as a critic (casual or professional, it does not matter) and as a serious movie goer. Why don't you save such trivial opinions for Spielberg and Cameron movies, where people might care? When viewing a film from a director with Rivette's past, one can't expect light fair at a lightening pace. I suppose you expect an action film from Godard or Tarkovsky too? I will myself admit that it was not a fantastic film, but the reasons for which these others so unjustly scrutinize the film are the exact reasons that make it interesting. I personally could have watched Julien toy with his clocks and his cat "Nevermore" and Marie 'set up house' the entire two and a half hours. The territory that this film explores is the relationship between two individuals and how their own consciousness relates to the cinematic narrative through these relationships. Granted this topic of "the abyss" between two lovers or siblings is common fair in high-culture drama, yet it becomes nonetheless intriguing for the patient spectator in that it eventually dives into the terrain of low-culture genre film. The subject chosen by M. Rivette is expertly relayed through painstaking detail and precision, something absolutely necessary to it, and something that can only be accomplished after a lifelong devotion to the cinematic medium. If he had done this movie 30 years ago when he first started filming it, before giving it up until now--thats right folks and mindless commentators, 25 years before the movies its said to have ripped off--I'm not sure he would have created a similar film, one infused with a comparable, patient interrogation of human relationships and suffused with the same amount of warm compassion and empathy for his characters.

Jacques Rivette's "Histoire de Marie et Julien" is bound to confound or disappoint today's audience, but not the followers of this director's work. The film does not conform to the dominant norms of current film-making that require a solid plot with familiar or identifiable characters whose actions are socially or psychologically motivated in order to have a semblance of verisimilitude. Its characters seem to inhabit more the filmic universe than a real one and a correspondence amongst those two is not straightforward to establish. The situations explored here (blackmail, amour fou, guilt, resurrection etc) and the characters actions are elliptically presented, but they, through a meticulous and extremely precise reconstruction of the filmic reality, uncannily make perfect sense within the narrative, provided that the viewer does not try to interpret the action using concepts alien to the filmic reality.

The film requires from its audience constant participation to grasp its narrative subtleties and the patent exploration of abstract concepts such as time (cf. the last line of the film is "give me some time"; Julien is a clock meddler), the fusion of dream and reality (the first chance meeting is initially dreamt but occurs immediately afterwards; Marie's dreams command her actions when awake), guilt and redemption (the subplot involving the blackmailed woman and their sister) etc. The cyclic structure of the film with four chapter denoting different, albeit subtle, shifts in narrative perspective invite the viewer to adjust his approach according to the tonal modulations of the unfolding story. The reflexive nature of the filmic story becomes, thus, a vehicle for self-examination on behalf of the viewer of held preconceptions and ideas related to the issues unravelled within the film.

A uniquely rewarding movie for those willing to be engaged in its narrative discourse. The work of a master.

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.

This is a very "French" film, meaning realism tinged with poetry and romanticism. Yeah, it's too bad that a subtle, intricate and beautifully acted film such as this will be a challenge for most people for ADD. Actually, I think it's more like people who just don't have the knack for anything else other than football and beer (I actually have some major ADD). But this movie is so engaging from the start, the moment Emmanuelle Beart's uncanny, cold frozen eyes stares into the camera.

I got to admit, some parts of the movie is a bit slow, but over all it is a delightfully intriguing film with a surprise ending that has substantial payoff beyond typical clichés.

For all those romantics who are sick of When Harry Met Sally stories, check out Story of Marie and Julien.

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.