Le journal d'une femme de chambre

"Life is life. From now on I'm going to fight, and I'm going to fight hard, and I don't care who gets hurt, just so as it's not me."

"Don't be afraid of me. You and I are alike, maybe not in looks, but underneath we are the same."

"How does it feel to be in love?

• It changes all the time."

"Plans can get you into trouble."

"We are not used to kissing in public.

• Not in public. Are you ashamed? You shouldn't be ashamed of love. You should be proud. Take him in your arms, hold him, kiss him, embrace him!"

"Where are you going?

• Flying to the moon." 😂

"The more I'm beaten, the stronger I get."

The Diary of a Chambermaid is a transitional film in the development of Renoir's lesser known stylistic system. Braudy would later distinguish Renoir's two systems as being tied to theater and realism respectively (although there have been compelling arguments about these categories being either reductive or simply misnomers). Goddard is the focus of the story (much in the same way Renoir later uses Magnani, Arnoul and Bergman). The camera tracks her action, her closeups are one-shot, there are alternating shot scales in single scenes to emphasize her character's psychological reaction to events, studio exteriors help idealize the framing of her screen personality and high/low angle shots purvey her psychological perspective on group dynamics. Celestine (Goddard) has an ambiguity to her motivation that heightens psychological identification. It is unclear as to whether she sees the world divided into classes or sexes, or both. The ending is a happy one, and the politics is further subverted through jovial and emotionally-charged highly-individualized characters. Non-diegetic soundtrack is employed to increase distinctions in the emotional responses of different characters. Depth of field is at the service of Celestine's staging while obstructions in the mise-en-scene become incorporated into the plot. In this respect, the camera is not an unobtrusive one. There is an inconsistency in the use of stylistics, where on one hand reframing pans are fully at the service of psychological identification and privilege of the transcendental subject position while the long take mobile framing of the July 14th celebration reminisce on M.Lange, Illusion and Regle. Diary is a melodrama with comedic elements to take the edges off, but when the master of the house reads in the morning paper "another woman murdered in Paris, another woman cut to pieces" there is no doubt that Renoir is infusing a consideration for the plight of women in a misogynist society. This was very important to him and perhaps the dark undertones of this film have something to say about the repression he experienced working in Hollywood for the war. How Burgess Meredith factors into all that remains to be seen.

I cannot pretend to explain all the allusions and metaphors Renoir intended to convey with this impressionistic comedy. Paulette Goddard, as the main character, is magnificent. She conveys her feelings and thoughts through her diary, but in a manner that is always blurry and full of confusion. And speaking of confusion, Hurd Hatfield is on hand as the scion of the odd home. Burgess Meredith, Francis Lederer, and Irene Ryan all add terrific seriocomic support in their roles.

Be prepared to experience many conflicting feelings while viewing this film.

As Paulette Goddard plies her "magic," things don't always go as planned. She is a gold digger and doesn't hesitate to settle for less attractive if there is money on the way. What happens is a series of abutments that hold up the process. For me the charm of he movie was the use of some great character actors. A young Burgess Meredith and Irene Ryan. It's one of those films that is ultimately forgettable but has some nice moments.

Octave Mirbeau's brilliant, chilling novel was written more than 100 years ago, but its sordid, sexy, near-surrealistic mood and story could not possibly be given a worthy treatment in 1946, and certainly not in an America still subject to the Hays code. This film takes only some of the incidents in the episodic novel and tries to make the story into an eccentric romantic comedy. But, minus the mood and ambiance of the novel, the result is awkward and odd. An important aspect of the novel, anti-semitism (the book was written when France was torn apart by the Dreyfus case) is completely left out, and, instead of perversion and cruelty, Celestine experiences, from her employers, only annoyance. The performances are lightweight, except for Francis Lederer (always good at gentlemanly brutes) as the sinister valet. The film's only moments of horror occur when he indulges his talent, and taste, for discreet violence.

Nothing the great Renoir directed is without interest, and this Diary certainly has moments of beauty and affectionate comedy. But a much more accurate adaptation was Bunuel's in 1964. He left in the anti- semitism, and his own sexy-sadistic-surrealistic mood was a perfect match for Mirbeau's. One moment in this story reminded me of a similar incident, one of my favourites in a Bunuel film. The family for whom the chambermaid works lives next to a peppery, eccentric old man who demonstrates his loathing for his neighbours by throwing rocks through the panes of their greenhouse. In The Exterminating Angel, the partygoers are frightened when a brick is thrown through the window. The host calms them with "It's nothing. Just a passing Jew." Priceless!