Journal d'un curé de campagne

That simple quote from Bresson's film sums up its teaching-and Bresson's achievement..In another review, I referred to this film as one of the handful of "elevens' in the history of film, the two or three dozen that cling to the soul forever.With absolute simplicity and unrivaled economy of means, Bresson has created one of the few 'religious experiences' in the history of cinema.SEE IT.

Journal d'un cure de Campagne is about a young priest who, whilst suffering from an illness, is assigned to a new parish in a French country village. The story is told by the priests recounting of his experiences in his diary. This itself is a powerful narrative device, as we not only understand the experiences of the protagonist, but also how he reflects upon them with hindsight, relating his observations to faith and human nature. As he carries out his duties in his new parish though, he is treated with animosity and hatred by many of the villiagers, because they see him as an unwanted intrusion into their lives. As he becomes estranged, and to an extend outcast by the townspeople, he increasingly relies on his faith for strength and comfort, however even this begins to fade as he witnesses the townspeople purvey sinful and malicous behaviour, damaging his faith in human nature.

The films of Robert Bresson, although wonderful, can at times seem austere almost to the point of being drained of any emotion. Before passing judgement though, it is important to understand his aims and understanding of film making. Bresson believed that the theatrical performing of actors had no place in cinema, and so typically cast non-actors for his films. The reason for his desire to suppress performing, was to avoid the melodramatic histrionics common with conventional acting as he believed it shortchanges the complexities of human emotion that in real life are much more subtle and not always on the surface. A large part of who we are he believed, is determined by experience, circumstance and environment. These elements affect the way we 'perform' and obscure who we are at the core essence of our being. Bresson was much more concerned with this person, whom we are when all our affectations are removed and we are laid bare. In Diary of a Country Priest, Bresson had Claude Laydu repeat scenes many times in order so that he would rid himself of all natural desire to perform. This suppressed emotion re-introduces the intricately nuanced expression, replacing the scenes with a delicate and contemplative lilt. Like Ozu, another master of character expression and portrayal, Bresson proves that by adopting this method in conjunction with his wonderful compositions, it forces the viewer to replace the lack of gratuitous emotion with their own feelings, resulting in moments of genuine pathos and emotion.

This must be one of the most touching movies I have seen in my

life. I would rank it high up there with movies like The Bicycle Thief.

It depicts human frailty at its best (and consequently, worst) in a

very pure and painfully real light. I think this this is definitely a movie that cannot be remade, the

priest's expressions and anxiety are too perfect to be replaced. I

only wish I watched a good copy (mine skipped scenes and cut

dialogues). Regardless, this movie is definitely an all-time best,

and deals with such personal issues at such a personal level that

it can never age. It touches the soul straight on and literally takes

one's breath away.

A young priest has been assigned his first parish in a village somewhere in the North of France. Right from the first, essential opening shot in beautiful black and white, we instinctively get a sense of his isolation from any other human being. As the final credits rolled by, I don't know why I had the impulse to restart the DVD, and I watched the first 5 minutes of the movie again, realising just how much of a harbinger of extreme loneliness the opening frames are. Diary of a Country Priest is in good part about loneliness - the extreme physical, emotional and intellectual isolation of those who embark on an earnest mission, with an inability to compromise and a sincerity (with its resulting emotional vulnerability) which both frightens and repulses those who aren't ready to receive it. I was especially thankful to Bresson for having left us with a film about a priest which didn't involve his tiresome sexual issues in any shape or form - what a refreshing change! In the role of the young parish priest of Ambricourt, young Claude Laydu was in his debut role here - though he very occasionally shows his inexperience as an actor, he is nonetheless remarkable in the title role, and his sensitive, silently suffering, candid boyish face will remain with me for quite a while. It's extraordinary that such a movie, so completely devoid of any mass appeal or commercial potential, should have found someone willing to fund it. This kind of thing restores one's faith in the integrity and vision of certain cinematic enterprises.

That Robert Bresson's (1907-1999) films is somewhat hard to digest must be the understatement of the century. But for those who feel entangled in the most profound questions of the human existence, this movie must seem like a harrowing thriller! All others will probably be more or less indifferent to the escapades of a young priest in a small french village. Bresson's movies are among the most unique in the history of motion pictures; they are like nothing else I have ever seen and the themes are somewhat innovative. That is, the storyline are simple, but in all his films he deals with tormented people and the main theme seems to be the search for freedom and the futile battle against the human conditions. In a sense he is the most pessimistic of all directors, not only the french, but in a strange way he is perhaps the one that is closest to the truth and to life itself.