Les liaisons dangereuses

Roger Vadim's reputation as a director of erotica and his own affairs with numerous leading ladies has denied him serious attention by movie critics. Nevertheless, he did make a few prestigious efforts – mainly adaptations of famous, sometimes infamous, material: the film under review (based on the novel by Choderlos de Laclos), BLOOD AND ROSES (1960; Sheridan LeFanu's "Carmilla"), VICE AND VIRTUE (1963; inspired by the works of the Marquis de Sade), CIRCLE OF LOVE (1964; Arthur Schnitzler's "La Ronde"), THE GAME IS OVER (1966; Emile Zola's "La Curee'") and the "Metzengerstein" segment from SPIRITS OF THE DEAD (1968; based on an Edgar Allan Poe short story). I own all six of these but have watched only four so far, including LIAISONS; actually, I liked all of them – but, excluding SPIRITS, this first rendition of a scandalous classic emerges as not just the most satisfactory of the lot but perhaps the most significant in his entire oeuvre.

Incidentally, in view of the updating of the narrative from the 18th to the 20th century, the full original title is LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES 1960; tragically, co-star Gerard Philipe would not live to see that year through, as he succumbed to cancer two months after the film's September release…though he had, by then, finished work on another, namely Luis Bunuel's REPUBLIC OF SIN (1959). The source novel has been regularly adapted for both the big and small screens, especially in the last 25 years: I had earlier watched the 1988 DANGEROUS LIAISONS and the 1999 modernization CRUEL INTENTIONS, and also own the 1989 VALMONT and the 2003 DANGEROUS LIAISONS TV mini-series (coincidentally, featuring one of Vadim's former flames and VICE AND VIRTUE co-star Catherine Deneuve); speaking of Philipe, Vadim and remakes, it is interesting to note that Philipe had appeared in the original versions of two films Vadim would eventually rework, i.e. LA RONDE (1950) and THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS (1952; Vadim's would be made 10 years later where, again, he was just one of several directors involved in an anthology).

Anyway, this adaptation of French sexual intrigues makes a rather uneasy stab at equating what can be described as the perversions of the nobility (taking pleasure in corrupting the inexperienced, consequently quashing their idealized notion of love) with the amoral attitudes of the late 1950s; I say uneasy because, even if Federico Fellini's contemporaneous LA DOLCE VITA depicted a similarly decaying aristocracy, the 1960s would soon reveal that hedonism was pervasive and not tied to a certain class! That said, the plot retains its essential fascination – aided by the spot-on casting of Philippe, Jeanne Moreau (who would break out internationally soon after), Annette Stroyberg (then Vadim's wife and billed under his surname), Jeanne Valerie and Jean-Louis Trintignant; in keeping with the director's penchant for nudity, all three females mentioned shed their clothes throughout – but these scenes are extremely tame by the standards of even a decade down the line!

There are other good and not-so-good points: on the one hand, the ironic come-uppance of the central conniving pair (Philippe is killed in a fall while struggling with the otherwise mild-mannered Trintignant, after the latter finds out that the former has impregnated his girlfriend – and Philipe's own cousin! – Valerie; Moreau – Philipe's wife, who had also callously tried to break up the young couple's affair by seducing Trintignant – is facially-scarred after being engulfed in flames while trying to dispose of incriminating letters prior to the impending inquest over her husband's death); and the jazz soundtrack by Thelonious Monk (a trend popularized by Miles Davis' score for Louis Malle's LIFT TO THE SCAFFOLD {1958}, also featuring Moreau). On the other hand, some of the dancing at the climactic party is 'wildly' dated but, more importantly, Stroyberg's descent into madness at Philipe's deception simply does not ring true in a modern context! For what it is worth, the film is also included in the "Wonders In The Dark" poll and I watched it appositely to mark the birthdays of its director and main female star.

Many of the reviews here included are as good as anyone needs. Therefore, I will not waste your time, nor mine, writing a subjective take on what is a 6 to 8 point movie. What compels me to write, however, is a correction: the music was not written by Thelonious Monk, as is stated in at least two reviews. The credit goes to pianist Duke Jordan (1922-2006), contemporary and friend of Charlie Parker, except of course, that Jordan lived a much longer life, the last 25+ years (since 1978) in Denmark. For those who are interested, the full line up in the soundtrack includes: Sonny Cohn trumpet, Charlie Rouse tenor sax, Eddie Kahn bass, and Art Taylor drums. And, if you excuse a bit of trivia: Duke was married with jazz singer Sheila Jordan from 1952 to 1962 (at this writing, Ms Jordan is 89 years old and still performing!). Concluding, this movie has arguably one of the best jazz soundtracks of the time, not an uncommon event in French film during the 1950s and 1960s (e.g., Miles Davis, Art Blakey). This cool, post-bop, hard bop era was a great creative time for jazz, no doubt. Memorable and rewarded by time till this day.

Interesting adaptation of the infamous Laclos classic, this movie was banned in England on it's original release. Difficult to understand why by today's standards. The movie is introduced by director Roger Vadim who basically warns that everyone is going to be bad, bad, bad. He then appears to head off to the nearest cafe for a nasty cigarette and a vile cup of coffee. Given that the movie was made a decade before the sexual revolution of the 1970's it must have had an aura of scandal about it at the time but is strictly tied to the 1950's and suffers from the inhibitions of the period. Very French, very stylish and well acted by the principals the storyline holds up but the cynicism and callousness of the original book are missing. Still, it's never boring and worth seeing for the performances and the direction that later, more explicit movies would take.

Les liaisons dangereuses (1959) is a French movie co-written and directed by Roger Vadim. The film is a contemporary version of the 1782 novel by Pierre de Laclos.

Jeanne Moreau stars as Juliette de Merteuil, a beautiful but amoral woman. She lives by her own rules, which include serial infidelities and initiating seductions by one of her lovers, Valmont. (Portrayed well by Gérard Philipe.)

The target of their Valmont's seduction is Madame Tourvel, played by Annette Stroyberg. She became Annette Vadim when she married director Vadim after they met while making this movie. She was his post-Bardot sex kitten. (Unlike Moreau, she wasn't born to play the part of a virtuous young wife. She doesn't look pious or modest in the least.)

This movie has some merits--Moreau is perfect, and it's a pleasure to watch her act. Thelonius Monk composed the score, and Art Blakely and the Jazz Messengers have a long set when they are playing at a wild party. There's also the famous telegraph scene, which is powerful in a horrible sort of way.

The movie takes liberties with the plot of the novel, of course, but I think it captures the essence. However, a film about decadence and deceit isn't going to cheer you up. Ultimately, I think the blame lies with the novel, not the movie. It's a story about people that we don't like, and for whom we don't care much. That pretty much sums up my thoughts of the film.

The movie has a lackluster rating of 6.9, which which I agree. I rated it 7.

Can you think of a time when you went out "on the pull"? Where is that emotional fine line - between the little graces of life that make it so much fun – and getting deep in over your head? For Juliette and Valmont, seduction is salesmanship. Each new amour carefully planned. They have the emotional detachment of swingers. Throwing themselves into every passionate encounter with finesse. Only to return to the deeper affection they have for each other. "Love", as the English poet once said, "should be a strictly physiological matter, with just that amount of natural emotion that goes with it." Think of a jazz musician - and Director Roger Vadim obviously does – this film is scored by Thelonius Monk. There are fixed parameters in jazz, but opportunities for wide variation in between. Juliette and Valmont enjoy those variations. Then report back to the other affectionately. Or even help each other plan the improvisations.

A book that has been filmed many times, this early Vadim version is not only one of his best movies. He manages to reduce the bitching to a grand dramatic flourish, not a raison d'etre. Unsurprisingly. He was known off-screen for his sensual and avant-garde lifestyle. On-screen he can portray sensuality with realism and accuracy. (Even if the nudity is tame by today's standards.) Unlike most leads, Valmont doesn't just make girls swoon by appearing in frame. He tells them what they want to hear. If it weren't for the moralistic ending deemed necessary by popular culture, the movie could be a handbook of seduction. For the script has a feeling of authenticity.

Vadim has been described as the "classiest exploitation filmmaker who ever lived." Bardot, one of his five wives, called him, 'seduction itself.' (Of the men she married after him, she said dismissively, "They were only husbands.") The skill with which Valmont and Juliette entrance even gorgeous young ingénues is masterful. If all lovers possessed such consummate ability, might the world be a happier and less frustrating place? But, inevitably, our pair not only misuse their technique, failing to put the good of their conquests uppermost, but fall into the one trap they thought they could always avoid . . .

Cinematography in Dangerous Liaisons is straightforward cinema at its finest. The vicarious pleasure of boldly careering down the Alps almost made me want to take up skiing too. Simple use of black and white photography is mirrored in the appealing, clear-cut personas that Valmont projects. He lies in the snow, confidently dressed in black, with the virtuous Marianne all in white nest to him. Simple shots. Valmont on a train station - silhouetted against the steam. Figures on an empty beach – plus a few horses. Such composition is breathtaking. Especially with the high-keyed psychological tension that runs through. And when someone gets a sock to the jaw, it sounds real, not like it usually does 'in the movies'.

Temptation to go beyond the bounds of their seducers' art has a number of dramatic purposes. It provides a great theatrical crescendo. It gives a nod to the original book. And it 'keeps the peace' with the morality of monogamy. As Valmont's hedonism leaves its own well-defined limits, he shouts over the jazz, like a soloist insisting on ill-timed attention.

The didactic attitudes to pleasure of the day are one of the reasons that Vadim's original Dangerous Liaisons works better than in more modern interpretations. Today's woman (and man) likes to make independent choices, as well as be wooed intelligently. The careful plotting of Vadim's philanderers is more evil in a time when 'goodness' is equated with sexual ignorance Juliette and Valmont are 'clear-headed' rather than 'jealous' of each other's affairs. They have been together eleven years. Does no-one observe that this is a longer innings (by their own admission) than any of their more conservative friends? Instead of the Machiavellian rendering of the protagonists in other versions, Juliette and Valmont are ultra-chic. And, until they come off the rails, ultra-desirable.

Dangerous Liaisons is the movie that brought Jeanne Moreau (Juliette) to an international audience. Her full-on pout projects an aura of sexuality (compare her here with her performance in films such as Lumiere and L'Adolescent to see what a consummate act it is). She conquers us by identifying her 'amoral' lifestyle with a moral high ground (and one which indeed persists longer and more convincingly than that of her husband). When she refuses to sleep with him early on in the movie, she explains that she is never 'unfaithful' to her lovers. She shares the details of her current suitor with him intellectually rather than physically. And she is the first to be appalled at the human wreckage that Valmont's unconscious search for emotional truth is leaving in its wake.

We maybe tend to think of French New Wave films as being terribly provocative. Yet they could only be provocative within the bounds of the strong French censorship of the time. Films about Indochina and Algeria were halted. Dangerous Liaisons was briefly suppressed for painting an unflattering portrait of French diplomats. The Centre National de la Cinématographie strengthened its power over controversial scripts after its release. But the New Wave 'rebelliousness' – associated with the influential Cahiers du Cinema group of directors like Godard and Truffaut – was initially that of that of the 'youth class'. It was in relation to Vadim's work that the term was first coined.

Even sophistication has its limits. And this film dashes the intellectualism of high art on its head before bringing us to its gratuitously high moral conclusion.