Perceval le Gallois

Eric Rohmer's Perceval Le Gallois transports us back to the Middle Ages, offering a magical vision of the Grail legend in poetry, music, and simple imagery. The film is set in the time of King Arthur and his roundtable. By using costumes based on religious paintings of the Middle Ages, and sets of miniature gold castles and metallic trees, standing silhouetted in front of a painted canvas backdrop, Rohmer creates a sense of childlike wonder. Though based on an unfinished 12th century novel by Chretien de Troyes, the text has been modernized for modern audiences. Female and male choruses sing the connecting narration in traditional rhyming couplets and, with true theatrical flair, actors speak not only their lines but also the thoughts of the characters.

Perceval (played by Fabrice Luchini in a performance I found to be the film's biggest drawback) is a naïve youth who lives with his mother. When he is awed by his first encounter with a knight, he determines to go to King Arthur's court to become a knight. Securing the blessings of the King, he takes lessons in chivalry from the wise Gornemant de Goort (Raoul Billerey). His adventures and a subplot involving Gawain take up the remainder of the film. Perceval first captures the heart of Blanchefeur (Arielle Dombasle), then those of other fair maidens, always remembering the simple tenets taught to him by Gornemant. With a powerful depiction of the passion of Jesus Christ and an episode involving the Bloody Lance and the Holy Grail, Perceval gives us a modern insight into chivalry, and also allows us to glimpse the underlying mystery of life.

I've been on a long Rohmer kick this year, and while I greatly enjoy almost all his work I have to admit there are ways they're all rather alike. With two tremendous exceptions: "The Marquise de O." and "Perceval".

I'm glad I read the earlier-placed IMDb comments, it's very helpful to think of this, as someone suggests, as what Chretien would have produced had he had access to filmmaking rather than narrative poetry. 20th Century narrative manners had not yet developed, and what would be quirky (or downright incompetent) structuring in a late 20th Century film are entirely normal in this 12th Century film.

I am truly a lover of Rohmer's films in modern settings. Although the dialog is elevated and more self-aware than any found in real life, the dilemmas of the unusually beautiful people who ponder their way through Rohmer films are always involving and relevant.

But the latest Rohmer historic film, The Englishlady and the Duke, was quite leaden, despite the use of digitized versions of classic paintings as backdrops. The characters were too involved in their narrow revolutionary or anti-revolutionary politics, and the opportunity to relate to those characters was nil.

So I was not looking forward to Perceval, but I was completely entranced by it. It is somewhat "historical," but totally stylized. It is largely narrated by madrigal singers who wander in and out, sometimes portraying characters. The lead, Perceval (Fabrice Luchini) is a nice-looking youth, but not one to make you swoon. He's attractive in a Jean-Pierre Léaud way--objectively odd-looking, yet appealing.

The plot involves Perceval's admittance into the world of knights, gallantry, and chivalry. He is so awestruck by knightly notions that he takes to knighthood, and is taken into knighthood, with no challenge that he cannot surmount. He arrives at Arthur's (Marc Eyraud's) court, finds it feeble and on the verge of hostile takeover, and singlehandedly restores it to glory. He meets women and treats them with respect and reverence, serving them and protecting their virtue.

The plot winds away from Perceval toward the final third of the movie, focusing on Sir Gawain (André Dussollier) and one of his exploits. But I assume that this follows the source material. The movie ultimately reaches a nicely French, existentialist conclusion.

I don't know who this movie is for: perhaps for Rohmer, myself, and a few French & Francophile intellectuals. But I thought it was quite lovely.

I admit that I avoided this film for years – probably because most films that have dealt with the Arthurian legend have been pretty bad. So when I finally watch it this year during a retrospective of Rohmer's oeuvre, it was a surprise to find that this movie is really wonderful, and it ought to be better known. Based on Chretien de Troyes medieval book, the film is at times faithful to its literary source and at times very, very eccentric. The style is difficult to explain: the movie wallows in its deliberate artificiality, with its cardboard sets, its wooden acting, and its impromptu (and wonderful) medieval songs. And to top it all, the movie ends with a long rendering of a medieval mass. The movie has a lot of humor actually, which is fairly unusual in Rohmer films, a humor that is very self-conscious and is very 20th century (brechtian distance is a phrase that comes to mind when you watch this film), yet at the same time, the film sometimes looks as a film that could have been made in the 12th century, had the technology been available back then.

Let me start off by saying most folk I know are going to hate this film. I'll go one further: most human beings will hate this film. Rohmer has taken the Parsifilian myth and in translating it for the screen has created a hybrid form of storytelling combing the artifice and conventions of the world of theatre with the continuity we've grown accustomed to in the world of cinema. For some freaks (like yours truly) the wedding of these two formats works in an almost otherworldly manner making it quite unlike any film one is likely to see. Although combining elements of several of the Parsifal legends, Rohmer's retelling seems more centered on Chrétien de Troyes story than von Eisenbach's epic, endless poem.

Visually – here, at least – Rohmer remains in the world of theatre: the sets are often painted flats, or small scale models that suggest or are more representational of the tale's locations than they are visual recreations typically found in film. There are trees constructed of metal, and myriad other odd touches to the set, all of which seems to be on an enormous stylized turntable or disc that revolves as the story progresses. The film is often narrated by a group of madrigal singers who, with their ancient instruments, wander in and out of the picture (and the story) adding commentary and observation serving a function in the manner of a Greek chorus. The effect is charming adding a further medieval, church mystery quality unifying the disparate elements of Rohmer has chosen for his storytelling. Conversely, it is also one of the elements that will annoy the hell out of many viewers.

Rohmer's telling of the tale is primarily centered with the young Perceval's fascination with the world of knights and his desire to enter their world chivalrous universe. In the title role Fabrice Luchini portrays the young novice with a typically cool French sense of detachment, and arrogance – yet somehow manages to balance it all with humility and honor. Fearlessly he passes through all of his trials and in the process shows that arrogance is not always wed with pride; when one's right and aware of his skill and abilities, he needn't be boastful. It's a fascinating portrayal.

Interestingly, and more honestly than most Arthurian films Rohmer suggests more of the turmoil, weakness and near dissolution of Arthur's court than its glory. The young knight's stint at the castle, his integrity and eye for honesty wins the day earning him glory.

Rohmer's pushing of the tale to include Sir Gawain's story moves naturally adding a deeper level to this Arthurian tale, as well as reminding us of the complexity, intertwining, and timelessness of all of these legends.

Even those who may not like will not argue that visually Rohmer has created a world that is often breathtakingly beautiful. Indeed, many of the shots feel as though they'd dropped to us from glorious tapestry hanging from a damp castle wall.