La Lectrice

The output of director Michel Deville is difficult to categorise, assuming one feels the need to do so. He is nothing if not varied. Between 1985 and 1988 he gave us the erotic thriller 'Peril en la Demeure', probably his most successful film, followed by the bizarre and surreal 'Paltoquet' which must be accounted a noble failure and finally the delightful 'La Lectrice'.

This is to my knowledge the only one of Raymond Jean's novels to be filmed so all credit to Michel and Rosalinde Deville for spotting the potential. It is the type of film generally referred to as being 'very French'. If by that is meant stylish, literate, well-constructed, tastefully erotic and caring more about character than plot then it certainly qualifies.

It is essentially about where reality finishes and fantasy begins as Constance the book lover and Marie the professional book reader, both played by the sensuous and enchanting Miou-Miou, call to mind very strongly William Styron's observation that 'one lives several lives while reading.'

The rather quirky clients who hire her to read aloud to them prefer subject matter that reflects their lives and predilections. The handsome young man confined by an accident to a wheelchair asks her to read one of Baudelaire's most erotic poems, one of six of his that were banned in 1857. The lonely businessman has a taste for pornography but has to settle for 'The Lover' of Duras although in his case Marie's actions speak louder than words. The general's widow loves the prose of Karl Marx(!?) whilst the magistrate has a penchant for de Sade's '120 Days of Sodom.' The expression on Marie's face when her eyes light upon the extract he has chosen is absolutely priceless.

As the businessman Patrick Chesnais picked up a César and in the cast are two splendid representatives of the 'old school' namely Pierre Dux as the magistrate and Maria Casares as the widow.

The Production Design and Art Direction are superb and Deville again utilises classical music to great effect. Here it is Beethoven who does the honours.

This piece is really to do with the power of words and how vital they are in both enriching the mind and unlocking the imagination. As such, alas, it is a voice crying in the wilderness to so many of the current generation who spend their waking hours glued to screens.

The basic virtue of this beautiful film is to preserve and use, in beautiful manner, all the flavors of the novel. The second, no doubts, Miou - Miou. But she can not be exactly surprising. A film about books and the adventures having the books as seeds. More precise, a film about freedom.

There's more than a little touch of Pirandello in the night about this entry in which a young woman, Constance, is not only reading a book entitled The Reader, to her husband in bed but also projects herself on to the eponymous character, Marie, and acts out either her own (Constance) fantasies or those of the fictional Marie or a combination of both. Given the task of carrying the film Miou-Miou is more than up to it and freshness is added by both the location, Arles, albeit little more than the picturesque narrow streets traversed by Marie between gigs, and the supporting cast, relatively unknown outside France though certainly well respected - especially Brigitte Catillon and Patrick Chesnais - within it. It's unquestionably a film that will divide opinion between those who will surrender to its whimsy, offbeat charm and dialogue and those who will denounce it as soft-porn with a press agent. As for me, I love Brigitte Catillon in anything.

I just rewatched this as I was converting it from my ancient cable taped vhs to dvd-r. Shinwa's comments describe this film about as well as one can in a capsule review. Or mabye I'm just becoming older and more curmudgeonly. The literary components seem like they were derived in the manner of Surrealist poetry-- chop up a bunch of sentences cut from books and magazines and pull them from a bag one at a time. Certainly there is no moral triumph taking place because Constance/Marie won't read Sade to a bunch of geezers. In fact, it's a cop-out to the "profession" she's field testing, kind of like a librarian not adding books to the collection because of personal bias. What I enjoyed most about this film is the soundtrack, and the wonderful settings. Love those old world cramped French streets and crumbling buildings with bad plumbing, which we see every time Constance goes trekking between appointments. Now if you want real French comedy, watch for Alexandre le bienheureux if it's ever released on video.

This is a slightly bizarre film, a bit like a pretentious European soft porno movie from the 1970ies, minus the sleaze. I have seen it before in a dubbed version, back when it first came out, and didn't get it -- the movie relies heavily on the original dialogue. This time I saw the French version, and, although I still can't say that I managed to penetrate into the story's every nook and cranny, I can testify that the dialogue is quite witty, the wit is farcical, and Miou-Miou is adequately sensual. And that's more than you can say for most movies these days. It won't make it into my personal list of desert island films, but I'm genuinely glad to have given it another go.