I’ll beat Leo to the punch and say the print is quite lovely Teddy, especially the latter half.
by Jenny Jediny | Source: Janus Films 35MM Theatrical Print
14 Nov 2006 3:27 PM | Comments (5)
Yes, it is. There, I said it.
Actually, while I don’t wish to be a stick in the mud, this is presumably the same restoration as the Criterion DVD, so I can’t say I was particularly shocked to discover its loveliness. But the fact that the film exists at all is a minor miracle, so I’m not complaining.
I viewed this for the first time last night and was most disappointed. Perhaps if it did not have the reputation as “the finest film ever made” I might have expected less. Visually there wasn’t much to hold continued interest though, obviously, thematically, the disintergration of the old French aristocracy as handled by Renoir, was amusing. Frankly I was far more amused by Merchant/Ivory’s ‘Savages’ and Gilliam’s ‘Brazil’, where the disintergration of sohpisticated cultures are given highly satiric treatments. As far as the slapstick goes, I’ll take any of Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd or Chaplin classics over this. Bergman’s ‘Smiles of A Summer Night’ made more of an impression of a decaying upper class combining the same elements of comedy and pathos than Renoir’s ‘Rules’. There’s a moment in ‘Rules’ when Marceau tells Octave, played by Renoir himself, that he is a poet. However, there’s little poetry in the film to my mind. Renoir’s ‘Grand Illusion’, on the other hand, covers much of the same ground, though it deals with the aftermath of WWII, but comes much closer to a kind of visual poetry than this drawing room romp.
-Tyree
Sacré bleu!
I have to agree that I’ve never been blown away by this film either, but then nor have I been blown away by almost any “greatest film ever made” since I saw Citizen Kane in high school (and even that was probably just bewilderment at the fact that something that sounded so boring in the synopsis was so downright trippy).
But I think most people attribute their love for this film to Renoir’s endless patience and love for his characters, even as he chastises them for their effete, apathetic natures. The kind of overt satire that works so well in Savages (need to see that one again!) would be totally out of place in Renoir’s work, which approaches its subject with a great deal of equanimity.
Critics also like to point out the innovation of the type of film Renoir was making, an ensemble (and very theatrical) work that effortlessly sketches about a dozen different characters in a way that would greatly influence (most obviously) Welles and Altman, amongst many others. Sure, Lubitsch did a lot of the same kind of thing, but the crucial difference (at least for Bazin) was Renoir’s use of deep focus and lengthy shots with a great deal of camera movement.
But this is probably not news to anyone, so forgive me for rehearsing if I’m rehearsing the obvious. It becomes harder and harder to recoup the initial interest and innovation of seminal films like this, and I think it’s important to question their placement within the so-called Canon. But then, sometimes one man’s greatest film ever made is another man’s drawing room romp, charming, but uncompelling.
Well, I guess I’ll chime in just because this happens to be one of my favourite films. I’ll admit I wasn’t blown away by this when I first saw it, but it has grown on me immensely since then. As Leo mentioned, any film that is mounted firmly in the canon usually suffers due to the high expectations that follow such praise and they often feel mediocre in comparison to the films we already hold in high regard.
However, what I’ve come to appreciate about Rules of the Game is that it’s comfortable in conveying its social criticisms and refined farce at around a 7 or 8, when other films feel the need to ratchet up their delivery to 11. Renoir is content to use framing and motion as modestly and discreetly as possible and doesn’t really need to draw attention to his methods.
I love Brazil, but it’s far more bold and blatant in its tactics. Though I’m fond of Keaton, Lloyd, and Chaplin, they employ an entirely different scheme of slapstick that’s much more explicit.
Rules feels like a humble symphony that I always return to when I just want to pass the time in a worthwhile way, knowing the composer isn’t interested in slapping me in the face with his genius. It’s also the film I get a hankering for whenever I watch Dazed and Confused or Jackie Brown. I can’t really explain that last part, other than the fact that each film feels like the director is comfortable just making the best film he possibly could, without worrying about any future acclaim (or derision in the case of Jackie Brown).
Also, as far as approaching films in “The Canon,” I’ve always found it helpful to approach famous films by using Krusty the Clowns viewpoint on talking to the audience. To paraphrase my favourite clown:
Now for my favourite part of watching movies….What does that say? Watching films in the canon! Ugghhh, this is always death.
I’ve found it’s always better to lower expectations of the films generally regarded as masterpieces.
leo
14 November 2006
1:02 PM
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