THE RULES OF THE GAME (1939)

Years ago in an online film discussion group, one member (the moderator, of all people) accused anyone who said they actually liked CITIZEN KANE, as I had just proclaimed a couple of days earlier, of simply buying into the high critical hype. In other words, I was brainwashed by the critics into thinking KANE was a great movie. I replied that I had first seen the movie in college in the mid-70s and, though I was conscious of the film's reputation, I was absolutely mesmerized by it during that film society showing. Its script, performances, cinematography and direction are all of the highest order, and it's historically important for ushering in a lot of interesting stylistic devices, but I genuinely loved watching the movie because above and beyond its "importance," it's a very entertaining movie. This French film made by Jean Renoir just two years before KANE was a flop on its initial release—and eventually banned in France for potential to incite immoral behavior (it's all about unpunished adulterous carryings-on). It has gained a sterling reputation in recent years and has been cited in some critics polls as second only to KANE in its greatness. I watched this movie three times over the years and, while I can appreciate Renoir's visual style and the construction of the narrative, I'm left feeling rather cold toward it, which may partly be Renoir's intention. At heart, it's a brittle comedy of manners which occasionally put me in mind of Ingmar Bergman's SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT. But the lack of sympathetic characters and the chill that permeates it all keeps me at a distance from it. I'd never accuse people who like this of liking it only because it's critically acclaimed, but I'm guessing how I feel about this is like how my online friend felt about KANE.

André is a renowned pilot who has just landed in France to much acclaim after having crossed the Atlantic in 23 hours. Despite the brouhaha, he is depressed because his mistress Christine, the woman who inspired his flight, isn't there to greet him, and he tells his radio audience so. We soon see that she is at home with her husband Robert who is aware of her past relationship with the pilot, and forgiving, perhaps because he is having an affair with Genevieve. Octave, a buddy of André's, loves Christine like a sister and is tired of hearing André go on about her. Robert and Christine throw a weekend party at La Colinière, their country estate and through some finagling, André, Octave and Genevieve are all invited. Also present are Lisette, Christine's maid who is devoted to Christine, and Lisette's husband Edouard, gamekeeper at La Colinière. Because they rarely see each other, Lisette wants him to leave his job, but he thinks she's the one who should give up her job. Though a rabbit hunt is a major part of the weekend, Robert gets irritated over the amount of surplus rabbits on the grounds, and he winds up hiring Marceau, a poacher, as a servant, who decides to flirt with Lisette. With a masked ball and staged entertainment being held on Sunday night, the stage is set for a weekend of food, gossip, hunting, and romantic escapades which eventually turns tragic.

Some viewers notice that GOSFORD PARK bears a certain surface resemblance to this film. Both use their stories to examine the morality of the upper class and the servant class, in this case as the tensions that caused WWII were building. As you might guess, no one of either class comes out looking very good, though the lengthy and explicit rabbit and pheasant hunting scene, with real animals killed and left twitching on the ground, is surely a particular indictment of the upper class hunters (who, however, would not be able to do their killing without the assistance of the servant class). The movie's tone is not tragic, even at the climax when someone is killed, but neither is it very funny, though witticisms fly. A party guest says that love in society "is merely the mingling of two whims and the contact of two skins." Octave, played by the director, philosophizes that the awful thing about life is that “everyone has their reasons.” The chef, complaining about a guest's very specific need for sea salt only, says "Diets I can accept but not obsessions." Christine, about André while clearing the air with Robert: "Sincere people are such bores." I enjoyed the film but can't join its more fervent fans. I think it's important for its style: lots of long shots and tracking shots and deep focus. The acting is fine (Marcel Dalio (pictured), with weirdly artificial eyebrows, as Robert, and Renoir himself are standouts) and I love the use of the Danse Macabre in the party scene. But for me it never felt compelling, either in terms of story or characters. [TCM]