Madame de... (Max Ophüls, 1953)

Okay, what the hell? Is this some sort of tease, does Max Ophüls want me to give up all hope for contemporary cinema? Why doesn’t filmmakers make films like this anymore, this is as close you can get to pure cinema and still have a strong narrative intact. This is epic, visionary, beautiful, poignant, and all other words that mean some sort of euphoria. This film sums up everything Max Ophül’s cinema is about, and at the same time avoids any form of pretentiousness.

This is a story about some earrings, belonging to Madame de, given to her by her husband as a wedding present, but she doesn’t care too much for them, and decide to pawn them off. Then all goes to hell. That is as much as I am about to say about the story, but, what is important here is the brilliant progression of the story, which at the end concludes everything perfectly. This film captures life, in so many ways, that one is inclined to feel that there couldn’t be anything more beyond the film. Peoples relationship with each other, the world around them and objects is studied carefully, and the setting is perfect for this, the typical turn of the century upper-class setting that Ophüls loved so much. Lavish sets and costumes are part of this film, and they have never looked better in the beautiful black and white cinematography, damn colour! But, I’ve already talked too much about the cinematography of Ophüls, already in two reviews, so why continue the same discussion? Well, here he actually takes it to another level! The opening take is a gorgeous tracking shot, and this style continues throughout the whole film, it is so damn impressive, I have a loss of words for the excitement I feel when watching an Ophüls film.

The cast is great, particularly the actress playing Madame de and her husband are very enjoyable to watch. The relationship between the two characters is built up throughout the whole film, and setting them in the upper-class environment is at times hilarious, for example when the wife pretends she has lost her earrings, and the husband, in all his military clothing, goes around an opera looking for them, creating mass confusion. The same sardonic humour and cynicism from La Ronde returns gloriously in this film, and at times the parody and hypocrisy of the upper-class is hilarious. This criticism, though, isn’t overbearing but sharp and witty. Criticism of the upper-class too often becomes bitter and boring, while this film just has a good laugh at the lot of them. Comedy done well, something we don’t see too often. Anyway, this is Max Ophül’s best film, without a doubt. It has all the subtle gestures and visionary camerawork that has become so normal in his films, but while La Ronde was damn impressive in itself, Ophüls actually had the guts to take that further and improve his style, and it is gloriously realised in this film.

Yeah, I know I am hyping this film a lot, but it is THAT good, and deserves all the praise it can get. It is the height of Ophüls power, and one of his last films. I think he made two more films, but a large part of his work hasn’t been released on DVD, so damn if I know how good they actually are. If they are released, though, on DVD, I will definitely get them, because this director demands you explore his work. Fantastic!

Le plaisir (Max Ophüls, 1952)

So, the second of Ophüls French escapades, Le plaisir was made two years after La Ronde, and is in many ways in the same spirit, dealing with many of the same themes, although, I felt, it didn’t quite try to reach as far as La Ronde. But it is pretty much as delightful as La Ronde, and the same style works fine for a second time, hell, I could watch a hundred of these films and not get bored, Ophül’s style is impeccable.

Le plaisir follows in many ways in the footsteps of La Ronde. It has that fragmented storytelling and also the same stylistics as La Ronde. Le plaisir, though, is not connected in such a way as La Ronde, but is rather three different short films connected together. Well, the first and third are fairly short, the middle one is almost as long as a feature, so it is more like a sandwich, in a weird way. These stories are slightly less cynical than the ones from La Ronde, and are much more heartfelt, being uplifting instead of dark and sardonic. But much of the humour has been kept, and the distanced camera is still apparent. The first is about an old man who puts on a mask so he can go out to dance and party with the beautiful and sophisticated, the second is about a group of prostitutes who take a trip out to the country, and the third is about a painter. Particularly enjoyable in the second is the scenes where the brothel has been closed without warning, and all the men walk around at night without knowing what to do, now that the local “entertainment” is gone, for the night anyway, and the streets almost burst out into fighting. This story is the strongest, although the other two are really enjoyable, they are short, the first being the best of the shorter ones, and is one of the finest short films I’ve seen.

Ophüls stretches his imagination and vision even further here, and some of the camerawork is simply astonishing, particularly in the first act. The black and white, again, looks gorgeous, and the country side part of the second act are particularly beautiful, filled with peace and serenity, in contrast to the dark tones of the city. The Brechtian overtones are here again, but hey, what else do you expect from a filmmaker who worked as a director in theatre in Germany during the 1920’s? It is not as apparent here as in La Ronde, but the traces are still there, particularly the style and setting which mirrors much of the one in Brecht’s plays. Overall though, I didn’t find this as interesting or coherent as La Ronde. It was still very enjoyable, and shared many of the same strengths as La Ronde, but the fractured style didn’t work as well for me as in the previously mentioned film. Then again, you can’t really go wrong with Ophüls, and this is another testament to his incredible visual talent. The long takes are, perhaps, even more impressive here than in La Ronde, and more visionary and epic. The first act is just brilliant cinema.

Check it out, but La Ronde is better, in my opinion, and a better starting point. Well, Letter from an Unknown Woman is probably the best starting point if you want to check out Ophüls, but hell, all his films are great!

La Ronde (Max Opüls, 1950)

I’ve been very curious about the French work of Max Ophüls, after he left Hollywood. He did make some fine films in the states, particularly Letter from an Unknown Woman, but I imagined, and I was right, that he would have even more liberties with the films he made in France, outside the constraints of the censor. Criterion released three of the films Ophüls made in France, and this was the first one of those releases. And, yeah, it’s great.

The film opens with a scene that is absurdly Brechtian, narrated by the wonderful Anton Walbrook as he walks through different sets, very cinematically, and talking about the story that is about to unfold. Brechtian cinema can be both great and horrible, depending on how it is handled, and here it is extraordinary. Ophül’s use of Brechtian techniques in his American films was already apparent, but quite a bit more subtle. These techniques are clearer in La Ronde, but the way they from the start take centre-stage is great, and it doesn’t become an overburden, as it so often is inclined to. Anyway, the film doesn’t have a story of sorts, rather, let me explain this, it follows people as they sleep with each other. The film starts out with a prostitute, who sleeps with a soldier, we then follow him, he sleeps with some girl, we then follow her and so on it goes, until the last person sleeps with the prostitute from the beginning of the film. It is a nice tool the film uses to cover a lot of ground, about several different people and levels of society. Ophüls, of course, loves to explore the upper class and all its facets, and while he is quite critical of these people, he also manages to remain coldly distanced. My favourite part is some rich brat teenager who sleeps with the maid, it is actually a hilarious and sardonic scene when he tries to court her.

The more I watch these kinds of films, the more I course the fact that they invented colour film, because the crisp black and white in this looks absolutely gorgeous. Ophül’s sense of pacing and framing is spot on here, and his long takes, well, the opening scene I earlier described was just one long take, are fantastic, and he was an important inspiration for Stanley Kubrick, and it shows. But this is more than technical showings, because every shot in Ophül’s films are very significant, Letter from and Unknown Woman has so many layers, subtexts and clever camerawork it is insanely complex. I didn’t get as much time to look deeply into La Ronde, but believe me, this is even more complex, and believe me when I say that I was able to write a 2,500 word essay one just one 10-minute scene from Letter From an Unknown Woman, and with ease. So yeah, there is a lot to pick up in his films. Ophüls was one of those great German Hollywood directors who perfected his craft in Hollywood after escaping from Nazi Germany. But I believe, though all the frustration he had with the Hollywood system, that he gained a lot from it. I allowed him, or rather forced him, to make his works more subtle, apply crafty subtext, and such. As a director it brought him to maturity in many ways, although the road might have been arduous.

Great film, fantastic, I love the style, the setting, the narrative, the Brechtian techniques, and the wonderful cinematography. It is really a step further stylistically, but Ophüls avoids the traps of style, and creates a deeply profound film about life in so many ways. Style can be so many things, and is usually overexposed and overused by directors, particularly today, but Ophüls doesn’t miss his mark, and this is a masterpiece.