Biography: life and films
Of the French New Wave directors, Jacques Rivette is the one who is
least understood and most neglected. His Nouvelle Vague cohorts -
François Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol and Eric
Rohmer - are all better known and somewhat easier to define, partly
because their films have been more widely distributed, partly because
more has been written about them. Rivette is, by contrast, an
enigma, and he remains so even after you have watched many of his
films. More radical and daring than even that great film
innovator Jean-Luc Godard, Rivette was the most experimental and least
commercially minded of the Nouvelle Vague pack. He was not only
concerned with finding new means of cinematic expression, to explore
the wider artistic possibilities of cinema beyond the purely
commercial. He also sought to use cinema as a scientist
might use a microscope, to explore some of the profound mysteries of
human experience, in particular the nature of reality and our ability
to differentiate fact from fantasy. There is an inherently
metaphysical dimension to Rivette's cinema, a striving for truth which
goes way beyond a mere desire to extend the aesthetics of the medium.
The son of pharmacist, Jacques Rivette was born on 1st March 1928 at
Rouen, France. His love for cinema came at an early age and was
bolstered when he read Jean Cocteau's published diary of the filming of
La Belle et la bête.
He made his first film, a short, in 1949,
Aux quatre coins, just before he
began his studies at the Sorbonne in Paris. During his time at
university, he frequently attended a ciné-club in the rue Danton
of the Latin Quarter. It was here that he befriended Eric Rohmer,
with whom he created
La Gazette du
cinema, a short-lived film review paper, in 1950.
Compulsive film addicts, Rivette and Rohmer both set their sights on
making a career in film criticism. In 1951, they joined the staff
of the recently founded and highly influential
Cahiers du Cinéma, where
they met several other prominent young critics, some of whom (Jean-Luc
Godard, Claude Chabrol and François Truffaut) would, like them,
go on to become film directors and form the main contingent of the
French New Wave.
Jacques Rivette's first exposure to commercial filmmaking came when he worked
as a trainee assistant on Jean Renoir's
French
Cancan and Jacques Becker's
Ali Baba et les 40 voleurs in
1954. His Nouvelle Vague debut came with his 1956 short film
Le Coup du berger, which he shot in
Claude Chabrol's apartment. His first full-length film was
Paris nous appartient, made in
a haphazard, amateurish way over a two-year period, from 1958 to
1959. With its peregrinations through the streets of Paris, lack
of narrative structure and philosophical ramblings, the film provided
something of a template for the early films of the French New
Wave. Truffaut, Godard, Chabrol and Rohmer were all influenced by
this film.
Having served a two-year stint as editor on
Les Cahiers du cinéma,
Rivette made his second film in 1966. Adapted from a book by
Denis Diderot,
La Religieuse is, in cinematic
terms, the director's most conventional film, but it was also to be his
most controversial. Thought to be an insult to the Catholic
Church, the film was banned by the French Ministry of Information,
although the ban was fiercely contested by Rivette's supporters and it
premiered at the 1966 Cannes Film Festival. (Truffaut made a sly
reference to the ban in his film
Fahrenheit 451.) When the
censure was lifted in 1967, the film was released with an 18
certificate and attracted an audience of nearly three million.
When it received its international release, critics outside France
wondered what all the fuss was about.
The Nouvelle Vague's Craziest Experimentalist
After making a series of documentaries about the film director Jean
Renoir for French television, Jacques Rivette made his first great experimental
film,
L'Amour fou (1969). An
evocative portrait of a dying romance involving a director and his
muse, the film anticipates Bernardo Bertolucci's
Last Tango in Paris (1972) but
it has much deeper connotations. Taking his inspiration
from the avant-garde theatre director Marc'O (Marc-Gilbert Guillaumin)
and the growing trend in
cinéma
vérité, Rivette experiments with a range of
cinematic styles to show how art (in this case a production of a
Greek tragedy) is reflected in real life. The familiar notions of
subjectivity and objectivity are thrown into abeyance as the film
weaves together various interpretations of the same reality, the one
that Rivette films, and the alternative filmed by a TV film crew within
the film. The device of nested, inter-relating realities (the old
play within a play idea) and the intimate connection between life and
theatre are recurring motifs in Rivette's work.
L'Amour fou was Jacques Rivette's
first determined attempt to free himself from the constraints of
cinema, and thereby unleash the power that was contained in the most
flexible and potent of all the arts. The most limiting of these
constraints was the length of time that a film could be allowed to run
for. For purely commercial reasons, this had been set at
about two hours for the past three decades. However, from an
artistic perspective, there is no reason why a film should not last
five hours, or even fifty-five hours. Most people can comfortably
sit and watch six or seven hours of insipid television in an evening,
so why should they not view a single film of this length? Surely,
if cinema is an art form, the length of a film should be contingent on
the statement it has to make, and not on a notional number of
screenings it must have in a day in order to make a profit.
Rivette was one of the very few filmmakers since the silent era to not
let himself be tyrannised by the runtime constraint, which is why most
of his films are comfortably over the two hour limit. Who else
would even contemplate making a film that ran for more than twelve
hours?
Rivette's fourth film
Out One (a.k.a.
Out 1: Nolie me Tangere) (1971)
comes in at 12 hours and 40 minutes, easily the longest and most
experimental film of the French New Wave. (As the title suggets,
it was intended to be the antithesis of what was considered
In at the time.) Part
fiction, part documentary, this cinematic behemoth was inspired by
Balzac's
La Comédie humaine
and paints a gloomy and disorienting picture of a world that has lost
its ideals and risks become mired in violence and disillusionment in
the aftermath of the May 68 youth uprising. As in his previous
film, Rivette links modern life with Greek tragedy through characters
who are rehearsing Greek plays, as if to remind us of the immutability
of human behaviour across the centuries. It is a film which, with
its ragged composition and rejection of structure, questions the
validity of attempting to seek order in a chaotic universe. Cinema is
one way that man has invented to impose order on the world and give
structure and a sense of logic to a series of events. In
Out One, Rivette performs a kind of
inversion and uses cinema not to impose order but to make us aware of
the disorder that surrounds us and the folly of trying to look for
patterns that are not really there. For commercial reasons,
Rivette was obliged to make a cut down version of the film,
Out 1: Spectre (1974), which ran to
a mere three hours and 45 minutes, whilst retaining much of the essence
of the original film.
How Art and Dreams Relate to Life
After the
Out One experiment,
there is a gradual and very noticeable taming of Jacques Rivette's cinema, a slow
transition from the radical to the orthodox. This can be felt in
his in-between 1974 film
Céline et Julie vont en bateau,
which has the daring of Rivette's early films (some regard it as his
most innovative film) and the pleasing accessibility of his later, more
commercially minded films. As in Rivette's previous two films,
Céline et Julie vont en bateau
is an exploration of the illusory nature of reality. It involves
two women (memorably played by Juliet Berto and Dominique Labourier)
who become friends and start to experience a strange recurring dream,
in which they make repeated visits to an old house. In the end,
they visit the house for real in order to avert a tragedy. But
can it really be as simple as that? One of the odd things about
the film is the extent to which it appears to change on repeated
viewings, as if somehow the spectator's own experiences or state of
mind have the power to alter what is being projected onto the screen.
What
Céline et Julie vont en
bateau shows us that we may not be as adept at distinguishing
reality from imagination as we like to think. Even when we are
conscious, we continue to dream, so who is to say what is real and what
is not?
Jacques Rivette's next half a dozen or so films are something of a mixed bag,
lacking both the innovation of his early films and any real commercial
interest. The most interesting is
Le Pont du Nord (1982), a
completely plotless variation on the mystery-thriller theme which has
some superficial similarities to
Céline
et Julie vont en bateau, once again dispelling the myth that our
lives can have any objective reality. Rivette's next significant
film was
La Belle Noiseuse (1991), his
most widely acclaimed work and winner of the Jury Grand Prize at the
Festival de Cannes. Its languorous pace and four hour runtime
does not prevent it from being the most satisfying and absorbing of
Rivette's films (although the director did later release a cut-down two
hour version to keep the distributors happy). One of cinema's
most spellbinding and insightful explorations of the creative process,
the film is also a haunting study in the psychology of an artist.
The sophistication of Rivette's mise-en-scène is well-matched by
the faultless performances from his three lead actors, Emmanuelle
Béart, Michel Piccoli and Jane Birkin.
Love is Comedy, Love is Tragedy
La Belle Noiseuse is arguably
Jacques Rivette's masterpiece, although his subsequent Joan of Arc diptych
Jeanne la Pucelle (1994) is a
comparable achievement. Far less showy and action-oriented
than most French historical films of the period, Rivette's two-part
film holds our attention because it focuses less on historical events
and more on Joan of Arc's inner transformation, from simple farm girl
to intrepid warrior. Again, it is not the objective reality that
interests Rivette, but the subjective experience, the inner world of
his heroine - in particular, the conflict between her driven resolve to
fulfil her divine calling and her very natural girly anxieties.
Sandrine Bonnaire gives a superbly nuanced performance as the eponymous
maid of Orleans, as she would do in Rivette's subsequent
Secret
défense (1998), the director's one and only foray
into film noir thriller territory.
Following the lively comedy
Va savoir (2001), a homage to
Jean Renoir's
Le Carrosse d'or (1953),
Jacques Rivette's cinema has taken on a much darker hue - more
introspective, less stylised, more conventional. An unsettling
ghost story,
Histoire de Marie et Julien
(2003) is yet another attempt to merge fantasy and reality and is,
thorough Emmanuelle Béart's extraordinarily intense performance,
one of Rivette's bleakest and most lyrical films.
Ne touchez pas la hache (2007)
is one of the director's more inspired literary adaptations (far more
palatable than his previous attempt at
Wuthering Heights), a sombre
portrait of impossible love, beautifully played by Jeanne Balibar and
Guillaume Depardieu. In what was to be his final film,
36 vues du Pic Saint-Loup
(2009), Rivette revisits some of the themes of his earlier work
(notably the connection between art and life) and delivers an enjoyable
concoction of road movie and rom-com. The onset of Alzheimer's disease
brought a definitive end to Jacques Rivette's filmmaking career and resulted in
his death at the age of 87 on 29th January 2016. Through
his influence on today's auteur filmmakers the spirit of the French New Wave
remains very much alive.
© James Travers 2012
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