Lady Chatterley (2006)
Directed by Pascale Ferran

Film Review

Pascale Ferran brings a uniquely feminine sensitivity to this daring adaptation of D.H. Lawrence's novel John Thomas and Lady Jane, the second and arguably best version of his controversial Lady Chatterley's Lover.  In contrast to many previous tellings of this familiar story of sexual reawakening, this one is most definitely seen from the perspective of the central heroine.  This is crucial because the story is fundamentally about Lady Chatterley's experience of physical and spiritual rebirth, her rediscovery of the joys of living through an illicit sexual encounter and not, as is it sometimes presented, a tale of conscious infidelity that is prosecuted merely to gratify an urge that her crippled husband cannot satisfy.  This is presumably how Lawrence intended his novel to be read and, if so, he would have been immensely gratified by this film, which is probably the most faithful screen adaptation of his novels to date (even if the dialogue is entirely in French and the setting is a poor approximation to an English mining town).

Remarkably, given the maturity and sophistication shown in this film, Lady Chatterley is only the third full full-length film to be directed by Pascale Ferran.  She won acclaim for her first two features, Petits arrangements avec les morts (1994) and L'Âge des possibles (1995), but has been curiously absent from the world of cinema for the past decade.   Lady Chatterley represents a remarkable return for a relatively unknown filmmaker who, from what we see here, clearly has much more to contribute to French cinema.  The film was hailed at the Césars in 2007, being nominated for nine awards and winning five, in the categories: Best Film, Best Actress (Marina Hands), Best Adaptation, Best Cinematography and Best Costumes.

The main reason why this film is so effective, and so compelling (despite its daunting two and half hour runtime), is because it focuses our attention on the relationship that is at the heart of the novel, that between Constance Chatterley and the gamekeeper (here named Parkin).  Other characters are barely developed and even Constance's crippled husband (superbly played by Hippolyte Girardot) is little more than a dramatic foil, not someone we can claim to know having watched the film.  With a Rohmer-esque minimalism, the film concerns itself only with how Constance and Parkin meet, fall in love and discover that they cannot live apart.   All other plot developments are compressed (often with a brief descriptive caption) or eliminated altogether.

What is most interesting about this film is how Constance and Parkin are presented.  At the outset, neither character has any outward sign of sexuality and there us nothing to suggest they are intended for one another.  Constance is seemingly as starched and repressed as her prim Bourgeois petticoats and bonnets; the lowly Parkin has little more charisma and joie de vivre than a dull middle-aged bank clerk.  Yet the ice soon thaws and Constance and Parkin's true natures slowly begin to emerge.  They realise that they each share a common need and from the first glimmerings of their mutual attraction, love begins to blossom.  Animal lust is what brings them together, but this is merely the catalyst for something profound and wonderful that ultimately makes it impossible for them to separate.   Through Pasacle Ferran's deft direction and the appropriately modest performances from Marina Hands and Jean-Louis Coullo'ch, this Lady Chatterley captures precisely the poignancy and immutable truth that Lawrence strived to convey in his great novel.

Film Synopsis

England, 1921.   Lady Constance Chatterley is a prisoner in a dead, passionless marriage.  She is still devoted to her husband, Clifford, now a ruin of a man, paralysed by the injuries he sustained on the Flanders battlefields.  But a part of her, that most wondrous part of her femininity, has died.  Or so she thinks.  Whilst exploring her husband's vast country estate she comes across Parkin, the gamekeeper, just as he is bathing.  The meeting awakens something deep within Constance, the shadow of a desire she had almost forgotten.   Parkin is equally drawn to her, and the inevitable happens...