Film Review
In the course of eight films over fifteen years, Emmanuel Mouret has matured
into an auteur filmmaker of virtually unrivalled charm and versatility.
His films - which range from the exuberant juvenile farce
Laissons Lucie faire (2000)
to the sophisticated comedy of manners
Fais-moi plaisir (2009) - may
be wordy and narrow in scope (focused on the emotional dramas of two or three
characters) but they are never dull and, thanks to Mouret's exceptional screenwriting
ability, they show an understanding of the human condition that is as compassionate
as it is profound. Now, with his ninth feature
Mademoiselle de Joncquières,
Mouret has reached the pinnacle of his art, serving up a confident and totally
irresistible foray into period drama that has a more than passing resemblance
to Choderlos de Laclos's novel
Les Liaisons dangereuses (or at least
the lavish
Stephen Frears adaptation).
Mouret takes his inspiration not from de Laclos but from a story that Denis
Diderot included in his famous 1784 novel
Jacques le Fataliste - a
tale of calculated revenge concocted by a beautiful widow to humiliate the
libertine lover who grew cold on her. The same story provided the basis
for Robert Bresson's 1945 film
Les Dames du bois de Boulogne,
although this is a much darker work, its more cynical handling of the revenge
story reflecting the mood of pessimism that prevailed in France after the
Occupation. By contrast, Mouret's adaptation is lighter in tone and
makes the two main characters - the vengeful widow Madame de La Pommeraye
and her womanising victim the Marquis des Arcis - out to be individuals of
a far more complex and fragile nature, both tragically susceptible to the
snares and chicanery of amorous infatuation.
In Cécile de France and Édouard Baer, Mouret has two superlative
lead performers who are extraordinarily well suited to the roles of the scheming
widow and her object of love and loathing. Their charismatic presence
has lifted many a lacklustre film over the past few decades but here, supplied
with an intelligently crafted script worthy of their talents, both actors
impress as they have rarely done before. The subtlety of Mouret's writing
is matched by the subtlety of their acting and for once the power of the
author's mastery of language is felt with the full force of a tsunami.
In a remarkably nuanced performance, de France convinces us that her character's
vengeance is the product not of malice but of genuine inner pain, the wound
that continues to fester when love has died. Sympathetic as ever, Baer
likewise reveals his character to be no heartless libertine, but a hopelessly
brittle man aching for the love that will redeem him and bring meaning to
his empty existence.
The delicate disconnection between the words that are uttered and the sentiments
they convey teases us constantly, and this is the mechanism by which we gain
an insight into the true nature of the protagonists, fragile souls forced
to perform as marionettes in the cruellest of puppet shows. For all
his compassion, Mouret spares us none of the emotional upset that the callous
intrigue engenders and he persists with his moral with a merciless intent.
In the end we are left in no doubt, that to inflict pain on a fellow creature
by manipulating his or her inner feelings is a far nastier form of vengeance
than any physical blow that may be inflicted on the body.
To date, writing is the domain in which Emmanuel Mouret has most excelled.
His direction has never lacked inspiration but it has by and large tended
to be of a conventional character, sufficient to the task of servicing the
script and obtaining the best performances from his cast.
Mademoiselle
de Joncquières marks a significant progression in Mouret's development
as a filmmaker, with the director using the camera more imaginatively and
with greater freedom than he has ever done before. The sumptuously
verdant exteriors and elegantly framed interiors are not only richly evocative
of the milieu and era in which the story takes place - enlightenment France,
an age free thinking and free love bound by tight social conventions.
They also provide a suitably misleading backdrop, their apparent calm and
mathematical orderliness belying the emotional turmoil that is fermenting
just beneath the surface.
Just as the calculating Madame de La Pommeraye seeks to deceive her ex-lover
with softly spoken words to guide him towards a fitting humiliation, so the
film's painterly composition sets out to trick us into thinking that the
gentle game of deception and manipulation is far less damaging than it really
is. All may be fair and love and war but the cost of either hardly
seems to be worth it - at least that is the impression that Emmanuel Mouret
hammers into your heart as you thirstily imbibe his most accomplished film
yet.
© James Travers 2019
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
France, in the mid-1700s. After the death of her husband, Madame de
La Pommeraye lives a secluded life at her large country estate. Although
she is still young and beautiful, she has lost her appetite for love - until
she encounters the handsome Marquis des Arcis, a notorious libertine who
delights in his feminine conquests. How easily does the young widow
succumb to the Marquis's demonic powers of seduction. For once in her
life, she discovers true happiness, but within a few short years she realises
that her beau idéal has begun to lose interest in her.
A proud and vengeful woman, Madame de La Pommeraye cannot bear her lover's
rejection of her with a noble heart. Instead, she contrives a cruel
scheme which, she is sure, will reward the Marquis's infidelity with a well-deserved
humiliation. The instrument of her revenge will be the delicate Mademoiselle
de Joncquières who, like her mother, has fallen on hard times and
now leads the life of a high-class prostitute to evade penury. The
Marquis knows nothing of the unfortunate mademoiselle's shady past and is
easily won over by her charm and beauty. His enemy watches in delight
as he falls into the carefully laid trap which will surely ruin his life
forever...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.