Film Review
"A country that wants to be free is
already free." It's a great line and one that you would
expect to hear in a film that is a naked allegory of the state of
France under Nazi occupation.
Patrie,
the film in question, originates from a much earlier work, a stage play
of the same title written in 1869 by the celebrated French playwright
Victorien Sardou. With its account of a Flemish revolt against
Spanish rule in the late 16th century, Sardou's play would almost
certainly have had a powerful resonance for a nation that had just been
released from the yoke of Nazi tyranny. Skilfully adapted by
Charles Spaak, Louis Daquin and Pierre Bost, the play does far more
than draw parallels between two historical events; it also becomes an
incitement to punish traitors, and thereby a flagant justification for
the anti-collaborationist purge that blazed across France immediately
after the Liberation. Even the film's title has an ironic edge to
it, mocking the glib mantra of the Vichy government:
Travail, famille, patrie.
Actively involved in the Resistance in the latter years of the
Occupation, Louis Daquin resumed his filmmaking career after the war by
making some short films for the Communist Party before embarking on
what was to be his most ambitious film. Despite the scarcity of
resources (film stock, electricity and building materials were all
severely rationed in France after the war), Daquin managed to craft a
lavish period piece which hardly looks as if it was filmed in a
studio. Daquin's flair for realism - revealed in his two previous
noteworthy films
Nous les gosses (1941) and
Premier de cordée (1944)
- gives
Patrie a biting
authenticity that steers it well away from full-blown melodrama.
Nicolas Hayer's moody cinematography heightens the drama throughout and
brings a stark reality to the film's grim final sequences. The
film makes an interesting contrast with Jacques Feyder's
La Kermesse héroïque
(1935), which deals with the Flemish revolt in a more light-hearted
vain.
It is fitting that the hero of the piece - the leader of the uprising
against the occupying power - should be played by Pierre Blanchar, as
the actor was later revealed to have served with honour in the French
Resistance. Blanchar has a natural air of nobility and
incorruptibility that make him the ideal casting choice for the part of
the doomed Count Rysoor. (After this film, Blanchar would play a
similar self-sacrificing hero in
Bataillon
du ciel (1947), one that was closely modelled on a real
combattant of the Liberation.) First revealed in Daquin's
Le Voyageur de la Toussaint
(1943), Jean Desailly reaffirms his talent as Blanchar's flawed
lieutenant Karloo, a weak and indecisive character that seems to embody
the
attentiste mentality of
the majority of the French population during the war. By
contrast, Maria Mauban's calculating Countess de Rysoor is an
unequivocal collaborator who gets what she deserves, once Desailly's
Karloo has found the moral courage to act and put duty before
desire. After this, Daquin made one other notable film,
Le Point du jour (1949), but
subsequently had difficulty finding backing for his films and faded
gently into obscurity.
Patrie
is probably the closest he came to making an outright masterpiece.
© James Travers 2015
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
Flanders in the late 16th century. With his country under
occupation by the armies of the King of Spain, the nobleman Count
Rysoor enters into a pact with William of Orange to lead a revolt that
will free his people from Spanish rule. On the eve of the
uprising, Rysoor discovers to his horror that his young wife Elizabeth
has been having a clandestine affair with his loyal lieutenant,
Karloo. Fearing that her lover will be killed in the impending
battle, Elizabeth betrays her husband by revealing his scheme to the
Duke d'Albe, the town's governor. Rysoor is duly arrested, along
with his fellow conspirators, but Karloo is spared at Elizabeth's
insistence. Before his execution, Rysoor gets Karloo to swear to
avenge his betrayal...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.