Eric Rohmer: A Life Making Films
By Joe Boden
14th January 2010
The cinema lost one of its few remaining legends this week; Eric Rohmer. The name is known if not renowned; he is credited as one of the forefathers of the French New Wave, one of the most important and famous movements in the history of film. Often playing second fiddle to the great Jean-Luc Godard (or third fiddle to Francois Truffaut… or fourth fiddle to Jean-Pierre Melville… and so on), Rohmer – despite the legacy that both the New Wave and he himself have left on cinema – is right on the boundary of being underappreciated. For me, he is perhaps the greatest of all directors, French or otherwise, and so the sad news of his passing at the age of eighty nine persuaded me to write a testament – not an obituary – to the man’s life and works.
Born in 1920 to Roman Catholic parents, a young Maurice Henri Joseph Scherer would go on to fashion his pseudonym after two of his favourite artists; director Erich von Stroheim and writer Sax Rohmer. Of course, Rohmer is famous for his exploits emulating the first of those two names, but he is also a published novelist. As part of the Cahiers du Cinema crowd, the editor no less, would be where Rohmer finally found his feet, his most famous creation being a study that he co-authored with Claude Chabrol on Alfred Hitchcock, which would later be called one of the most important film-related books since the second world war. The rest, as they say, is history.
Of course, Godard and Truffaut were the first of the mark; their respective debuts, “Breathless” (1959) and “The 400 Blows” (1959) catapulting these young French pretenders into the international eye. Rohmer himself would release a film in 1959 too, the really quite good but atypical “Signe du Lion”, which didn’t quite manage to create the same buzz as his Cahiers brothers’ own films. “Signe du Lion” sees Jess Hahn wander around the streets of Paris, hungry and alone. It’s a clinical yet emotional study of poverty and greed, yet it wouldn’t be for another decade before Rohmer would get the acclaim that he deserved. In this time, the director found time to create a darling series of shorts, which included the likes of “Veronique and her Dunce” (1958), “The Girl of the Monceau Bakery” (1963), “Suzanne’s Career” (1963), “Nadja a Paris” (1964), and “Changing Landscapes” (1964).
He also released “The Collector” (1967), which was the fourth instalment of the Six Moral Tales series. “The Girl of the Monceau Bakery” was the first with “Suzanne’s Career” being the second, but it was the third – which was actually released after the fourth – instalment of this series which would propel Rohmer into the public eye. “My Night With Maud” (1969) is a beautifully made film, taking a look at the idea of fidelity in the modern world (much like many of the films in this series) and interspersing it with philosophy, emotion, and romance. It earned Rohmer a nomination for Best Original Screenplay (it was beaten by “Patton”), and the film itself was recognized in the Best Foreign Film category. The director would round up the series with two more fine films; “Claire’s Knee” (1970) is a delicate and gentile romance that evokes the beauty of the south of France, whilst “Chloe in the Afternoon” (1972) is one of the greatest films that have ever been made.
I’ve gone on about “Chloe in the Afternoon” so many times in the past; it’s a perfect film. It shuns all of the conventions that Hollywood has taught us about the romantic drama (or comedy, I guess) in the past, and delivers this real film about two people who develop a bond over time. There is no sudden action; indeed, this affair (or non-affair) is constructed meticulously over an unspecified amount of time, and all the better for it. It’s the epitome of beauty, realism, and honesty, and the final moments are perhaps the most poignant and beautiful ever realized on film; Rohmer’s own feelings are finally made clear; an affair does not simply affect one man and one woman.
"Chloe in the Afternoon" (1972), Rohmer's masterpiece.
It’s a shame, then, that Rohmer would follow up what I call the best of his that I’ve seen with what I call the worst of his that I’ve seen; “The Marquise of O” (1976). Not a bad film by any means, this Bruno Ganz vehicle seems a little more languid and unsubstantial than the rest of Rohmer’s pictures, and although I wouldn’t exactly refuse a re-watch point blank, there’s at least twenty other Rohmer films I’d rather see instead. Two TV films (which I haven’t seen), and then Rohmer re-found his feet with “The Aviator’s Wife” (1981), a very good film with one incredible sequence (you know what I’m talking about), and “A Good Marriage” (1982). “Pauline at the Beach” (1983), one of his most acclaimed films, came next, which again saw Rohmer’s trademark eye for beauty mixed with his gentle philosophy, this time surrounding love and romance.
I reckon that this 1983 to 1986 sequence is perhaps the director’s most efficient. “Full Moon in Paris” (1984) is another five star classic, whilst “The Green Ray” (1986) would probably make my top five Rohmer too. Whilst “Full Moon in Paris” is a delicate, emotive, evocative study of the unfulfilment that often comes with romantic involvement, “The Green Ray” talks about the unfulfilment that often comes without it. This contrast may imply that Rohmer is somewhat of a nihilist, a non-believer when it comes to love, but we all know that that’s rubbish. Both films suggest that there is a perfect middle ground, and together they suggest that an unfulfilling relationship is just as damaging to a human being than the lack of a relationship altogether. “My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend” (1987) rounded up the wonderful “Comedies and Proverbs” series, which was made-up of the most previously discussed six films, and again Rohmer probes into the delicate inner-workings of love and romance.
“The Four Seasons” films came next, between 1982 and 1998, and this is the only of Rohmer’s series that I haven’t seen all of the films from. “A Winter’s Tale” (1982) and “Autumn Tale” (1998) are both excellent, though, with the latter possibly being the best film of Rohmer’s last ten active years. It’s perhaps the biggest (and most-often awarded) praise that you could give to Rohmer to say that he is probably the New Wave director with the most staying power. And it’s really true; whilst Godard has produced a couple of mildly acclaimed films in the just-passed decade and a series of very good ones in the eighties, you could very much argue that he has lost contact with the audience he never really cared for in the first place. Francois Truffaut’s untimely death stopped him from continuing into a new century, and Claude Chabrol’s thrillers are tinged with a little archaism that certainly works to their detriment. I guess the same could be said for Rohmer; he has continued to make similar films (at least in tone) for the past fifty years. However, his noughties output is perhaps the strongest, and perhaps the most in keeping with his changing audience.
“Triple Agent” (2004) is a spy thriller a la Rohmer. Replacing flying bullets with copious amounts of dialogue, the director strips away the conventional flab often associated with the subgenre and turns it into an intelligent and (I’m going to use that word again) delicate treatise on politics, prejudice, and propaganda. It’s also one of his most riveting films, propelling along at the highest pace you could expect from a Rohmer film to an unsavoury conclusion that will leave you just about devastated. His swansong came in 2007, in the form of “The Romance of Astree and Celadon”, which is a return to the films that he made back in the sixties and seventies and eighties. Matching the beauty of his settings with the beauty of his romance, the films is a joy to behold. He may not have the philosophy to match it, but it’s by no means a disgrace to the legacy that this great man will leave behind.
It’s his series work that he will be best known for; both the “Moral Tales” and the “Comedies and Proverbs” cycles go down as two of the best in the history of film, and his individual works aren’t too shabby either. He is an auteur in every sense of the word, putting his individual and quite original stamp on all of his work in a fashion that never fails to make an impression. Quentin Tarantino once said something like “you should see one Eric Rohmer film, just to see if you like it, and if you do you should search out the rest”. I couldn’t agree more; he’s hardly a director who will change your mind if you’ve already made it up, but if you – as I have been over the last couple of years – are moved by the honest beauty that lives within an Eric Rohmer film, this is one of the most efficient and effective oeuvres you could ever hope to come across.
As a further testament to the legend that was Eric Rohmer, check out my top 10 Rohmer films under this link.