The Right to Rohmer

There’s a very well known quote about Rohmer from the film Night Moves, which was trotted out when the French director died: “I saw a Rohmer film once. It was kind of like watching paint dry.” The line is spoken by a private eye who bases himself more on Chandler than Maigret, so you have to take it in context, but it’s probably a view more than a few  people share – and those people were happy to trot it out again on social media to mark Rohmer’s passing.

If you’re idea of an excellent night at the movies is a caper involving a caped superhero or two or a Hobbit facing down a CGI army of ugly Orcs (and nothing wrong with that), then maybe Rohmer’s rather gentle brand of film making, his stripped down style and intertitles, and lack of musical soundtrack, would certainly not be for you. Things do happen in Rohmer films, but they do tend to unfold over days or even months, and to some it will feel like it’s literally days or months. But for those of us who are fans, those slow story evolutions are what makes him great. It’s how life sometimes unfolds in reality. Not in quick movements, not in fluid leaps, but in gradual, painstaking, slow steps.

Best of all, there is always a payoff at the end. Michael Newton in The Guardian may have recently light-heartedly described The Green Ray (1986) as “Bridget Jones without the jokes (or calories)”, but for me, and I suspect dozens of other Rohmer enthusiasts, the final scene of that film is one which is just so satisfying, but which equally could be read in a number of ways. As singleton Delphine sits down to watch the sunset with a man she’s just met at the railway station, her witnessing of the ‘green flash’ and its truth telling properties, foretold in an obscure Jules Verne novel, becomes a moment of sheer magic. We have been so drawn into her story of sadness, loneliness, and isolation, that we are practically on the edge of our seats hoping beyond hope that the mysterious flash will be seen and this time it will be true love for Delphine and this clearly very attractive and sympathetic young man. Given her track record – and her endless yearning for a man she split up with before the film starts – you do have to wonder if in the longer term the relationship is doomed, but I tend to the positive, and will never forget that feeling of elation the first time I saw that ending. It’s never left me.

That for me is what makes Rohmer special. Yep, his films are talky (and if your French is poor you have to work hard to keep up with the speed of the subtitles). Yes, they have a literary feeling – like watching a novel at times – more Flaubert than Dumas. But at their best they have sacks of charm and a strong sense of humour – not least as we watch some character pontificate about what he or she clearly does not believe – but feels they have to say. That’s another great thing about Rohmer: that what his characters don’t say is as important as what they do say – and he’s adult enough to let us judge that for ourselves, and form our own conclusions

Which films would I recommend you start with? As a taster I’d suggest Richard Misek’s documentary Rohmer in Paris (whose Rohmer obsession started when he saw himself caught on camera in a Rohmer film). I confess I’ve still to catch up with several of Rohmer’s movies, but of those I know well, I’d say start with Ma nuit chez Maud from 1969, then Claire’s Knee from 1970. Rendezvous in Paris from 1995 is also intriguing, but my all time favourites are the Tales of the Four Seasons released between 1990 and 1998 – particularly The Winter’s Tale which very loosely follows Shakespeare’s story of lost love and redemption. And, of course, The Green Ray.

Don’t expect fireworks (except in Claire’s Knee which features a dance on July 14^th). Don’t expect to be able to hum the music. Most of the time their isn’t any. But do expect films made about people’s lives and loves and their frustrating foolishness. Their ability to tie themselves in moral knots. And their ability to grasp at the second chances life throws at them. Expect them to unfold slowly, bit by bit like a meal in a French restaurant. Above all, don’t take what someone is saying on face value. Above all, expect a resolution in each film which can surprise and frustrate by equal measures. The paint may take time to dry, but it’s immensely rewarding waiting for that to happen and for the whole picture to gently, ever so gently, unfold.

Nigel Lawrence