Louisa McDonald

In Arthur Penn’s 1975 film ‘Night Moves’, Gene Hackman’s character, when asked by his wife if he would like to go and see an Éric Rohmer film, famously responds, “I don’t think so. I saw a Rohmer film once; it was kind of like watching paint dry.” Although it is true that Rohmer’s works are a far cry from the fast-paced, action-packed screenplays of many modern Hollywood films, the seeming lack of action is arguably an expression of the subtle attention to detail that helps the films achieve a sense of realism that is difficult to find elsewhere. In particular, in the series of six films entitled ‘Comédies et Proverbes’ (Comedies and Proverbs), Rohmer explores narratives which are, at first glance, not particularly dramatic in nature – the main plot point of ‘Les Nuits de la Pleine Lune’ (English Title: ‘Full Moon in Paris’) involved a woman deciding to acquire a second apartment in Paris – but it is this focus on subtlety that makes the films fascinating and amusing reflections on the complexities of human emotions and experience. Rather than relying on stylised violence or constant dramatic plot twists, Rohmer demonstrates how cinema gives us an opportunity to outwardly reflect the subtleties of the inner lives of ordinary people, and how the objectivity provided by the cinematic lens allows us to constantly relate the human world back to the material world, a world which is equally symbolic and important.

As the title would suggest, at the beginning of each film in the series is a proverb, which is presumably supposed to capture the essence of each film. Yet, paradoxically, Rohmer’s cinema focuses on the elements of the real which language is unable to capture; the subtle gestures of everyday life which only film is able to accurately portray. Take, for instance, the proverb at the beginning of ‘Pauline à la Plage’ (‘Pauline at the Beach’): : ‘Qui trop parole, il se mesfait" ("A wagging tongue bites itself"); although the film itself is heavy on dialogue, featuring lengthy discussions about love and desire, the proverb undermines the potency of language to put such feelings into words, and encourages the viewer to mistrust the lengthy assertions made by the characters in the film, inviting them instead to observe and judge for themselves. More generally, whilst the ‘Comédies et Proverbes’ are, by the standards of modern film, relatively heavy on dialogue, it is the non-verbal aspects of the films which mark out the style as distinct to Rohmer; it is a cinema of gestures, of symbols. Take, for instance, the central focus of ‘Le Rayon Vert’ (‘The Green Ray’), which is an optical illusion caused by the setting sun that, in the words of Jules Verne, makes one capable of seeing into one’s own heart and into the hearts of others1; the end of the film is marked not by dialogue, but by a shared appreciation for that which cannot be expressed through words, as the protagonist, Delphine, who is reaching the end of a lonely and frustrated holiday, along with a young man she has just met, finally observe the optical illusion that has been discussed throughout the film and experience a shared sense of wonder. Another example of Rohmer’s use of non-verbal communication is highlighted by Aimée Isreal-Pelletier: in ‘Le Beau Mariage’ (‘An Good Marriage’), when Edmond, a lawyer whom the young Sabine has been trying to court, pulls his chair closer to the young woman to tell her that he is not available, such a scene gets us “to understand a feeling of a thought that is not translatable in language”.2

1. Sabine (left) waits for Antoine outside his office in 'Le Beau Mariage'

In this way, Rohmer creates a sense of realism through focusing on the subtle symbols and gestures which make up so much of our communication, and yet are not translatable into language. Yet just as crucial to the style of his films is the importance given to the material features that do not necessarily belong to the social world, yet which undoubtedly work to shape it. We can begin to understand this through a view of cinema as uniquely conveying a sense of objectivity, which other art forms, such as novels, may not be able to do; whilst a novel is limited by the perspective from which it is written, a film, which necessarily assumes the optical perspective of the outside observer, is arguably able to give an image of reality which is not so dependent on the human subject. As argued by Tom Gunning:

“The realism upon which Bazin and Rohmer found their ideal of cinema unmoors this new art form from the traditionally assumed centrality of the human, from the creative expression of subjectivity, and even from the language and rhetoric of meaning. The realistic quality of the cinema for Rohmer and Bazin lies in its resistance to human intentions, its ability to make visible a palpable, undeniable, and untranslatable material presence.”3

One way in which this “palpable, undeniable, and untranslatable material presence” makes itself apparent in Rohmer’s films is through the colour schemes used. In ‘L’Ami de mon Amie’ (‘Girlfriends and Boyfriends’), the character Blanche is often seen wearing white clothing, which is presumably a reference to the meaning of her name; the colour choice, belonging to the material world, comes to shape how we view the human subject. In ‘Les Nuits de la Pleine Lune’, the geometric palette of the photography is designed to mirror the works of Mondrian, thus emphasising the artistic significance of the aspects of the film that lie outside of the intentions of the characters themselves.4 Furthermore, this film can be said to place a particular emphasis on the material as the apartment rented in Paris by the protagonist Louise turns out to be more impactful than the actions of any individual character in the film; it first symbolises liberation for Louise as it gives her an alternative place to stay, but it soon becomes instrumental in the breakdown of her relationship as it causes her to be estranged from her boyfriend.

2. Blanche (left) and Léa (right) in 'L'Ami de mon Amie'

Arguably, the seeming lack of action within the narratives of the characters themselves allows Rohmer to make room to focus on the subtleties of the material world that adds to the overall realism of the films. Claude-Marie Trémois claims that the presence of dialogue in the films, as opposed to dramatic action, allows for more camera movement, so that details such as colours and décor become more noticeable.5

Subtlety also pervades the interpersonal relationships that are central to the films. Although Rohmer does not shy away from romantic love – every film in the series features romantic relationships of some kind or other – the films are not stories of passion or of the triumph of love over everything else. In fact, it could even be argued that love, in its idealised form, is somewhat satirised in the films; in ‘Le Beau Mariage’, Sabine’s sudden proclamation that she is going to marry, despite not knowing who she will marry yet, is treated as a comedic misunderstanding of the nature of marriage and of love that is destined for failure; in ‘L’Ami de mon Amie’, although Blanche and Léa do end up in happy romantic relationships at the end, these relationships only come about because of the farcical situation of each woman preferring the man whom the other is romantically involved with, ending in a comic scene at the end of the film where the two women seemingly exchange boyfriends. Rather, it is friendship – a more subtle and understated type of relationship – that is most crucial to the ‘Comédies et Proverbes’. The central pairings of the narratives – Blanche and Léa in ‘L’Ami de Mon amie’; Octave and Louise in ‘Les Nuits de la Pleine Lune’; Béatrice and Clarice in ‘Le Beau Mariage’; François and Lucie in ‘La Femme de l’Aviateur’ (‘The Aviator’s Wife’) – are not romantic ones (although there exists sexual tension between Octave and Louise throughout as he continually expresses his desire for her, to her continual refusal), but rather express bonds of friendship which are the subtle counterparts to the dramatic demands of romance and passion. Interestingly, some of these friendships – those between François and Lucie, and between Blanche and Léa – begin as chance encounters, brought about purely as a consequence of the characters taking the same bus, or eating at the same cafeteria during their lunch break. The chance encounter which develops into an important friendship further emphasises the importance of subtlety and detail; Rohmer reminds us that the slightest difference in circumstances could have meant that such fruitful friendships would not have come about at all, thus showing us that the smallest things in the world can turn out to make huge differences to our lives.

3. Octave (left) and Louise (right) in 'Les Nuits de la Pleine Lune'

Rohmer himself stated that his aim was to “extract as much from life as possible” when creating his films. Although art and life will always come apart in many important senses, one of the primary functions of Rohmer’s art is to stay true to the subtleties of life that can often be lost when filmmakers try instead to focus on action or on grand, improbable narratives. The realism in the ‘Comédies et Proverbes’ is one that is accurate to the complexities both of human experience and of the material world that shapes it; by focusing on detail rather than action, Rohmer makes room for appreciation of the understated beauty of reality.

1 « Lorsque l'on voit le rayon vert […] on est capable de voir dans son cœur et celui des autres »
Source : https://www.franceculture.fr/emissions/les-nuits-de-france-culture/la-nuit-eric-rohmer-410-microfilms-eric-rohmer-pour-le-rayon-vert-1ere-diffusion-07091986

2 Israel-Pelletier, Aimée: ‘Rohmer’s Realism: Women on the Border of What Is and What Might Be’, from The Films of Éric Rohmer: French New Wave to Old Master, Palgrave Macmillan, 2014, ed. L. Anderst (p.149)

3 Gunning, Tom, ‘Éric Rohmer and the Legacy of Cinematic Realism, from The Films of Éric Rohmer: French New Wave to Old Master, Palgrave Macmillan, 2014, ed. L. Anderst (pp.25-6)

4 See the following video for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_Fgt9q894E

5 Trémois, Claude-Marie. “ÉRIC ROHMER : ÉLOGE D’UN CINÉMA IMPUR.” Esprit (1940-), no. 297 (8/9), Editions Esprit, 2003, pp. 201–05, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24248873.

« Si l'on continue, en effet, à parler beaucoup, la caméra se fait toujours plus mouvante, le décor prend plus d'importance, les couleurs aussi. » (p.203)

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