Eric Rohmer: Under the Microscope

Despite being the co-founder and longtime editor of legendary French cinema mag Cahiers du Cinema and one of the most prolific of the French New Wave directors, very few people have ever heard of Eric Rohmer. In fact, most students of film have never even heard of Eric Rohmer, much less seen one of his movies.


Why is this? Well, I don’t have the answer, but I imagine it has something to do with the fact that his movies are not very cool--they lack the flashy style of a Truffaut or Godard movie, they’re too intellectual, too dialogue-heavy, too plot-light.

In spite of these normally off-putting qualities, if you are a patient viewer who enjoys soaking in the intricacies of the characters and their environment, his movies are very enjoyable to watch. Rohmer’s style is unique and consistent, his topics right out in the open, his characters raw and vulnerable, and his lustful camera lends credence to his characters paralyzed by indecision. Also to his credit, Rohmer’s early works have improved with age, if only because the passage of time has highlighted their timelessness--whereas I cannot say the same for many of those by his New Wave peers.

Rohmer’s films have weathered the years so well because their subject is a simple one--love. Love between a man and a woman, with another woman/man or two thrown in for good measure. His characters almost always must choose between two or three options, the choice never being easy, always involving the defining and redefining of their idea of love. Typically, his characters take slightly too long with this choice, paralyzed by indecision, and fail as a result.

Much great art, especially when it comes to storytelling, is produced by men and women operating outside the normal realm of sociability. Instead of blending in, these artists hungrily observe the lives of others from afar and study the immortalized opinions of the greats who lived before them. Judging from his movies, Eric Rohmer seems to be an intelligent man who thinks about and discusses life more than he lives it (much like Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese); the kind of man who neither shits nor gets off the pot, but instead externally hashes out the implications of every option in depth, with whomever might venture near his proverbial toilet. Rohmer’s intelligence has clearly handicapped him socially, and he seems frustratingly aware of it.

The protagonists of his most celebrated movies--whether young, old, male, female--all appear to be slightly different slices of Eric Rohmer himself. Each is unique, but shares many of the same problems--namely, they are presented with a chance to end their loneliness by pairing up with a woman/man, but are paralyzed when required to choose between two distinct options, and ultimately wind up with neither. To further rub in the humiliation, they often also discover they never had a chance to begin with, and therefore wasted a fat chunk of time discussing and debating an impossibility. Whether the character is vain or completely lacking in self-confidence, we see that their fate is the same when they fail to choose decisively.

Rohmer’s movies are simply shot--there are no complicated camera moves, no daring stylistic choices, no cheesy camera placements, no unconventional editing, etc--and yet powerful, because they allow his characters to move within a space, allow their humanity to breathe. The locations are sumptuous, the actors intriguingly attractive, and we are shown as many dull moments in their lives as exciting ones; essentially, we are allowed to view them as real people--they are relatable. And so we hope for their happiness, and so we forgive them their faults.

One of Rohmer’s trademarks is what I would say is easily the lustiest camera ever--scenes will open on a sexy pair of legs, and a minute later the woman will sit into frame; or, the camera follows a tiny pair of shorts around a room as we hear a conversation; women casually dress and undress in front of the camera and random men onscreen, feeling no need to hide their bodies. Rohmer has obviously created a world he wishes he could live in, but knows only exists in his mind and in his movies. That being said, he is wise to share this fantasy world, with its roots planted firmly in reality--ever the realist, even his fantasies typically have disappointing endings for the characters involved.

For those of you out there who are exhausted by the rampant availability of awful romantic comedies, and the dearth of smart romantic cinema since Woody Allen’s heyday, feel free to dig into the treasure trove that is Eric Rohmer’s oeuvre. Here is a handy guide for the neophyte:

The Litmus Test

Pauline at the Beach (1983)--Probably my favorite of his films, although I also love La Collectionneuse and Claire’s Knee. Pauline at the Beach seems to be where Rohmer reached his peak and made the most ‘Rohmer’ movie he could make, while at the same time it is his most palatable to the masses--a stunning achievement, considering the nature of his work. The film is packed with fascinating, raw, male and female characters, both young and old, volatile yet naturalistic relationships, a beautiful setting, and an ending that is at once realistic and satisfying.

The Greats

La Collectionneuse (1967)---His first masterpiece. About a man-eating young woman who has no desire to eat the one man who doesn’t want her to eat him, and how it eventually drives this man insane with desire. As soon as he works his way in, to finally have a shot at her, he suddenly has yet another change of heart and abandons her on the side of the road. She moves on without skipping a beat.

Claire’s Knee (1971)---The most hilarious of all Rohmer’s protagonists--the hair, the beard, the wardrobe, the fact that he only travels by motorboat...he at once fascinates and repels. This wannabe-Romeo fancies himself a ladies man and fails to realize that by the time he decides a woman is worthy of his romantic/lustful attentions, it is too late--she has already seen him for who he really is and brushes him off without second thought, in favor of a much-less intelligent, but much-more confident and attractive man. Funny, because the man gets exactly what he deserves, especially in light of his earlier crowing, but there is also an air of tragedy about it; he garners our sympathy as he tries to maintain his pride in the face of defeat. This is the story of a patently unhappy man who would have no problem with women if he would simply stop thinking so much and avoid immediately placing himself high above the beautiful, intelligent women he meets.

The Aviator’s Wife (1981)----Worst title ever, great movie. Rohmer’s Parisian version of Woody Allen’s Manhattan, or so it seems. Although still sumptuous and full of beautifully lingering shots, this film moves at a much more rapid clip than Rohmer’s earlier work. It seems like he was trying to modernize, to adapt to the marketplace--and it works. It is the story of one man, who loves a woman who takes his love for granted, and meets another, much younger woman who seems a much better match. Once again, choice enters into the mix; should he chase this young woman? Or should he resume his quest to conquer his somewhat-cold existing lover? And what is the deal with her other man? Will she choose the pilot over our hero? A charming dissection of love that turns into somewhat of a detective story. One of the sexiest woman-in-her-underwear-during-a-long-emotional-scene scenes ever committed to celluloid. And for all you ladies out there...there’s a pilot, too!

The Green Ray (aka Summer) (1986)----A pitch-perfect exploration of the trials and tribulations of a beautiful woman who wishes she were ugly, so that men wouldn’t just want her for sex and she could live her life like a normal, sociable human being. A tour-de-force performance by Marie Riviere (who also co-wrote, along with Rohmer), who expands on her complicated character introduced in The Aviators Wife. Although her character has a different name in this one, the two roles have so much in common that it is not hard to view Delphine as Anne two years down the road. Rohmer displays Delphine’s quirks in much the same loving way that Allen displays Annie Hall’s; even though everyone around her thinks she is weird and unnecessarily reclusive, the audience is on her side at every turn. Her biggest problem is that nobody wants to actually listen to what she has to say; they only want to hear themselves speak and deliver long tirades full of useless advice. Delphine is a vegetarian and nature-lover--so much so that ‘nature’ is fully a character in this movie, and the sound design during this character’s biggest scene is particularly stunning. The movie has a wonderful pace to it--a step back from that of The Aviator’s Wife, but perfect for its subject

The Very-Goods

A Summer’s Tale (1996)---A movie made in 1996 that looks like it is from 1976, a tape recorder the only noticeable inconsistency. The story centers on a young man who juggles three women at a beach resort in northern France. One is unattainable, but toys with him; another wants all of him or none of him; the third truly loves him, but remains his friend in order to see whether or not he will pursue her--luckily for him, all are beautiful. As is the case in a Rohmer movie, Gaspard ends up alone, leaving town to purchase an 8-track recording system to avoid a choice he will regret no matter his decision. It is an interesting, lush 100-minute treatise on romantic indecision, and ranks right up there with Rohmer’s best; a true return to form.

The Marquis of O (1976)----After a shockingly-bad opening, this film recovers well and, in the end, impresses. The hokeyness of this clearly-low-budget period piece is forgotten after the first five or ten minutes and the emotionally-rich story quickly moves to the forefront. Bruno Ganz, whom I loved for his subtle, brilliant performance in The American Friend (Wim Wenders, 1977), was equally as impressive here, in his portrayal of ‘The Count.’ The staid world of the 18th-century aristocracy seems laughable, though certainly faithful to history, and the drama that unfolds within that world is well-painted by Rohmer. My favorite moment? When the Marquis sulks, alone, in her vast, beautiful, many-servant-staffed country estate, and we are supposed to feel sorry for her; yes, her parents threw her out, but, come on--she isn’t exactly out on her ass!

Boyfriends and Girlfriends (1987)----Eric Rohmer as a woman, but adapting the character well to the other gender. She is very smart, lonely, horny, but awkward and reserved. She must choose between two men who are both good-looking, but one of them is a handsome ladies-man she can’t talk to, and the other is an intelligent, athletic gentleman who would make the much better choice--but dates her beautiful, vapid new best friend...

Excellent, But--WARNING--Super Intellectual, Dense & Wordy

My Night at Maud’s (1970)---A dense intellectual feast, centering mostly on one man’s love for the wisdom of Pascal. Like most Rohmer movies, this one is thin on plot, but this is even more guilty of that than the others. If you don’t like watching people sit in chairs and talk endlessly about their philosophies on life and love, this one is not for you. If you enjoy philosophy and don’t mind a slow, talky film, this one will have you on your knees by the end, shouting, “Just FUCK HER ALREADY!” at your TV--I don’t care how timid you are. Trust me.

Skip Unless You’re Curious or a Completist

Bakery Girl of Monceau (1963)---A short. Somewhat interesting, but not exceptional.

Suzanne’s Career (1963)---Also a short. Slightly more interesting than Bakery Girl, a bit more raw; exposes the ruthlessness men are capable of when chasing women.

Full Moon in Paris (1984)---- Again a whiny female lead who wants things her way, no matter what. Fresh out of design school, she relishes her freedom and is not ready to be embalmed in the suburbs with her older, doting boyfriend. She maintains a pied-a-terre in the city so she can dance all night with her friends and not have to worry about the train schedule back out to bumble. But what to do when men pursue her and she must make a choice? As is the case so frequently in a Rohmer movie, though usually only with the male leads, she winds up alone in the end, due to her inability to make the wise choice at the right time.
Probably my least favorite of Rohmer’s films. The lead, although very appealing physically, was a bit too whiny for my taste. Not only that, but it was too easy to agree with her decision to not spend much time with her boyfriend--he was a brutish bore who smothered her with his love. He didn’t seem to have any good qualities, since even his love for her got chalked up in the negative category.
It was satisfying to see her get what she deserved in the end, and the movie certainly seemed a faithful representation of the slow dissolution of a doomed relationship, but that doesn’t mean it makes for good cinema. A misstep for sure.

Chloe in the Afternoon (aka Love in the Afternoon) (1972)---Aside from a beautiful opening montage of life on the streets in Paris, and a few similar interludes throughout, this is only a good film. After his previous three efforts, as well as the promise of the premise, I found it disappointing. Whereas the failure of his other movies to involve much in the way of a plot, or a satisfying ending, has never bothered me before, this time it did--this time I had trouble believing it. The supporting female characters are fascinating, but I found the lead terribly dull. I would skip this one, unless you’ve already watched his best and are curious about this one.

Nadja in Paris (1964) / A Modern Coed (1966) (shorts) --- Nothing remarkable.

A Good Marriage (1982)-------Disappointing. The female protagonist is wholly unlikable. There is no shred of emotion in the entire movie. Everyone seems to be reading from a script, rather than reacting naturally. It wasn’t very long, but it seemed to drag on forever, and get nowhere. The last minute is the only part of the movie I enjoyed; it seemed to belong to a different movie (although the music was the same as during the opening credits, where it was also out of place, considering the movie). AVOID.

Didn’t Bother to See, Probably Never Will,
You Should Do the Same

Triple Agent (2004)

The Lady and the Duke (2001)

The Romance of Astrea and Celadon (2007)

Sadly Unavailable on DVD

Perceval (1978) -- I had this one on my Netflix queue, only to be later informed it is unavailable. Damn! Another period piece, and I’ve read it’s a good one.

Rendezvous in Paris (1995)

A Tale of Winter (1992)

Autumn Tale (1998)

Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle (1987) -- Supposedly not so great, but I’m sure there is something redemptive in at least one of these four tales. Then again, maybe not. Sometimes the chemistry works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Unavailable on DVD, Probably for the Best

The Tree, the Mayor, and the Mediatheque (1993)

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