January 12: R.I.P.

While I wanted to celebrate the birthday of the oldest living Academy Award winner, I could not let today pass without noting the death yesterday of two individuals -- one of whom gave us some of the most marvelous films in world cinema and the other who, despite her protests, was the true embodiment of that overused word "hero".

Monday marked the passing of French filmmaker Eric Rohmer -- one of the last surviving members of La Nouvelle Vague (The New Wave) and also a genius writer-director. In a career that spanned some six decades, Rohmer was a novelist, a critic (for Cahiers du Cinema), an author (he and Claude Chabrol co-authored one of the best studies of Alfred Hitchcock) and filmmaker. His movies were eclectic, challenging, talky but never dull.  Others have written more eloquently than I about the man and his work and I won't even pretend to try. I have enjoyed many of his films (which admittedly can be an acquired taste) and I'm sorry that there won't be one more. But we can savor the legacy he has left  us.

I also want to note the passing at the age of 100 of Miep Gies, the woman who helped to shelter Otto Frank and his family in Holland for several years during World War II before their whereabouts was betrayed by person or persons unknown. Mrs. Gies in an interview claimed that she was not a hero, but I know I'm not alone in saying on that point she was wrong. What she did took enormous courage and strength and determination and a sense of morality that is lacking in many. Mrs. Gies was the one who collected the papers on which young Anne Frank composed the now famous diary and if it weren't for her we would have been deprived of that voice. Not only do we have that work of literature but we have a biography of Mrs. Gies, Anne Frank Remembered: The Story of the Woman Who Helped to Hide the Frank Family. It may seem trivial to do so, but I'd like to also point out the above average TV movie "The Attic: The Hiding of Anne Frank" in which Mrs. Gies was portrayed by Mary Steenburgen. There's also Pat Carroll's beautifully rendered cameo in Freedom Writers. And we have the lady herself in appearances in the documentary Anne Frank Remembered and in video clips on the Miep Gies Web Site.

Two very distinct individuals, both filled with humanity, who passed away on the same day.

Requiescant in pace.

December 2: "Les amours d'Astrée et de Céladon"

I was a weird kid, no question about it, but one thing for which I'm grateful is that I started learning French almost from the time I could speak. My mom had learned it in high school, my older sister had studied the language (as well as Spanish) and my aunt was a schoolteacher who sometimes taught French to her students. I went to Catholic schools and French was part of the curriculum, so I had eight years of French, followed by four more in high school. Since there was a language requirement in college, I first chose to take French (hey, it was an easy A), but then I got ambitious and decided to study German.

One of the benefits of studying the language was that we got to see several films in French. Indeed, I have indelible memories of my very first French-language film: Truffaut's Jules et Jim. Is it any wonder why I got hooked? I managed to see as many Truffaut films as I could (this was in the days before VHS and DVD) so I was dependent on revival houses. When I got to college in Boston -- the city was bursting with cineastes and one could head to the Orson Wells in Cambridge, or the Nickelodeon in Boston or the Coolidge Corner in Brookline. Plus BU had a pretty great cinema club going -- every weekend there were wonderful double features. Those were heady times which I know are just memories for some of us older folks.

So eventually I got introduced to Eric Rohmer's films. He's a fascinating filmmaker, mostly because he treats the audience with respect and intelligence. Rohmer's films deal more with human relationships. Some find his work very "talky" -- me, I find them irresistible.

His most recent effort (and what he has claimed will be his final movie) was 2007's Les amours d'Astrée et de Céladon (The Romance of Astrea and Celadon). This is a rare venture into period filmmaking for the director. He had previously suffered commercial failure with 1978's Perceval le Gallois, which was adapted from Arthurian legend. More than 20 years later, Rohmer tackled another "period" drama L'Aglaise et le duc (The Lady and the Duke) which played at the New York Film Festival. The director employed digital technology to create the backdrops and the result was quite fascinating. I rather enjoyed the movie although I know it was something of a minority view.

The Romance of Astrea and Celadon was adapted from a pastoral romance that itself was set in the fifth century. It's basically a tried and true tale of love -- in this case between a comely shepherdess (Astrea) and her lover, an aristocrat who works as a shepherd (Celadon). His family doesn't approve of her and so he must pretend to woo another. She spies him getting a bit too friendly with the "pretend" girlfriend and misconstrues the events. Her jealousy leads her to denounce her lover, who broken-heartedly threatens to kill himself. In fact, he jumps into a nearby river and his body is never found.

Well, at least not by his beloved or by his family. When he does wash up on shore, he's found by a nymph named Galatea and her minions, one of whom is the daughter of a druid priest. They nurse him back to health, but Galatea is certain he's to be her lover. One of her servants, Sylvia, frees Celadon and with the aid of her father, a druid priest, plot to reunite him with his beloved.

As in any Rohmer film, there's a lot of talk -- in this case about the nature of love and its many forms. There's also a wonderful sequence between the druid priest and Celadon in which the men discuss religion. The performances are somewhat formal as dictated by the plot, but otherwise enjoyable. It may not rank as the best of Rohmer's oeuvre but fans of the director's work should find The Romance of Astrea and Celadon satisfying.


Rating: B+