Berlinale Diary 3: Two Old Masters in Fine Form

[I know, the festival is long over by now, but the burnout of watching thirty-seven films in ten days was greater than I expected. Festival reviews will likely follow for some time now...] Two names that stood out in this year's (dare I say it?) mediocre competition lineup were Jacques Rivette and Jirí Menzel – key figures from the French and Czech nouvelle vague that are, fortunately for us, still making fine films. Though it's unlikely that Ne Touchez Pas La Hache (Don't Touch the Axe) or Obsluhoval Jsem Anglického Krále (I Served the King of England) will be remembered as either director's greatest work, both films approach filmmaking and storytelling in a way that reveals a tremendous gap between the old masters and many of their contemporary peers in competition. A trend I noticed at this year's festival were films that made a concerted effort to eschew traditional cinematic narrative and aesthetic techniques – the very constructs that both Rivette and Menzel happily embrace, yet do so in a way that that still manages to feel fresh. As much as I admire the directors who opted for an alternate, more contemplative route, it soon became obvious that not everybody can (or did) get away with this. Gorgeous cinematography and long takes does not a Bela Tarr make, and many of the films suffered from stripping away too much, leaving us with pretty pictures, but otherwise uncompelling stories, characters, ideas, etc. The most common response I heard when asking people their thoughts on Don't Touch the Axe was (after a pregnant pause), "Well, it was Rivette." A flippant reaction that isn't incorrect, for even if the film was without credits there'd be no question as to who helmed this remarkable (albeit imperfect) film. This isn't the first time Rivette turned to Balzac as a source, but unlike Out 1or La Belle Noiseuse, which were "inspired by," Don't Touch the Axe is very much a literal adaptation of the novella The Duchess of Langeais. (I've been told that the dialog is lifted verbatim from the original text.) Best described as a romantic duel, Balzac's novella tells of the tumultuous relationship between a French General, Armand de Montriveau (Guilluime Depardieu) and the coquettish but married Duchess Antoinette de Langeais (Jeanne Balibar). Their story is less a traditional romance than it is an ill-fated dance between two equally passionate characters who are undone by machinations of their own making. When the Duchess first meets the heroic but dull General, she is fascinated by his tales of travel and adventure. Underestimating his character, she quickly sets out to win his affections, only to sternly rebuke him when he lets his feeling be known. Yet we soon learn that the seemingly simple Armand is far more cunning than we first realized. Kidnapping the Duchess results in her yielding to his demands, which ultimately takes the fun out of it for him. With the shift in power now in his favor, Armand does little but torment her for weeks on end – refusing to see her or answering her many letters. Naturally, things go too far, and extreme choices are made that will destroy them both. Don't Touch the Axe is a study of two individuals for whom the game is more interesting than the outcome; where the act of conquering is more satisfying than the victory. Beyond Balzac's dialog, Rivette masterfully utilizes a handful of cinematic techniques to capture the introspective nature of the story – the yearning, the waiting, and the tormented passion. From his use of varying degrees of light (primarily from candle and/or hearth) to reflect mood, to the exaggerated ambient sounds of squeaky floorboards or crackling fireplace that almost compete with the dialog, there isn't a single facet of the direction that is superfluous or without intention. There's also something very theatrical to the whole affair – from the opening of a curtain that leads into a scene, to the many intertitles Rivette employs, which range from the descriptive, "Five years earlier" to the editorial, "If the previous scene was the civil period in this sentimental war, this is the religious one." With the exception of a few external scenes that bookend the film, most of the action takes place in the confined spaces of sitting rooms, parlors, or bedrooms. Working once again with cinematographer William Lubtchansky, Rivette positions his actors to create a series of beautifully staged tableaux that are at times breathtaking. Lubtchansky's camera work is astounding in its economy, with every camera movement married to Rivette's choreography of the characters. The one weakness in the film is Depardieu fils, who lacks the depth required for his many moments of quiet contemplation, especially when compared to Balibar, who turns in the finest performance of her career. Though short by his normal standards (137 minutes), Don't Touch the Axe isn't likely to create a new breed of Rivette fans. This is a slow film, and will no doubt leave many agitated. (Even the press screening saw a large amount of walkouts.) However, die-hards won't be disappointed. This is a film that begs repeated viewings, and I sincerely hope it manages to find a US distributor. Though Rivette's titular axe was used to cut off the head of Charles the First, it is another king of England that is also anecdotally referred to in Jirí Menzel's charming and very funny I Served the King of England. And like Rivette returning to Balzac, so Menzel has once again turned to an author whose work he's adopted several times in the past – Czech author Bohumil Hrabal. One of the first things that struck me while watching the film was that it was one of the few times at the festival that I found myself smiling and laughing – a welcome and much-needed relief after all the dour heaviness. That's not to say Menzel's film is simply fluff, but it was refreshing to see a lighthearted and satirical look a difficult and troubled bit of history. It was also great to see that Menzel has lost none of his comic ability as a director. A classic "rise and fall of..." story, I Served the King of England follows the life of Jan Ditie, who goes from a closely watched train station hot dog vendor to multi-millionaire to exiled prisoner over the course of four decades. With its visual humor (including inspired moments of slapstick), brilliant incorporation of music, and naive but likable pint-sized lead character, Menzel has created a decidedly Chaplinesque farce with a very modern flair. Jan has but one wish in life – to become incredibly wealthy. After learning that even the richest man will get down on his hands and knees to pick up scattered change, our hero soon plots his path to plenty with the aid of a wealthy meat-slicer salesman who gets him a job at a prestigious hotel cum brothel for the über-wealthy – those captains of industry who light their cigars with thousand Crown notes, and who dole out tips larger than their tabs. A series of comical (and unlikely) events finds Jan with ever-increasing wealth, which allows him to pursue his only other interest – sex. The women in Hrabal's world are all commodities – objects for sale that gladly sprawl nude on a rotating centerpiece while the wealthy engage in an orgy of culinary delights. Though technically still a servant, these women find Jan's boyish charm irresistible, and soon his sexual conquests begin to rival his piles of cash. Not long after Hitler's rise to power, Jan meets and falls in love with Liza, a propaganda-spouting Nazi (Julia Jentsch, last seen, amusingly enough, as the lead in Sophie Scholl) who only agrees to bed Jan when she learns he has German blood. (A lovemaking scene beneath a huge portrait of der Führer is disturbingly hilarious.) Scorned by his countrymen for marrying the enemy, Jan is all but oblivious to current events, even when he is hired to work at a mating center where Teutonic goddesses are employed to breed a new generation of Nazis. It's here that the film veers somewhat close to Roberto Benigni territory, but Menzel cleverly opts for bittersweet over schmaltzy sentimentality. The sequences which feature Jan as an older man (following his release from prison) living in poverty under the Soviet regime are perhaps a bit too obvious in their depiction of Jan's redemption, but his relationship with a free-spirited young woman is handled with a charming sincerity that makes for a nice balance to the film's many madcap moments. I Served the King of England is a sexy bit of satire that fits nicely in Menzel's oeuvre, and is easily one of the cleverest  and wittiest comedies to come out of Europe in recent years.

Comments

[Brian]

No need to apologize for continuing reviews from Berlin! There are advantages to festival coverage that is written with some distance from the event.

You make thes films sound quite interesting, and I hope it doesn't take too long for them to appear on our shores.

[colinr0380]

"Though short by his normal standards (137 minutes), Don't Touch the Axe isn't likely to create a new breed of Rivette fans. This is a slow film, and will no doubt leave many agitated. (Even the press screening saw a large amount of walkouts.)"

That is something I often wonder about, hearing it happen at many film festivals. What purpose does walking out serve? Even if a film is a load of rubbish, surely it is best to watch to the end so it can legitimately be said that "I saw this, and it was terrible!"

Is it just a case of screenings being packed so close together that audience members have to make quick decisions about whether to stay in a a particular film, or try and get into another one?

Or is it about being seen ostentatiously walking up the aisle to show off their disdain for the film (and for the ladies maybe their dress) to the other audience members?

Or are many audience members not at the festival for the actual films, but for other things, such as the business deals and prestige of the events? So that when the film itself starts that is their cue to fall asleep or walk out?

Since this was one of the shorter Rivettes, I wonder how people coped with Berlin Alexanderplatz?

[Filmbrain]

Colin --

Had this been a public or even a buyers screening, I would understand the number of walkouts. Yet this was a press screening -- an overflow screening in fact, given that the first one was packed. (A friend at that screening confirmed that there were just as many walkouts.)

Walkouts at the Berlinale are not uncommon, but rarely have I encountered it at the press screenings for the titles in competition.

I couldn't help but wonder -- were many of these journalists completely unfamiliar with Rivette? Were they expecting something more action packed?

On the other hand the festival is tightly packed, and sometimes the only way to catch a film is to leave another one early. However, press screenings don't overlap.

[Baaar-Sum]

Film lovers...visit us at www.baaar-sum.com
We hope to make you remember and laugh.

[Jens Lichtenberger]

This should be called "Don't Touch the Stinker".

For all those that saw French Literature as a commentary on the banal, this is one to avoid. The number of carriages going nowhere can only be explained by the nature of the government or Allianz Francaise stipend that insisted upon period backdrops. Shame they didn't also insist upon a watchable movie. This is boredom central. And just to let you know, the most he ever does is kiss her hand (badly).