The Marquise of O

If the romantic poet and playwright Heinrich von Kleist (who wrote almost at the same time as Goethe) could have imagined the cinema, he would have approved of Rohmer's filming of his novella. What we see here are not 20th century characters in costume, but early 19th century Romantic sensibilities reacting according to their way of looking at the world. It is as strange as time travel, and utterly charming. Rohmer frames them in sets like Caspar Friedrich or Fuseli paintings. This movie is a marvel.

Eric Rohmer, the great filmmaker, tries his hand at the kind of film that is everything that a Rohmer film isn't. Gone is the New Wave Modernism; the natural settings, hand-held cameras and dialogue that captures the quintessential nature of being human. Replaced instead with dowdy costumes, unmoving camera, and formal sets. Perhaps the original German flows with eloquent charm, but the English subtitles seem to have been translated by school children.

Merchant Ivory this isn't, and neither is it Rohmer.

Erich Rohmer's adaptation of a novella by Heinrich von Kleist is visually remarkable. If you can imagine a painting by Jacques Louis David come to life, that is what this film looks like. Clearly a lot of attention was paid to colors and lighting. Aficionados of neoclassicism should not miss it. I believe this was Bruno Ganz's first film and the other players, particularly Edith Clever, are fine as well. The tone is one of social satire tempered by comedy. A number of Netflix viewers have complained that the film requires a lot of patience. I don't agree. It requires an interest in the period, perhaps. Recommended for the discerning.

I originally read Heinrich von Kleist's "Die Marquise von O..." in a German class. Renting the movie, I naturally had to wonder whether or not they would stay faithful to the novel. They did. This story of an 18th century marquise (Edith Clever) who inexplicably becomes pregnant has surprises at every corner. In case you don't know the whole story, I won't spoil it for you, but you will be surprised at what happens. Strong performances by Clever and Bruno Ganz as The Count carry the movie, as does the perfect direction from Eric Rohmer.

Oh, and in case you're wondering about that "O...", it's deliberately incomplete, as are some other names in the story.

There are those who maintain that this should be counted among Eric Rohmer's Morality Tales but I consider this masterly version of Heinrich von Kleist's novella to stand alone in his output.

The verbosity of some of this director's modern pieces is inclined to test one's patience but here it is acceptable in a nineteenth century setting and has been adapted by Rohmer himself, having learned German when writing a thesis on Goethe's 'Faust'.

The direction is both elegant and restrained whilst its sparseness and economy of gesture call to mind a certain Robert Bresson. It is not without eroticism and the image of Edith Clever as the title character stretched out sleepily on a red bed wearing a luminous nightgown is worthy of an Ingres or a David. Little wonder that she proves so tantalising to the Count F of Bruno Ganz.

The painterly compositions throughout are courtesy of Néstor Almendros who, like his fellow graduates from the Centro Sperimentali di Cinematografia, Storaro and de Santis, is a master of natural light.

The 'rape' itself has always been a subject for 'scholarly' debate and here Rohmer has left it to our imagination. Indeed he suggests by means of a single close up that the perpetrator might perhaps be the handsome devil of Leopardo the servant rather than the eccentric Count F.

Bruno Ganz is beautifully understated here but it is the touching portrayal by Edith Clever as the Marquise that lingers longest.

'Ambiguity' is the name of the game in Kleist's piece and as such suits Rohmer's style to a tee.