As a fan of Eric Rohmer's studies of the contemporary war between the sexes, I was very eager to see "The Lady and The Duke (L'Anglaise et le duc)" for how he would treat men and women during a real war, the French Revolution.
The film looks beautiful, with each scene designed as a period painting, like a tableaux vivant. And I expected much talking, as that's Rohmer's style. But maybe Rohmer was restrained by basing the screenplay on a real woman's writings is why this mostly felt like a docudrama version of "The Scarlet Pimpernel."
As awful as the excesses of Robespierre et al, how about some recognition that the French aristocrats were spoiled brats? I kept humming to myself: "Marat, we're poor/and the poor stay poor;" you could also pick a tune from "Les Miz."
I wasn't all that sympathetic as the central figure has to go back and forth between her city home and country manor to stay ahead of the Revolution. At one point her maid claims the pantry is bare but sure manages to lay out a fine repast. I simply didn't understand her, an English sympathizer who alternately rejects and defends her former lover and patron as he and the Revolution keep shifting political focus; I think I was supposed to sympathize with her consistency more than their political machinations, like a character out of "The Scarlet Pimpernel." Hey, the only reason she didn't go back home was her disgrace after an affair and child with the Prince of Wales or somebody.
Usually in a revolutionary period there's some groundswell of change going on in relations between men and women, but I saw none here. I once went to a Herbert Marcuse lecture that concluded with a lengthy Q & A; the last question, from an audience member far older than the rest of us acolytes, heck she had gray hair, was "Why are revolutionaries so grim?" She was hooted at and Marcuse didn't deign to respond to it seriously -- but it's the only thing of substance I remember from the whole evening. Rohmer demonstrates that counter-revolutionaries are also grim and didactic.
(originally written 8/11/2002)
The film looks beautiful, with each scene designed as a period painting, like a tableaux vivant. And I expected much talking, as that's Rohmer's style. But maybe Rohmer was restrained by basing the screenplay on a real woman's writings is why this mostly felt like a docudrama version of "The Scarlet Pimpernel."
As awful as the excesses of Robespierre et al, how about some recognition that the French aristocrats were spoiled brats? I kept humming to myself: "Marat, we're poor/and the poor stay poor;" you could also pick a tune from "Les Miz."
I wasn't all that sympathetic as the central figure has to go back and forth between her city home and country manor to stay ahead of the Revolution. At one point her maid claims the pantry is bare but sure manages to lay out a fine repast. I simply didn't understand her, an English sympathizer who alternately rejects and defends her former lover and patron as he and the Revolution keep shifting political focus; I think I was supposed to sympathize with her consistency more than their political machinations, like a character out of "The Scarlet Pimpernel." Hey, the only reason she didn't go back home was her disgrace after an affair and child with the Prince of Wales or somebody.
Usually in a revolutionary period there's some groundswell of change going on in relations between men and women, but I saw none here. I once went to a Herbert Marcuse lecture that concluded with a lengthy Q & A; the last question, from an audience member far older than the rest of us acolytes, heck she had gray hair, was "Why are revolutionaries so grim?" She was hooted at and Marcuse didn't deign to respond to it seriously -- but it's the only thing of substance I remember from the whole evening. Rohmer demonstrates that counter-revolutionaries are also grim and didactic.
(originally written 8/11/2002)