It's funny that Robert Bresson accordingly disliked Carl Theodor Dreyer's 'La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc,' because between the two films only one is a household name, and it's not his. Just as much to the point, there are more similarities between the two pictures than there are differences. Specifically, Bresson's works are largely characterized by a low-key tone that lets the story speak for itself, and there are no dramatic flourishes added to this interpretation of historical records, just as was true in 1928. The storytelling is likewise kept very simple, hardly anything more than a rote dramatization of the proceedings against an icon in the fifteenth century. Overall it's a little more nuanced than that, of course, but the long and short of it is that Bresson's 1962 feature may not be as celebrated or remarkable as Dreyer's, but it's still enjoyable and worthwhile on its own merits.
It's interesting that in his own words Bresson sought to "avoid 'theater' and 'masquerade'" with his rendition, because ironically, I think this movie's greatest weakness is that it seems to have actively embraced just that. It's hardly a defining quality, but it's very notable that throughout these sixty-four minutes Bresson adds to the straightforward recounting of Jeanne d'Arc's trial by including the jeers and taunts of a crowd in the background soundtrack, including deriding laughter. Frankly it's off-putting not just for the inclusion in and of itself, but even more so because it's obviously audio inserted in post-production rather than a reflection of people who were on-set. The title tries to faithfully reproduce the mockery of a trial where the guilt of the accused had already been determined, in a scenario that pitted personal Christian superstition against institutional Christian superstition, with further themes of hypocrisy, misogyny, and patriarchy - and in this case, we effectively watch it unfold with a laugh track. Well, that's unfortunate.
With the camera drawn back to give a more conventional perspective than the close-ups that Dreyer heavily employed thirty-four years prior, Bresson sagely dressed up his visual presentation with sets and costume design that's a bit more ornate and detailed than that primary point of comparison. Hats off to the crew, for everything down to the hair and makeup look swell. I'm also fond of Léonce-Henri Burel's cinematography, which comes across as rather smart from top to bottom. I don't think the performances here are anything especially noteworthy, but the assembled cast perform admirably to round out the feature. And still - I'm sorry, but I keep coming back to those sounds of the crowd. I told myself it wasn't a big deal, but I can't stop thinking about it and it's obviously more distracting than I even thought at first. I didn't want this to be my lasting impression of a Bresson film.
When all is said and done this is mostly well made and enjoyable. Broadly speaking it's just about as solid as one would suppose of so esteemed a filmmaker. Whether one is drawing comparison to prior treatments of Jeanne d'Arc, however, or to other works within Bresson's own oeuvre, I don't think 'Procès' is anything special, and it's maybe even a smidgen lesser than. By no means is this to say that it's bad, because that's certainly not true, but setting aside one distinct drawback, there's also nothing about this that really stands out. And there's nothing wrong with that! There's no rule that says every film has to be a singular stroke of brilliance. Still, unless you're a devotee of Bresson or a major history buff, I don't think this really demands viewership in any capacity. Either way it's worth checking out if you have the chance, but don't go out of your way for it.
It's interesting that in his own words Bresson sought to "avoid 'theater' and 'masquerade'" with his rendition, because ironically, I think this movie's greatest weakness is that it seems to have actively embraced just that. It's hardly a defining quality, but it's very notable that throughout these sixty-four minutes Bresson adds to the straightforward recounting of Jeanne d'Arc's trial by including the jeers and taunts of a crowd in the background soundtrack, including deriding laughter. Frankly it's off-putting not just for the inclusion in and of itself, but even more so because it's obviously audio inserted in post-production rather than a reflection of people who were on-set. The title tries to faithfully reproduce the mockery of a trial where the guilt of the accused had already been determined, in a scenario that pitted personal Christian superstition against institutional Christian superstition, with further themes of hypocrisy, misogyny, and patriarchy - and in this case, we effectively watch it unfold with a laugh track. Well, that's unfortunate.
With the camera drawn back to give a more conventional perspective than the close-ups that Dreyer heavily employed thirty-four years prior, Bresson sagely dressed up his visual presentation with sets and costume design that's a bit more ornate and detailed than that primary point of comparison. Hats off to the crew, for everything down to the hair and makeup look swell. I'm also fond of Léonce-Henri Burel's cinematography, which comes across as rather smart from top to bottom. I don't think the performances here are anything especially noteworthy, but the assembled cast perform admirably to round out the feature. And still - I'm sorry, but I keep coming back to those sounds of the crowd. I told myself it wasn't a big deal, but I can't stop thinking about it and it's obviously more distracting than I even thought at first. I didn't want this to be my lasting impression of a Bresson film.
When all is said and done this is mostly well made and enjoyable. Broadly speaking it's just about as solid as one would suppose of so esteemed a filmmaker. Whether one is drawing comparison to prior treatments of Jeanne d'Arc, however, or to other works within Bresson's own oeuvre, I don't think 'Procès' is anything special, and it's maybe even a smidgen lesser than. By no means is this to say that it's bad, because that's certainly not true, but setting aside one distinct drawback, there's also nothing about this that really stands out. And there's nothing wrong with that! There's no rule that says every film has to be a singular stroke of brilliance. Still, unless you're a devotee of Bresson or a major history buff, I don't think this really demands viewership in any capacity. Either way it's worth checking out if you have the chance, but don't go out of your way for it.