Idle Criterion Film Club Week 1: The Earrings of Madame de...

[TychoCelchuuu]

The Earrings of Madame de... (1953) dir. Max Ophüls.

This is a movie about a lady and hear earrings. It is in French. I liked this movie! It does some neat things.

You are now entering the spoiler zone. The are unmarked spoilers from here on out, so watch the movie before reading onwards.

I want to highlight four things that I found interesting about the movie. First, the tracking shots and long takes that Patrick mentioned. Second, the slanted camera angle we get a couple times, as highlighted in the screen capture above. Third, the personalities of the three characters.

The Tracking Shots and Long Takes

These are pretty apparent if you're the sort of person who watches out for these things. Indeed, the very first shot in the movie is a long over the shoulder tracking shot that follows Madame de Whatever as she picks out her outfit. We're stuffed right into her closet along with her, and we only see her face when she sits down and it's reflected (and slanted) in a mirror. Later the tracking shots are equally veiled - they follow a character as the character walks through a room, but the camera is outside the house so we just see the character in one window, then a wall for most of the shot, then finally the character in another window, or the character is in a ballroom and they're constantly obscured by dancing couples and pillars - this happens multiple times.

The effect would be one of disorientation - where is the character? Where have they gone? - except all of these shots are extremely long takes, too. We never cut, so we never get lost, despite the characters going out of sight for long stretches.

For me, at least, I think this gives us a sense of being privy to the inner lives of these characters while simultaneously getting a sense that things are veiled even to them. The camera never loses anyone but things get in the way, and nobody ever misunderstands someone else even though they never talk straight with one another. Louise, her husband André, and Donati all basically know what is happening, but they never come out and say it. Louise's way of saying "I love you" is to say "I don't love you," André is always aware of everything that is going on but also holds back from flat out saying it (which is symbolized perfectly by that scene near the end, when Louise is heartsick from having her affair broken off, and André talks to her with the earrings in his pocket throughout almost the entire conversation), and Donati makes no secret about how he feels but he of course has to constantly pretend nothing is going on. Even the excuse for the duel at the end is made up. The hypocrisy and double talk everyone engages in (think also of how Louise often tells lies) is echoed visually by these long tracking shots.

Slanty Scenes

Twice (maybe thrice?) when André and Donati talk, the camera is angled. The shot above is an angled shot of André but the shots of Donati are also angled. These are scenes where the two are alone and are talking with each other, and because of the slant they of course contrast quite a bit with the rest of the movie, which is level like movies typically are.

In both of these scenes André is exploiting his knowledge of the situation by toying with Donati and talking around things, which he does all the time, but I think he revels in it more when he does it with Donati compared to when he does it with Louise. With Louise, he seems to think he's trying to help her. That scene near the end, where he has the earrings in his pocket, is key, I think - he mentions how his life hasn't really turned out the way he would've liked, because he has changed himself for Louise's sake. He then tries to help her get over her sadness in his own odd stoic way.

There's none of this in his relationship with Donati - that's harsh to the point where he eventually shoots Donati, of course, but even before that he does things like keeping Donati waiting in that room near the end of the film (when he eventually shows up, that conversation is one of the slanted ones). In fact I just went and checked: the film is indeed slanted at least three times. When he challenges Donati to a duel, we get another series of slanted shots:

So I think it's pretty clear that the slant is all about the men, as opposed to Louise. The slant is playful and also sort of sinister, or off-kilter. It's funny but also wrong. To me this suggests a commentary on André's treatment of Donati. On the one hand, we get caught up in the jesting nature of it - it's fun to watch André toy with Donati and make jokes at his expense, and the tilted camera gives us leave to treat the whole thing as a farce. There is, though, an undercurrent of real menace there (rather than the undercurrent of tenderness that I think we get with André's treatment of Louise and the way he thinks he's helping her get over a difficult time in her life) and the slanted shot picks that out for us, because it's just wrong for the world to be slanted thus.

The Three Characters

We've got a pretty interesting set of people here, don't we? Louise is a funny mix of passion and manipulation - she's caught in the currents of this love, and it seems like it's taking control of her, but the way she manipulates people is by feigning faints, and we know she's a notorious flirt, so it's sort of unclear how much of the emotion she's putting into this is real and how much is an act. I think she probably doesn't know either - like the web of lies she builds up for not much reason, or all the machinations with the earrings, she's sort of dug herself in to a point where she's got to live and feel the things she at least pretends to live and feel. The apotheosis of this is of course the end, when she literally dies (well, maybe - we don't actually see it...) from emotion. Did she work herself up to the point where she died from exactly the weakness she was using as her strength? Or was she actually earnest the entire time? For spork armada this undermined the entire character. For me it gave her a lot of depth and ambiguity.

Donati, if we take Louise at her word, doesn't even love her at the end of the film, and yet, he gets himself killed in the duel. He doesn't really care - look at that insouciant expression he's got in the above image! That's not a crummy picture I took while he was blinking - that's how he played the whole scene. Why the sudden change? Donati seemed head over heels the rest of the time, then suddenly, it's over when André says it needs to be over. I think Donati realizing how fully he had been found out and the enormity of what he had done (symbolized by him learning that the earrings were a gift from André originally) is a sign that Louise is right, and that really for Donati this was all about Donati. He has a conception of himself that's more important to him than even life itself, and when he can't keep up appearances in the way he wants, it all has to crumble for him.

André is maybe the most interesting character. As I've noted above I see him as genuinely wanting to help Louise in his way. He says at one point that he has never been able to let himself feel sadness, and that he regrets it (or something like that). He clearly likes being in control - he is, after all, a general - and mastery of the situation and of his life seems like it's driving everything, but it's not clear what his end goal is. That one line about his life not having turned out like he would have liked is really suggestive, but we don't know what he means. It's clear, though, that somehow he's got regrets for everything, and all he can do is take charge of the situation he ends up in. When there's something he can't control, like how the earring are sold by his niece and show up again at his office, he gets angry and breaks his composure.

Sorry this writeup was late! I enjoyed reading everyone else's thoughts. I recommend also watching this introduction to the film by Paul Thomas Anderson, one of Chris Remo's favorite directors. It's pretty good.

[Roderick]

I hope you'll forgive me for reposting my thoughts here, I forgot that we were supposed to make a new topic. This is also the reason I've chosen to be magnanimous and forgive Tycho his tardiness in the matter. Since this topic is all about the film, I'll be open about it and forego the spoiler quotes.

 

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Quite a shocker ending! I think the most immediate puzzle of this film is how to place it in our modern minds. I get the feeling this story makes a lot more sense viewed in its proper time. First you have to get into the mindset of an age where women were these dainty, oft-fainting creatures - or at least, that was their outspoken role in society and they had to act by it.

 

This Madame de is certainly a character. She's represented as a somewhat spoiled thing, desperate for love and affection in a marriage that doesn't seem to thrill her all that much. She's at first depicted as lying, deceitful and untrustworthy, but we verrrrry slowly get to know her great affections. The romance she has with diplomat Donati is passionate and beautifully constructed (that dance scene/montage!). We know she's an adulterer in thought, but so is her husband, the general.

 

I get the feeling this isn't a morality play in the sense that it's an obvious good versus bad thing. In part it means to illustrate how frivolous the upper classes are, but also how they're ensnared in the bonds they create with others and society. Even the general only at the very last chooses to become outraged (and kills Donati in a duel). For the longest part he remained perfectly stoic and upbeat about the affair; knowing full well it was going on and even arranging for its demise in the least emotional way possible. These people are entirely concerned with their standing and their image.

 

Narratively it reminded me of a farce, but there's no jokes and no happy ending here. The two couples do not end up switching places; instead there's a deadly climax where both Madame de and Bonati (apparently) perish. Is this the penalty for their sins? Or a grave mockery aimed at the general, who ends up losing his wife no matter how he strives to control the situation?

 

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Now that a few days have passed, I have come to like this film better and better. I already thought quite a bit of it, but it has grown on me. I believe that's especially because of the way the characters were written and performed. All three of them truly encompass who they are. I think of Donati and see him casually lounging in a chair, cigar in hand and smiling that riveting smile. André, terse and extremely satisfied with himself. Madame de Je Ne Sais Quoi, more and more teetering on the edge of losing it.

 

I didn't catch the slanted shots (a moderate Dutch angle) you mentioned when I saw it, Tycho, but it's really interesting to see. I love how films are often so utterly holistically conceived, that the minutest positioning of the camera helps lift the story.

[Patrick R]

I'll also repost. Sorry for the monster length.

 

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I really liked this movie. Personal tastes mean I definitely preferred the first 30 minutes, when it was a social comedy about the frivolity of the upper class, to the melodrama it became, but I think that's definitely the point. Madame De starts the film as a frivolous person (the prelude describes her as "seemingly destined to a delightful, uncomplicated destiny") but love makes her real and three-dimensional.

 

She goes from praying for a successful sale of earrings to praying for her lover's life. From using her fainting as a way to manipulate people to actually being out of control and weak. The same way the same earrings take on different meaning each time they change hands, going from useless and impractical to the only thing she cares about in the world. I think the best melodramas have to have a real honest truth like that in their center to really work, and the idea of love being the key motivational factor of personal growth is a good one.

 

I adore Ophul's camerawork. He uses long takes and tracking shots to emphasize these characters' absurd opulence. That opening shot, those dances, that amazing shot where it pans from her bed to his for the first time and you realize how insane their bedroom is, or when it's tracking him from outside the house and he's closing an endless amount of windows. The decadence is absurd, emphasized by the occasional lower-class character's bemusement at their leaders and bosses (there's a great tracking shot at one of the dances where the camera rushes by a violin player in the foreground sneaking a bunch of cookies from a buffet) and the overly elaborate lives they lead.

 

I honestly think that's the most effective stuff in this movie, so it's a little disappointing that the end mostly ditches the satirical aspect in favor of straight melodrama. But still, good movie. I think it's a weird choice to start a film club on a video game podcast forum but, on the other hand, it's the kind of movie I totally wouldn't have seen on my own accord. Which makes it valuable choice, for sure.

 

Also, Andre is such an amazing bastard in this movie. So casually above feeling anything about anything, up until the end. That transition from the shopkeeper selling him back the earrings for the first time to him sending his tearful lover away, all while maintaining the same tone is such a good character moment.

 

If you like this and are interested in seeing other melodramas, I'd recommend two other melodramas: Daisy Kenyon and A Separation.

 

Daisy Kenyon (1947) is kind of a remarkable movie in that it's a melodrama in which every character seems to know they're in a melodrama. Not in a meta way, where it's self-referential, but in that every character seems determined to be rational, logical adults about their situation only to have their desires overwhelm them. It's a really incredible movie about how complicated love is, no matter how hard you try to simplify it. Characters seem to go back and forth between terse, natural dialogue and purple prose, depending on how in control of their passions they are. If melodramas can often seem facile and immature, this movie is like an antidote to that without losing any of the larger than life emotion.

 

A Separation (2011) is an Iranian film that won the Academy Award for best Foreign Film. It follows a couple in modern Iran going through a divorce, and all the lives they find themselves tangled in. It's a movie where seemingly every character is at cross purposes and, depending on how you view the movie, any one of them can be protagonist and antagonist. And yet there is no good or evil. They're all just trying to do what they feel is the right thing for themselves and their families. It's a good example of all the ways the melodrama has changed since Douglas Sirk, and all the ways it hasn't.

 

I don't think either are on Hulu Plus, though. Sorry.

 

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[Patrick R]

I didn't quite interpret Ophul's camerawork the way you do, Tycho. 

 

These are pretty apparent if you're the sort of person who watches out for these things. Indeed, the very first shot in the movie is a long over the shoulder tracking shot that follows Madame de Whatever as she picks out her outfit. We're stuffed right into her closet along with her, and we only see her face when she sits down and it's reflected (and slanted) in a mirror. Later the tracking shots are equally veiled

 

I feel like that shot is all about how it defines her. It's about allowing her things (closet after closet and drawer after drawer of insane extravagance) to define her before we get a chance to even empathize with her in the most basic way (seeing her face). Packing that much wealth into a single shot distances the audience (well, 99% of audience members) from her, and encourages us to be more objective viewers. It's what allows her arc to be so effective, that she starts from a place where no audience member takes her conflict (the need to sell the earrings and pretend they were lost) seriously.

 

The effect would be one of disorientation - where is the character? Where have they gone? - except all of these shots are extremely long takes, too. We never cut, so we never get lost, despite the characters going out of sight for long stretches.

For me, at least, I think this gives us a sense of being privy to the inner lives of these characters while simultaneously getting a sense that things are veiled even to them. The camera never loses anyone but things get in the way, and nobody ever misunderstands someone else even though they never talk straight with one another. Louise, her husband André, and Donati all basically know what is happening, but they never come out and say it. Louise's way of saying "I love you" is to say "I don't love you," André is always aware of everything that is going on but also holds back from flat out saying it (which is symbolized perfectly by that scene near the end, when Louise is heartsick from having her affair broken off, and André talks to her with the earrings in his pocket throughout almost the entire conversation), and Donati makes no secret about how he feels but he of course has to constantly pretend nothing is going on. Even the excuse for the duel at the end is made up. The hypocrisy and double talk everyone engages in (think also of how Louise often tells lies) is echoed visually by these long tracking shots.

 

I think a lot of this is more genre convention than anything. In melodramas people rarely talk straight with each other, and repression of emotions and desires is a very common theme. It's what creates conflict. I personally didn't feel much disorientation from the camerawork, so it didn't really echo the hypocrisy and double-talk to me.

[Patrick R]

It's also fun to watch movies like this and realize there was a time romantic dramas could feature people in their 40's or maybe even 50's.

[Roderick]

Yes, I loved that it is a wholly unique thing in this age. And again, I was so smitten by the dancing scene, I totally bought their love for each other. They were incapable of resisting.

[Professor Video Games]

Something I noticed is that several of the longer tracking shots involve (or end, I can't remember) with the characters at a distance and framed through something like a window in a door or some balusters. There's an intimacy to the shots when they follow close by for long periods but framing like that definitely adds a disconnect between the audience and the characters.

 

Tycho I also noticed the off-angle stuff in the Andre/Donati scenes. Makes those exchanges seem a bit more uneasy doesn't it?