Film Review
A busy screenwriter on an eclectic mix of films since the start of the
1950s - including Michel Boisrond's comedy
Une
parisienne (1957) and Jacques Becker's swansong
Le Trou
(1960) - Jean Aurel established himself as a film director on
the fringe of the French New Wave with this idiosyncratic look at the
psychology and sociology of that most bewildering of phenomena,
love. The film was inspired by an essay of the same title by the
French writer Stendahl, one that was ill-received and generally
regarded as incomprehensible when it was first published in 1822.
Co-scripted by Cécil Saint-Laurent (the author of the popular
Caroline chérie novels),
De l'amour is a sweetly subversive
film that wraps its innate vacuity in an appealing thick wrapping of
Nouvelle Vague insolence and modernity.
The film begins in the playful manner of Jean-Luc Godard's early comedies,
with Philippe Avron's attempts to lure Anna Karina into bed presented
as a kind of sporting event, complete with running commentary and a
burst of applause whenever Avron 'wins a bout'. This portion of
the film (it's hard to tell whether it is an imitation or a send-up of
the French New Wave) would have made a delightful short film, but as a
prelude to the main part of the film - Michel Piccoli's exploits as a
modern Don Juan - it is somewhat wasted. After this tasty little
hors d'oeuvre, the main course can't help feeling somewhat stale and
insipid. How
can you
follow a segment that includes lines like "Saved by the crayfish"?
There are some amusing moments as Piccoli, posing as possibly the
creepiest dentist you'd ever want to meet, sails along at the mercy of
his over-developed libido. When he is not directing his seductive
charms to the likes of Elsa Martinelli and Joanna Shimkus (at least he
has impeccable taste), he is regaling them with his home cinema
collection, which consists excusively of films in which he has recorded
for posterity all of his previous amorous exploits (starting a trend
that has now become an unpleasantly ubiquitous reality). The lack
of substance (and seafood-themed gags) does however become painfully
evident by the midpoint and thereafter the film becomes a tad dry and
repetitive.
With a less alluring cast,
De l'amour
would be an unappealing prospect and it is to Aurel's credit that he
gets the best from all of his lead actors. Anna Karina adorns her
habitual mystique with more than a whiff of Godardian mischief
as she plays hard to get for a likeably persistent Philippe Avron.
Joanna Shimkus and Michel Piccoli are so
well-suited that they had to work together again - and thankfully they
did, in Vittorio De Seta's haunting drama,
L'Invitée
(1969). After this naughty flirtation with Stendahl, Aurel went
on to direct several notable literary adaptations -
Lamiel (1967),
Manon 70 (1968) and
Staline (1985) - as well as penning
Francois Truffaut's last two films,
La Femme d'à côté
(1981) and
Vivement dimanche (1983).
© James Travers 2015
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
Raoul is a dentist by trade, an inveterate Don Juan by habit. His
young wife Hélène gets her revenge by leaving him and
starting a relationship with Serge, a man who accosts her in the street
and insists on making love to her. Raoul is not one to mourn over
this betrayal - he is soon pursuing his next amorous conquest,
Sophie. When the latter's ex-husband Antoine shows up to reclaim
his former lover, Raoul turns his attention to
Mathilde...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.