Du côté d'Orouët (1973)
Directed by Jacques Rozier

Film Review

Such was the success of Jacques Rozier's first feature Adieu Philippine (1962), now considered one of the most essential films of the French New Wave, that you'd have thought Rozier would have had no difficulty finding backing for his second full-length film.  Rozier's falling out with producer Georges de Beauregard put paid to this ambition and it was seven years before this supposed enfant terrible of the Nouvelle Vague was able to make his second feature. On this occasion, Rozier had to make do with a miniscule budget provided by French television producers Yves Jaigu and Yves Laumet, who also supported Jean Renoir's final film, Le Petit théâtre de Jean Renoir (1970).  Du côté d'Orouët was originally shot on 16 mm film in 1969, and given a limited release in 1973.  Despite being re-released in 1996, as a 35 mm print, it is far less appreciated than it deserves to be and remains one of Rozier's least known works.

Long and languorous, but alive with an exhilarating sense of freedom tinged with ennui and fleeting shots of melancholia, Du côté d'Orouët feels like one of those lazy summer holidays that never seems to end.  In his striving for a more authentic style of filmmaking, one that minimises the gap between cinematic artifice and real life, Rozier is clearly influenced by Jean Rouch's cinéma vérité and earlier work by Robert Flaherty.  With Rozier's handheld camera recording everything without fear or favour - including 'dead' moments or unflattering shots that would usually be the first to litter the cutting room floor - Du côté d'Orouët has an immediacy and intimacy that takes us way beyond the cold objective realism of documentary.  There is not one part of the film that does not look as if it was casually improvised.  The whole thing is a scrappy montage of life - unpolished, unadorned but totally beguiling.

Rozier did not repeat the mistake he made on Adieu Philippine, which was to somehow lose the entire soundtrack before he got into the editing suite.  In Du côté d'Orouët, sound is as essential a part of the film as the pictures, and it is the perfect integration of the two that gives it its startling 'sur le vif' vitality.  There are no actors in the film, only individuals who blithely allow the camera to follow them about as they behave as they might in real life.  If you had to categorise the film, it would be more easily classified as a wildlife documentary (about human beings) than a conventional film drama.  There isn't much to like about the three central women protagonists - they're a loud, coarse and pretty shallow trio - but somehow they monopolise our attention, in much the same way that some weird species of insect or lizard might fascinate us in a nature film.

Our sympathies are reserved for the put-upon Gilbert, portrayed with an indefinable charm by Bernard Menez in his first film role.  Rozier would employ Menez in two subsequent films - a pilot for an aborted television series, Nono Nenesse (1975) and his acclaimed feature Maine Océan (1986), although it is for his prominent role in François Truffaut's La Nuit américaine (1973) that the actor is best remembered.  Not only does Menez's gumpish character provide the film with its most humorous interludes, it also helps to humanise it and prevent it from being just a sterile exercise in style.  With a runtime of two and a half hours, this Jacques Rozier masterpiece places great demands on the spectator, but for those who are willing to let go and submit to its unique charms, the time and effort are more than rewarded.  Had it been better distributed, Du côté d'Orouët could have been one of the crowning glories of the French New Wave.

Film Synopsis

One September, three young women take a break from their routine lives in Paris and head for a quiet seaside resort on the Atlantic coast.  Kareen, Caroline and Joëlle rent a small house by the sea on a deserted beach and spend their days revelling in their newfound freedom.  Just as the holiday starts to become monotonous, Joëlle's boss and unwelcome admirer Gilbert shows up unexpectedly.  When a storm breaks, the three women agree to allow Gilbert to erect a tent in their garden.  They will take an equal delight in tormenting this hapless Don Juan over the coming days...