Film Review
It was whilst he was working on
Toni (1934), his first serious
brush with the problems of the ordinary working classes, that Jean
Renoir conceived
La Grande Illusion,
the film that was destined to become one of the director's most
important and best-known works.
The wartime reminiscences of a
former comrade-in-arms, together with his own experiences as an aviator
during the First World War, provided Renoir with the starting point for
a script, which he developed with screenwriter Charles Spaak as they
worked together on
Les Bas-fonds (1936).
Renoir came tantalisingly close to never making the film, as he
expressed a far keener interest in Spaak's script for
La
Belle équipe (a film which appeared to have been born
out of the public euphoria for the Popular Front but which ended up
being chillingly prescient of the movement's demise).
Renoir even went as far as to ask Spaak to sell
La Grande illusion to rival
director Julien Duvivier. Duvivier was unimpressed with Renoir's
dull prisoner-of-war tale but warmed immediately to
La Belle équipe. Once
he had made up his mind to direct
La
Grande illusion, Renoir then had enormous difficulty finding a
backer. Only after Jean Gabin (the star of
Les Bas-fonds) had agreed to appear
in the film was the director able to persuade producer Raymond Blondy
to finance it. It was largely a matter of luck that Renoir was
able to make the film on which his future reputation would, to a large
extent, rest and which many now regard as one of the unassailable
monuments of cinema.
The apparent ease with which Renoir was willing to give up
La Grande illusion to another
director now appears scarcely believable. Surely there is no
other film in which Renoir appears to be so thoroughly involved, in
which he reveals his political and humanist concerns with such warmth,
sincerity and lucidity. It is the film in which his personal
stamp is most recognisable - his faith in the intrinsic decency of the
common man, his contempt for class divisions, his abhorrence for
war. (Gabin even wears the very uniform which Renoir wore when he
was serving as an aviator during WWI.) All that needs to be known
about Jean Renoir can be gleaned from this one film; everything else is
mere repetition and elaboration, padding and window-dressing.
If Renoir's political views were unequivocally leftwing, his views on
war were surprisingly ambivalent. He publicly stated that he was
a committed pacifist and yet he also acknowledged that he found Hitler
thoroughly repugnant, hinting that war between France and Nazi Germany
may prove to be the lesser of two evils. This ambivalence is
apparent throughout
La Grande
illusion. Whilst the film is widely (and correctly)
interpreted as an anti-war film, one that powerfully, and yet subtly,
argues the futility of military conflict, it had another purpose, which
was to encourage unity in the French people at a time of national
crisis. If war was imminent and unavoidable, it was best that
France entered the fray as a nation united by common ideals, not divided
by such trivial concerns as race and class. It was a
message that seemed to go down well. When it was first released
in France, in June 1937,
La Grande
illusion was an immense critical and commercial success.
This encouraged Renoir to repeat the message, somewhat more stridently,
in his one great historical epic,
La
Marseillaise (1938), but on that occasion the call to arms
came too late and met with little enthusiasm. After the collapse
of the Popular Front government, France was as divided as it had ever
been; the threat posed by Fascism had grown, and the reality of an
impending war with Germany had sapped the resolve of the French
nation. It was at this point that the reputation of
La Grande illusion began to
suffer, to the point that it came close to being erased from history.
Even before the war started,
La
Grande illusion found its detractors. Joseph Goebbels, the
German Minister of Propaganda, saw the film as highly dangerous, not
only because it featured a sympathetic Jew, but it also portrayed
German soldiers in a way that was (to his way of thinking) highly
unflattering. It was Goebbels who put pressure on Mussolini
to prevent the film from winning an official prize at the 1937 Venice
Biennale (something which prompted the festival jury to create their
own special prize for the film) and it was Goebbels who dubbed the film
Cinematographic Enemy Number One. However, his superior,
Hermann Goering (the head of the Luftwaffe) approved of the film and it
was allowed to be distributed in Germany, minus a few scenes involving
the troublesome Jew. In Italy, the film was banned outright, as
it was in Belgium (at the instigation of the
socialist minister Paul-Henri Spaak - yes, the brother of the man
who scripted the film), prompting a rare anti-Belgian tirade
from Churchill. On the other side of the Atlantic, the reaction
was more positive. President Roosevelt feted it as a film that
"all democrats should see" and it was the first foreign language film
ever to be nominated for an Oscar in the Best Picture category, at the
1939 Academy Awards ceremony.
As hostilities commenced in 1939, the French government appeared to be
more preoccupied with outlawing potentially demoralising films than in
actually winning the war against Germany.
La Grande illusion was one of the
casualties, banned in 1940 for its unwholesome depictions of
fraternisation with the enemy. The ban stayed in force when
France came under Nazi control and, under Goebbels' edict, all known
prints of the film were seized and shipped to Germany for destruction
(fortunately, not all prints were burned - a complete print of the film
was recovered in Munch in 1945). After the Liberation, the
critics hastily revised their opinion of the film and now dismissed it
as anti-Semitic (previously it had been pro-Semitic) and an invitation
to the kind of collaborationist activity which had infected the Vichy
regime and made France complicit in Hitler's war crimes. It was
not until the mid-1950s that the film came to be regarded as one of the
great masterpieces of French cinema, through favourable write-ups by
such influential critics as François Truffaut. The
original negative of the film was thought to have been lost until it
was rediscovered (unlabelled) in the Toulouse
Cinémathèque in the early 1990s, having found its way
there from the Berlin Reichsfilmarchiv vaults some time in the
1960s. Prints struck from this negative in the 1990s were found
to be of exceptional quality, adding further lustre to a film which, by
this time, had come to be regarded as one of the greatest films ever made.
One of the most perplexing things about
La Grande illusion is its
title. It is believed this derived from the book
The Great Illusion by Norman
Angell, a British economist, writer and future Nobel Peace Prize
winner. First published in Britain in 1909, this book argues that
war is futile because it is against the common economic interests of
the countries involved. What exactly is the
illusion that Renoir is alluding
to? Could it be the misguided belief (which many people had in
1914) that the war would be short and comparatively
painless? Could it be the belief that war is an inevitable
fact of life, the only way that nations can resolve their differences
(short of creating something as monstrous as the Eurovision Song
Contest)? The most likely explanation is that it refers to that
miracle of self-delusion that the Great War would be "The War to End
All Wars". By choosing the title he did (and dispensing with the
less portentous original title
Les
Evasions du Capitaine Maréchal), Renoir may simply have
been expressing his view that another major European war was
unavoidable. There will
always
be one more war...
La Grande illusion certainly
has an effective antiwar subtext, but this is perhaps muted by Renoir's
even bigger concern, his preoccupation with class boundaries in
society. The film's central irony is that class is a more powerful
segregator of human beings than race or nationality. It is easier
for soldiers from a working class milieu to understand one another,
whether they speak the same language or not, than for soldiers from
different social strata who have the same mother tongue. Examples
of cross-nationality fraternity abound in the film - from a simple
scene in which a German guard gives his French prisoner his mouth
organ, to the exquisitely moving final segment in which the main
character Maréchal forms a strong emotional bond with a lonely
German widow. By contrast, the aristocratic Capitaine de Boeldieu
finds it impossible to establish any kind of rapport with his officers
from more humble backgrounds, but has no difficulty hitting it off with
his German counterpart Capitaine von Rauffenstein (to the point that
their relationship resembles a parody of a love story).
As he would do in his later
La
Règle du jeu (1939), an even more virulent assault on
the French class system, Renoir reviles class distinction but appears
to accept it as an inevitable consequence of the social order we have
inherited. The class system persists, but that does not mean it
is a static phenomenon. As Von Rauffenstein and Boeldieu are
forced to concede, the one good thing about the Great War was that it
allowed an honourable way out for the vestigial aristocracies of France
and Germany. They had become irrelevant; the world no longer had
any need of them. They must yield their place to the new
aristocrats, the capitalist kings represented here by the nouveau riche
Rosenthal.
Boeldieu is arguably the film's most interesting and ambiguous
character. Whilst he epitomises the class system which Renoir
obviously rails against, he does not allow his class superiority to
override his sense of duty. Even though he seems to be looking
down into a filthy pigsty whenever he addresses his comrades, Boeldieu
is willing to surrender his life to give them a chance of escape.
In doing so, he knows that he must betray his own class, to the chagrin
of Von Rauffenstein who has come to regard him as a
brother. Von Rauffenstein must in turn abandon his class
ties and perform his duty, which is to shoot Boeldieu as he tries to
escape. The dispassionate way in which both Boeldieu and Von
Rauffenstein disregard their common bond in the execution of their duty
emphasises their lack of humanity and confers on both of them a kind of
Fascist subservience to authority. This makes a striking contrast
with the human warmth and kinship that we see among the lower orders,
the riffraff who simply want to get the war over as quickly as possible
so that they can return to a normal life.
With its cold realism and authentic portrayal of life in
prisoner-of-war camps,
La Grande
illusion has far more in common with Renoir's early neo-realist
endeavours than the more romantic films he made after WWII (which were
heavily coloured by his experience in Hollywood, for better or for
worse). Significantly, the film lacks the stylistic
experimentation of Renoir's previous films and is less visually
striking than most of his films of the 1930s. The film's
reputation owes more to the nuanced screenwriting and the contributions
from a superlative cast. Jean Gabin is as perfect in the role of
the proletarian officer Maréchal as Pierre Fresnay is as his
blue-blooded superior Boeldieu - the former exudes a down-to-earth
charm that makes him instantly likeable, the latter an icy aloofness
that makes it hard for an audience to sympathise with him. Their
portrayals feed on our own class prejudices and make us aware that
judging a man by his class alone is among the most foolish of
conceits.
Erich von Stroheim is equally superb as Von Rauffenstein, and brings a
subtle poignancy to a character that, on paper, has little to commend
it. (Renoir was so delighted when Von Stroheim - one of the
legendary filmmakers of the silent era - agreed to appear in the film
that he made substantial last-minute changes to the script to make his
character one of the most important in the film.) Von Stroheim's
imposing physique gives him an unmistakable aura of Nazi superiority,
but by the subtlest of means the actor reveals his character's troubled
inner world, which is disfigured by a hopeless sense of failure and
disillusionment. Similarly, Dalio and Carette bring depth and
complexity to their characters (the former giving what is probably the
most convincing portrayal of a Jew in cinema up until this point),
whilst Dita Parlo comes close to stealing the film in its heartrending
final segment. As duty intervenes once more to separate a man and
a woman who are so obviously right for one another, as two soldiers
trudge through a barren snowy landscape towards an uncertain future, we
are again reminded of the human cost of war, a war that must be fought
because it is easier to swallow the politicians' lies and die as heroes
than to live in peace with our fellow man - that is surely the greatest
illusion...
© James Travers 2011
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Next Jean Renoir film:
La Bête humaine (1938)