La Reine Margot (1994)
Directed by Patrice Chéreau

Film Review

The highpoint of Patrice Chéreau's compact but creditable career as a filmmaker is this lavish period production based on Alexandre Dumas's 1845 novel La Reine Margot, a work of French literature that has often been repudiated for its grotesque distortion of historical fact.  Like Dumas, Chéreau appears not to be concerned with historical accuracy and is happy to perpetuate the myth that the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre was instigated by one person, Catherine de Medici, here portrayed as one of the most evil females in history.  Chéreau's longstanding association with the theatre and opera manifests itself in the heady theatricality of both the performances and the design, which culminates in one of the most spectacularly overblown sequences in French cinema, the bloody Huguenot massacre of 1572.

It is hard, if not impossible, to fully appreciate the artistic merits of Chéreau's La Reine Margot without having first read Dumas's novel immediately beforehand.  Chéreau and his co-screenwriter Danièle Thompson make no concessions to those who are not familiar with the novel, abridging the narrative and skipping character intros to the point that the film risks appearing like a frenzied montage of unrelated incidents to the uninitiated.   Chéreau's intention was, evidently, not to tell a coherent, seamlessly structured story but rather to convey something of the savage brutality and manic hysteria that accompanied one of the most horrific periods in French history.  The constantly roaming camera, the abrupt editing, the endless display of lust, butchery and political chicanery all convey a sense of sensual overload as the whole world teeters on the brink of blood-soaked anarchy.  The screen is awash with theatrical gore, every killing calculated to deliver the maximum visceral jolt, and it is hard to sit through Chéreau's twenty-minute long account of the Massacre without feeling nauseous and disgusted, as much by the film as by the harrowing events it depicts.

Yet, far from being a mindless spectacle of gratuitous violence, La Reine Margot is an intensely involving piece of film drama.  Chéreau's reputation as one of his country's leading theatrical directors made it easy for him to assemble casts of extraordinary calibre for his films and here he is particularly well served.  Isabelle Adjani, at the time the most highly regarded actress in France, was a perfect choice for the central role of Marguerite de Valois, her Margot being a picture of fragile innocence that brutally reflects the savagery of her time.  Daniel Auteuil, whilst clearly too old for the part, is equally compelling as the politically naive Henri de Navarre, another complex character whose humanity seems misplaced in this era of manic bigotry and murderous intrigue.

And who better to play the neurotically hypochondriac Charles IX than Jean-Hugues Anglade, whose sensitivity and range as a performer had previously been exploited to the full by Chéreau on his earlier film L'Homme blessé (1983)?   As the wicked Catherine de Medici Virna Lisi comes close to stealing the show, turning in a powerful yet extremely subtle portrayal of calculating evil beneath which we can just detect a glimmer of humanity and maternal devotion.  As the most noble character in the film, Vincent Perez has a glow of sanctity about him, which contrasts vividly with the sheer nastiness of the fiends around him who seem to revel in their depravity like pigs wallowing in their own filth.  Jean-Claude Brialy is a surprisingly effective choice for the part of the Admiral Coligny (whose assassination attempt triggered the Massacre), with Dominique Blanc, Pascal Greggory and Bruno Todeschini lending their talents to an exceptional supporting cast.

It is worth noting that this is not the first adaptation of Dumas's historically biased novel.  Jean Dréville had previously adapted it as La Reine Margot (1954), a.k.a. A Woman of Evil, with Jeanne Moreau in the lead role of Marguerite de Valois and Françoise Rosay at the height of her powers as the deliciously evil Catherine de Medici.  Previously there had been two silent French versions made before WWI, both now all but forgotten.  For those who are not familiar with the novel, Dréville's film is certainly easier to digest than Chéreau's frenetic visual romp but it doesn't have anything like the same visceral impact.  Chéreau's film may be a challenge for some but there is no other film that provides a more palpable rendition of the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre.

On its first release, critical reaction to the film was mixed but generally positive and it proved to be a substantial box office success both in France (where it attracted an audience of just over two million) and in the United States (which was treated to a truncated version of the film).  At the 1994 Festival de Cannes, Adjani was a favourite for the Best Actress award, so there was widespread consternation when Virna Lisi took the prize (evil triumphs again).  Adjani was compensated with the Best Actress César the following year, one of four wins out of a total of twelve nominations.  Other Césars went to Anglade and Lisi for their supporting roles, and also the costume design and cinematography.  In spite of this success, it would be four years before Patrice Chéreau made his next film, the equally laudable Ceux qui m'aiment prendront le train (1998).

Film Synopsis

Paris, August, 1572 - a troubled time in the history of France, a country scarred by interminable religious wars.  To appease the Protestants, the Catholic queen mother Catherine de Medici arranges a marriage between her daughter, Margot, and the King of Navarre, Henri.  What was intended as a gesture of goodwill merely heightens tensions between the two religious factions, and when an attempt is made on the life of the statesman Coligny, the Huguenots conspire to drive France into another bloody war.  To prevent this, Catherine de Medici gives her assent to a massacre in which tens of thousands of Protestants will be slaughtered in Paris over a period of four days.  Amidst all this chaos and carnage, Margot pursues an intense love affair with a young soldier, La Môle, as her mother turns her mind to the matter of how to dispose of the man who most threatens her dynasty, Henri de Navarre...