Film Review
Best known for creating the popular French television series
Louis Page, the writer Christophe
Chevalier made his directing debut in 2008 with a musical documentary,
Génération Electro.
This he followed up with a sparse but beguiling little film that was
made to coincide with the tricentenary of the birth of Switzerland's
most famous son, Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
Le Nez dans le ruisseau may be a
modest work (so modest that it almost went unnoticed when it was
released in 2012) but it has depth and charm and reminds us that
Rousseau's ideas are as relevant today as ever they were. Anyone
familiar with Victor Hugo's novel
Les
Misèrables (or at least the stage musical that it
inspired) will realise that the film's curious title derives from
Gavroche's famous song:
Je suis
tombé par terre, C'est la faute à Voltaire, Le nez dans
le ruisseau, C'est la faute à... [Rousseau].
The three main characters in the film all have something of Rousseau's
free-spirited temperament about them - a learned philosophy professor
whose closest companion is a cat he calls Diderot (pause for comic
effect), a nature-loving little boy who appears to be wise beyond his
years and an individualistic TV reporter who has suddenly realised how
vacuous and unfulfilled her life is. Of these three, only one
will emerge as a true disciple of Rousseau, the one who is least
corrupted by civilisation and therefore has the greatest chance of
living a full and happy life, guided not by reason, but by his natural
instincts. Rousseau was no great fan of civilisation and regarded
it as something inherently bad, a belief that informed much of his
thinking and allowed him to live a thoroughly egocentric but generally
fulfilled life on the margins of society. Chevalier's film poses
an interesting question: is it possible today to follow this example or
have we become so wedded to consumerism and other social norms that no
one can ever live as freely and honestly as Rousseau did?
Le nez dans le ruisseau may
deal with profound themes revolving around Rousseauian notions of
fulfilment and identity but it has the apparent simplicity of a child's
fable, and therein lies much of its appeal. Sami Frey and
Liam Kim make an enchanting pair as the dusty old philosopher professor
and the wild child who appears to be the living embodiment of
Rousseau's theories. The master-pupil relationship which is
beautifully rendered by the film is subtly inverted when the supposed
expert on Rousseau realises how much he can learn from the untainted
younger mind, most notably a deeper awareness of the importance for
human beings to remain in contact with the natural world. The
film may be imperfect in many respects (some of the acting is sub-soap
opera standard and the score is hideously grand and intrusive) but it
resonates with truth and meaning. There could hardly be a more
fitting cinematic tribute to one of the finest intellects of the 18th
century, a man whose impact on western democracy and modern thought is
incalculable.
© James Travers 2013
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
Tasked with making a documentary to commemorate the three hundredth
anniversary of the birth of the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau,
Marie, a television journalist, visits the Swiss town of Confignon
which he once visited. Here, she encounters a solitary
ten-year-old boy named Tom who shows an uncanny understanding of
Rousseau's ideas. Intrigued, Marie contacts Professor Stohler, a
world authority on Rousseau's life and work, and persuades him to
interview Tom on camera. At first reluctant to get involved,
Stohler has a change of heart and is surprised to discover a kindred
sprit in the precocious little boy...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.