Film Review
By the mid-1930s, Jean Renoir's interest in the problems of the
proletariat had led him to become actively involved in leftwing
politics.
After contributing to the Communist propaganda piece
La
Vie est à nous (1936), Renoir made his most overtly
political film,
Le Crime de Monsieur Lange
(1936), which was released just a few months before the Front Populaire
came to power, bringing with it significant improvements in workers'
rights (notably paid holidays). It was in this all-too brief
period of national optimism that Renoir embarked on one of his sunniest
films, one that reflects the euphoria of the moment but - somewhat
prophetically - leaves a sour aftertaste.
Partie de campagne is a hymn to the
transience of love, but it also serves a metaphor for the futility of
human aspirations, and it was not long after the film was shot that the
idealism of the Front Populaire was completely decimated by the wider
political realities of the time.
When it is seen today,
Partie de
campagne (a.k.a.
A Day in the
Country) appears to be a flawless piece of cinema, the most
perfect distillation of Renoir's art, despite its brevity (it runs to
just under 40 minutes). But of all Renoir's films it is the one
that had the most troubled history, and if it had been left to Renoir
it would most probably never have seen the light of day.
Originally, Renoir conceived it as one half of an anthology film
consisting of two fifty-minute adaptations of stories by Guy de
Maupassant, who was incidentally a friend of his father, the painter
Auguste Renoir. As it happened, an appalling spell of bad weather
in the summer of 1936 brought massive delays to the location filming of
Partie de campagne, causing an
eight-day shoot to be extended to almost seven weeks and the film to go
massively over-budget. The cast were so frustrated by the endless
delays that they ended up hating each other, and murder was in the air
when Renoir turned up one day to announce that he was abandoning the
film so that he could start work on
Les Bas-fonds.
With Renoir otherwise engaged, the two studio interior scenes set in
Dufour's shop (providing the prologue and pre-epilogue) were never
filmed, leaving producer Pierre Braunberger with an incomplete and
potentially unmarketable film. Determined to salvage something
from it, Braunberger commissioned Jacques Prévert to write an
original script that included as much of Renoir's footage for the
aborted
Partie de campagne as
possible. Prévert's script radically changed the plot and
tone of Renoir's film, turning it into a tragicomedy in which the focus
was shifted from Henriette to her father, now recast as a capitalist
villain. Renoir had disliked working with Prévert on
Le Crime de Monsieur Lange and so
refused to direct the film, which was soon shelved.
After the war, Braunberger again sought to release the film, at a time
when Renoir's pre-WWII films were experiencing a highly favourable
reappraisal. Renoir was still in America and had absolutely no
interest in the project, so this final attempt to resurrect
Partie de campagne was left to his
former editor Marguerite Renoir. The latter's earlier edit of the
film had been destroyed by the Germans, but the negatives had been
preserved by the Cinématèque française. Two
inter-titles were added to replace the missing scenes and Joseph Kosma
provided a suitably lyrical score, which included a haunting wordless
song performed by Germaine Montero. When the film was first
screened at the Festival de Cannes in September 1946, it
met with a lukewarm reception, but the critical reaction
on its first public release was more enthusiastic and it was
hailed as one of Renoir's finest films.
Partie de campagne serves as a
prelude to Renoir's subsequent class-conscious masterpieces,
La Grande illusion (1937) and
La
Règle du jeu (1939). In many of his films,
Renoir portrays class as an impenetrable barrier to human happiness and
fulfilment, and seems to regard this as one of the great tragedies of
modern life. Although it is much lighter in tone than
Maupassant's original story, and portrays all of the characters in a
more sympathetic light, Renoir's
Partie
de campagne still retains something of Maupassant's contempt for
bourgeois etiquette, albeit with a more humane and forgiving
edge. The final sequence of the film, in which Henriette meets
Henri for the last time and realises what her middleclass propriety has
cost her, contains the most bitterly poignant moment of any Renoir film.
The fact that the entire film was shot on location (on the banks of the
Loing and Essonne, tributaries of the Seine near Montigny, just outside
Paris) gives it a unique character which is so intensely evocative of
the impressionistic paintings of the director's father. The
film's most celebrated sequence, in which Henriette plays on a swing,
is an obvious reference to Auguste Renoir's famous painting
La Balançoire and Claude
Renoir's sunny photography is suffused throughout with the dazzling
vitality of the impressionists' work. The bucolic setting is
dominated by the river, the river that gives Henriette her freedom, her
one brief moment of fulfilment, and then cruelly snatches it away from
her. In some memorable long tracking shots, the river takes on a
character of its own, and the film follows its slowly undulating
rhythm, matching its ever-changing moods beneath a capricious summer
sky.
Jean Renoir's use of the camera is particularly noteworthy in two
sequences. The first is the one in the inn near the start of the
film, when Rodolphe and Henri push open the window shutters and the
focus moves instantly from them to the countryside in the
background. Renoir could never have achieved the same effect with
a simple cut - the spectator is instantly propelled into the idyllic
landscape in which the rest of the film is contained. Then comes
the stunning sequence which shows Henriette (Sylvia Bataille at her
most radiant) amusing herself on her swing. As the camera moves
with her, with the background somersaulting giddily around her, we
cannot help but share her sense of exhilaration, her joyful release
from the constraints of bourgeois respectability.
As was frequently the case in his early films, the tight budget obliged
Renoir to employ his friends in place of professional actors. He
himself makes a fleeting appearance as the inn owner, along with his
14-year-old son Alain and companion Marguerite Renoir (née
Houllé), who edited most of his films from 1931 onwards.
Sylvia Bataille's husband, the noted philosopher Georges Bataille, has
a walk-on part as a student priest, accompanied by Jacques Becker,
Renoir's first assistant, and the photographer Henri
Cartier-Bresson. Two other names to conjure with are Yves
Allègret and Luchino Visconti, who worked as assistants on the
film, shooting sequences when Renoir was away preparing his next film.
A work of exquisite charm and touching lyricism,
Partie de campagne is easily one of
the most captivating of Jean Renoir's films, and it hardly deserves the
unfortunate epithet 'unfinished' that is casually attached to it.
The film's brevity gives it a focus and intensity that is rare in
cinema and serves to emphasise the most essential aspect of its story,
which is the tragically ephemeral nature of love and life. The
film resounds with those qualities that made Renoir such a great poet
and filmmaker - his humanity, his love of nature and his understanding
of human frailty - whilst at the same time encapsulating everything
about his art and philosophy for life. Far from being unfinished,
Partie de campagne is among
the most complete, most perfect poems cinema has ever given us.
© James Travers 2013
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Next Jean Renoir film:
La Grande illusion (1937)