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Lady and the Duke, The
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| Year: |
2001
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Director: |
Eric Rohmer
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| Stars: |
Lucy Russell, Jean-Claude Dreyfus, Alain Libolt, Charlotte Véry, Rosette, Léonard Cobiant, François Marthouret, Caroline Morine, Héléna Dubiel, Laurent Le Doyen, Georges Benôit
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| Genre: |
Drama, Historical |
| Rating: |
  7 (from 1 vote) |
| Review: |
Grace Elliott (Lucy Russell), a well-connected English aristocrat living in Paris in 1792, is caught in the tumultous events of the French Revolution. She was once the lover of the Duke of Orléans (Jean-Claude Dreyfus), cousin of King Louis XVI, who remains her closest friend and confidante. Yet while the Duke champions the revolution, Grace’s sympathies remain steadfastly with the monarchy. When Grace risks her own life to save a nobleman from arrest and certain death at the guillotine, the Duke is appalled but proves loyal enough to keep her secret. However, Grace is aghast when the Duke casts the decisive vote in favour of executing the king. Soon both their lives are placed in danger amidst the bloody events of the Reign of Terror.
French New Wave auteur Eric Rohmer - whose real name is actually Maurice Schérer - is feted foremost for his many humorously perceptive studies of romantic relationships yet occasionally delved into period drama, often putting an idiosyncratic spin on a genre that remains a staple of French cinema. With The Lady and the Duke, Rohmer utilised a twenty-first century variation on a conceit he had previously employed in Perceval le Gallois (1978). Here his characters are digitally composited onto lavish hand-painted sets depicting Paris, Lady Grace’s estate and the surrounding countryside. The result is somewhat akin to viewing a vast painted canvas wherein the figures come magically to life, imparting a unique, almost storybook tone, accentuated by Rohmer’s reliance on narration and occasional insertion of title cards. Many critics lauded his audacity, yet while undoubtedly striking, the device does occasionally distance viewers from the story, particularly as the tone darkens, growing increasingly claustrophobic and suspenseful.
Some criticised the film for being talky, which seems moot given this is Rohmer we are talking about. Whilst somewhat genteel, the film is nevertheless unflinching in depicting the violence and cruelty wrought by the Reign of Terror. Based upon the memoirs of the real Grace Elliott, this is among the surprisingly few French films dealing with this turbulent period and drew some controversy in France for its unusually pro-monarchist stance. Rohmer’s sympathies seem squarely with Grace Elliot. He draws the revolutionaries largely as uncouth murderous brutes, while his heroine emerges as courageous, kindly, resourceful, intelligent and articulate, a woman further ennobled by her suffering.
No surprise this came across as a provocative stance given so much of the French culture - including arguably the Nouvelle Vague - derives from the founding principles of the republic: liberty, equality and fraternity. Yet Rohmer asserts that for all the positive aspects of the revolution, there is no denying that Robespierre and his cronies were responsible for some hideous crimes. At one point the Duke remarks that revolutionaries are not savages, but Rohmer shows the revolution as a lapse into barbarism and inhumanity. As lead actress Lucy Russell remarked in several interviews around the time of the film’s release, every nation has problems confronting those occasionally shameful episodes from their past. The film stands as an effective counterpoint to the many more celebratory depictions of the French revolution.
As so often with Rohmer, the focus is foremost on interior conflict rather than exterior action. It is a character study, exceptionally well played by both Russell and co-star Jean-Claude Dreyfus, revolving around a fascinating central relationship. Both characters are driven by the determination to survive, yet while Grace clings to her humanity, the Duke clumsily fumbles (rather than abandons) as a result of what Rohmer implies is a foolish political power play. In spite of their political differences and spirited debates, relations remain cordial between the two. The Duke continually fawns over Grace but though she eventually glimpses his true self-serving nature, her response is pity rather than disdain. For in many ways, the Duke proves to be as much a prisoner of the revolution as she, swept along by terrible events over which he has no control.
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| Reviewer: |
Andrew Pragasam
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| Eric Rohmer (1920 - 2010)
One of the directors of the French New Wave, Eric Rohmer, like his contemporaries, started his film career as a critic at the magazine Cahiers du Cinema, and after a few shorts made his first feature with Le signe du lion. My Night at Maud's was his first international hit, long after the other New Wave directors had made their initial impact, and set out his style as that of the "talk piece" where his characters, often young and middle class, conversed at great length in a way that exposed various truths about life as Rohmer saw them. His works were often grouped into cycles, and included Claire's Knee, Pauline at the Beach, Le Rayon Vert and his last, made when he was in his late eighties, The Romance of Astree and Celadon. |
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