Grand designs… La Règle du jeu (1938), BFI Blu-ray, Out Now!

 

Today everyone lies. Pharmaceutical fliers, governments, the radio, the movies, the newspapers. So why shouldn't simple people like us lie as well?

Jean Renoir’s game has rules but you have to work them out for yourselves, doubly difficult when your French is as poor as mine, but you’re soon submerged in a subtitle-enhanced battle of meaning with the director and his outstanding players. This film nearly didn’t survive to beguile and befuddle subsequent generations as, out of favour pre-war it languished in vaults subsequently destroyed by the allies before being recreated from various sources in the late fifties under the supervision of its director. Now, recently restored in 4K by La Cinémathèque française and Les Grands Films Classiques, it is now released by the BFI on Blu-ray for the first time in the UK.

The rules of the game are whatever the people at the top say they are, whether they are upstairs or down, in this microcosm of French society as it prepared for hardships with neighbouring fascism in Spain, Italy and Germany. The power that be disliked the film’s tone and whilst it had already been sliced down to just over 80 minutes by its producers on release, it was soon withdrawn in favour of more propagandist and light-hearted fare; who wanted to see a negative take on the elite that was about to be their only chance of survival?

The films as it now stands comes in at 107 minutes and is, of course, much closer to Renoir’s intended vision. It’s still ranked very highly in Sight and Sounds greatest hits and so it should be as it represents an extraordinary feet of imagination and construction with a tone mixing the fantastic and prosaic and characters who lie to each other and themselves, not to mention you and me. I’d not seen it for years but whilst the hunting scenes remained grimly familiar – many animals were harmed in the making of this film – I’d not really absorbed the technical fluency of the sets, the cast of dozens in constant motion, and the lengthy takes designed to allow the performances full expression.

Nora Gregor greets the heroic Roland Toutain in her character's controlled way...

Renoir uses the deepest focus, to show his many characters as they transition across frames within frames, in and out of dramatic focus in a physically theatrical way and also so painterly; la pomme does not fall too far from l'arbre peut-être? Renoir was fascinated in the group interactions, from and his sets are alive with motion and character and you can’t miss a second.

The cast and the playing is something akin to an archly surreal British farce or the most screwed up screwball comedy; rapid fire dialogue but mixed messages and casual, covert intent. Almost everyone lies and confesses to lying, most change with the wind loving this or that person on a whim, all confused, spoilt or spoiled. So many satirical British films tried to cover the same ground in the swinging, snide sixties but almost everyone failed, they just didn’t swing with the meaning enough and they failed to charm… the only thing that matters in such circumstances.

There’s none more charming than Nora Gregor, who started in the silent era staring in Dreyer’s ground-breaking Michael (1924) and more, as Christine, Marquise de la Chesnaye, loved by most of the men and yet disconnected from febrile affection. This was certainly not the case amongst the viewing public, an Austrian actor who spoke little French and who, to quote David Jenkins and Trevor Johnston from their superb commentary, was colloquially referred to as “that bitch from Austria!” She was, however, exactly what Renoir needed, actual nobility – she was married to a Prince Ernst Rüdiger von Starhemberg – and a sympathetic Germanic character just as Erich von Stroheim had been in the previous year’s Le Grande Illusion.

Marcel Dalio

Christine is the wife of Robert, Marquis de la Chesnaye as played by Marcel Dalio, who projects a World-weary joie de vivre and a resignation that despite his wealth and position, his beautiful wife and his vivacious long-term lover Geneviève (Mila Parély), his one true love might be his recording collection – close to the bone this - and his musical automatons. Having nearly everything the one thing he lacks is control and his people are not as predictable nor as dependable as his toys.

 

One of Christine’s oldest friends, a man who knew her conductor father well, is Octave (Jean Renoir) who is the fizz that makes his friends emotional bubbles burst. He’s a disappointed man, who’s mind races far to fast for his achievements to ever catch up and who casually delivers one of the film’s most telling statements when discussing Robert’s shellac; The awful thing about life is this: Everybody has their reasons. Reasons, of course, that will always lead to disappointment and disconnections.

 

One man with very specific reasons is André Jurieux (Roland Toutain) who arrives in his aeroplane at the film’s start having crossed the Atlantic in an attempt to impress Christine. André forms one angle of a love pentangle – at least – with the subject of his amour in most of the men’s hearts not to mention other’s loyalty. He immediately expresses public regret that she is not there to greet him and is lucky when his mutual friend, and everyone else’s, Octave arranges for him to attend a weekend shoot at the la Chesnaye’s country retreat and all of the ingredients are brought together.

Man versus Animals

As above so below and Christine’s maid Lisette (the sparkling Paulette Dubost) is pursued by newly hired poacher-turned-servant Marceau (Julien Carette) in spite of her husband, Robert's gamekeeper Schumacher (Gaston Modot) looming jealously large. Then there are a dozen other players who contribute a richness to the story in a masterful interplay of looks and lines that are as leanly impactful as possible.

The centrepiece is the animal hunt which is painful to watch especially the slow death of one unlucky rabbit. Renoir was a nature lover and this section was directed by the assistant director under his instruction, he couldn’t bear seeing the slaughter; and indeed, plenty of animals were injured and killed in the making of this film. At the end, the field is strewn with the bodies of the rabbits and birds, the actual dead, lying like so many fallen soldiers. Meanwhile the hunters laugh and joke, detached from the morality of the situation and numb to the suffering of others be they animal or even human.

The rest of the film demonstrates the latter in something akin to not so much a comedy of errors but of confused indifference… true depth of feeling is hard to fathom as the rules of etiquette, the laws of the jungle and the trembling French lower lip are exhibited in microscopic detail. It’s such a curiously conflicted world; do as thy won’t, shall be the whole of the law even with power and the money and the freedom that you’d expect goes with both.

Marcel Dalio and Jean Renoir

As you expect from the BFI, the special features are indeed très spéciaux:

·         Newly commissioned commentary by film writers David Jenkins and Trevor Johnston

·         Image par image: La Règle du jeu (1987, 43 mins): a detailed analysis from Jean Douchet and Pierre Oscar Lévy

·         Leslie Caron on La Règle du jeu (2016, 18 mins): the actor introduces the film as part of the Screen Epiphanies series at BFI Southbank – an absolute delight!!

·         La Vie est à nous (1936, 64 mins): French Communist Party election film depicting political turmoil and the threat of fascism, with creative input from Jean Renoir and Henri Cartier-Bresson, among others

·         Pheasant Shooting (1913, 1 min): newsreel item on the start of the shooting season in a Norfolk game reserve

·         Society on the Moors (1921, 1 min): newsreel footage of Lord and Lady Savile’s shooting party on the Yorkshire Moors near Hebden Bridge, where there’s brass there’s crass!

·         Stills gallery

·         An illustrated booklet with a new essay by David Thompson and an essay by Ginette Vincendeau originally published in Sight and Sound; notes on the special features and credits. This is with the first pressing only so, be quick!

You can order the set direct from the BFI Shop online or in person and, it is indeed one of the most significant films ever made and all the more enjoyable for that; you won’t waste a single second bringing this into your sitting room.

 

"I give up. You can fight hatred but not boredom..."