For its first hour or so, The Devil, Probably, Robert Bresson’s 1977 film, seems like the most difficult of the inimitable master’s works, for the most banal of reasons: that is, the viewer really just wants to give its putative protagonist a sharp smack in the chops.
The film focuses on a group of Parisian young adults who are, quite reasonably, at furious and impotent odds with The World As It Is Today*. It’s almost ten years since ’68, and as they look about them, things are worse than ever**. They hang out in cathedrals, bookstores, offices, lecture halls; they screen film footage of the destruction of various environments, the clubbing of baby seals, the victims of mercury poisoning in Japan. “These pictures can’t be shown too often,” one character flatly intones while watching some particularly horrific material.
The putatively charismatic not-quite-ringleader of this group, long-haired genius Charles (Antoine Monnier), is, for a time, the most prickly of Bresson’s heroes/heroines. The occasional mulishness of Mouchette in the eponymous film grated on, and eventually shamed, the viewer. The passivity of Au hasard, Balthazar’s Marie shocked, and eventually shamed, the viewer. In Devil, when Charles, after a mocking dialogue with earnest writer Michel (whose girlfriend he’s pretty much absconded with), makes for another young woman’s sports car, telling Michel his acquaintance with her is “comme ci, comme ca,” the viewer’s blood is, I believe, meant to boil.
But about an hour into the film, Bresson pulls a switch, something that makes the viewer appreciate this putatively “austere” and “rigorous” auteur as a screen magician on a par with Melies. When Jonathan Rosenbaum talks about how Bresson’s work “disappears” on home video…well, this very solid DVD from the British label Artificial Eye partially disproves that, but by the same token, I understand that Bresson’s effects are so nuanced and ingeniously subtle that they work best on a very big screen.
In this case, the effect occurs after Charles has a futile session with a shrink (named “Dr. Mime,” in case anyone thought that Bresson had no sense of humor) and then takes a strung-out junkie pal to a sleepover in a cathedral, portable hi-fi in tow, the better to apprehend the presence of God. Said friend raids the cathedral’s coinboxes and flees, leaving Charles to get arrested. It is at this point—the point, incidentally, at which Charles is coming to the conclusion that he will take his own life—that Bresson begins his beatification of Charles. Look at this shot of Charles being interrogated at the station; check out how cinematographer Pasqualino di Santis lights his face:
Having articulated his wish to obliterate himself, and admitted his fear in the face of committing the act, Charles softens; this next shot of him, visiting the flat of a former girlfriend, maybe in the hope of explaining himself, shows a face of his the viewer has never seen:
This softening is not just a function of Bresson’s direction (which is staggeringly, yes, virtuosic, throughout—the fantastic [in several senses of the word] bus sequence, the remarkable aural misdirection between Charles’ gun experiment and the party of friends waiting for him at a dinner), but of Monnier’s performance, which, contrary to what some observe about Bresson’s “models,” is, in the final analysis, a finely calibrated piece of work.
I focus on this particular aspect of The Devil (which a friend of mine used to call “Bresson’s punk rock film”—it was, after all made around the same time that Johnny Rotten sang “Be a man, kill someone, kill yourself”) because, well, it’s just one of many aspects of this gripping, fascinating, challenging, perverse film. I’m working from a well-transferred, extras-free DVD that does not replicate the theatrical experience, but doesn’t betray it, either.
*if you’re in sympathy with this film’s worldview, this CD by Art Bears is probably right up your alley.
**Again, check out those Art Bears! Hell, buy the whole box set!
I sat next to Richard Hell at the Anthology when they showed The Devil, Probably back in 2003. I kind of watched him out of the corner of my eye, watched him watch the movie. He had a half grin on his face the whole time, like he was looking at old footage of himself.
Hell’s a longtime booster of the film, as befits the man who wrote the song “Who Says (It’s Good To Be Alive)?”
“When Jonathan Rosenbaum talks about how Bresson’s work “disappears” on home video…well, this very solid DVD from the British label Artificial Eye partially disproves that, but by the same token, I understand that Bresson’s effects are so nuanced and ingeniously subtle that they work best on a very big screen.”
Maybe that’s why, despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to connect with Bresson’s films at all so far. Okay, “despite my best efforts” means “I’ve seen three of them”, but I am trying, and plan on continuing to do so, but so far everything just plays flat to me. I’m not happy about it, and maybe I just honestly don’t like Bresson’s films, but, well, there it is.
Yes, that “flatness” is there entirely by deliberation; the viewer kind of has to push against it. It’s one of the features of Bresson that led Schrader to term him a “transcendental” stylist. But along with it there’s a ruthless efficiency. Some people complain that Bresson shows too much of people’s feet walking, or hands opening doors, but in fact once you attune to his rhythm you see he never wastes a shot. There’s a reason that his “A Man Escaped” is widely admired by many who have a taste for more conventional suspense thrillers—he really knows what he’s doing. I’d say keep trying. Which are the three you’ve seen so far?
One of my favorite Bressons, not to mention one of Harmony Korine’s favorites too.…
“The Devil, Probably is the penultimate film from Robert Bresson. I have only watched this film once myself but the impression it made on me at the time was quite significant. It is about a young man named Charles (played by the grandson of Jean Renoir) who drifts through the world like a wayward ghost. His rejection of the world leads him down a path of dark corners and suicide solutions. The actors here slink around like sick spiders on a morphine drip. They think a lot, say little, and emote next to nothing. In the beginning we watch a baby seal clubbed to death and this sets the tone for the film. Bresson was in an interesting later phase of life where photographing people’s shoes seemed to be an appropriate mode of conveying the politics of the day. This film was banned from public viewing for 17 years in France.”
I’ve seen “Pickpocket”, “Au Hasard Balthazar” and, just this weekend, “Lancelot of the Lake” (very strange film, that last one). As it happens, either “A Man Escaped” or “L’Argent” was going to be next on my list.
And I knew that the flatness was deliberate – it had to be, since it’s always there, and I’d read a bit about Bresson – it’s just that I haven’t been able to figure out why, or connect to the films in spite of it.
I guess, before I started watching Bresson, I expected his stuff to be more along the lines of Italian neo-realism, which I’m developing an appreciation for. But that ain’t what it is.
Yeah, Bresson’s kind of a law unto himself—no meaningful precedents, disastrous to imitate. It’s interesting to watch his style evolve. “Les Anges du Peche” is a spectacularly good melodrama in a conventional albeit thoroughly accomplished style. In “Les Dames du Bois du Bolougne” a more idiosyncratic voice emerges…and then, wham, “Diary of a Country Priest.”
“Lancelot of the Lake” apparently served as a partial inspiration for “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”!
Oh, the Monty Python connection was crystal clear, believe me. It’s possible that being immediately reminded of “The Holy Grail” by the opening scene of “Lancelot of the Lake” through me for such a loop that I was never able to fully recover, thus ruining any chance I had of appreciating the film. Or maybe not, I don’t know.
Anyway, Netflix is my dealer in such matters, and although I know they don’t have all of Bresson’s work, I do believe they have “Les Dames du Bois du Bolougne”, so maybe it would be interesting to watch that, and then “Diary of a Country Priest”. Maybe seeing the difference would provide some sort of key. (Unfortunately, they don’t have “Les Anges du Peche”, which would help more.)
“threw”. Damn it!
Bill, I think you might find either A MAN ESCAPED or L’ARGENT to be effective ways into Bresson’s world. I know I did. The fact that he’s working within pretty well-understood genres in those two cases helped highlight exactly what it is that he does differently. I also found the commentaries on the Criterion discs for COUNTRY PRIEST, MOUCHETTE and PICKPOCKET really helpful in finding my way in.
Happily, I found Bresson’s films to be impressive and, yes, enjoyable enough to keep me watching until I found the groove. And I’m sure I’ll be able to go back to them for years and keep finding deeper levels of appreciation.
Now I just wish that there were more Bresson screenings out there! Even here in L.A. he’s really under-represented. Are there just no prints available? What gives? I missed COUNTRY PRIEST at the Getty last year, but other than that I don’t think I’ve been aware of any screenings in the past few years. Come on, LACMA, help me out.
Bill, I’d also suggest a couple of short, fairly straightforward books on Bresson, the ones by Keith Reader and Joseph Cunneen. The authors’ enthusiasm will rub off on you, I would bet. Cunneen stresses Bresson’s Catholicism, maybe more than he should, but the “transcendental” world view is definitely an important aspect of his work.
For me, “Country Priest” and “Balthasar” are his greatest films; the Criterion versions, as YND said, have good extras too. Bresson gets a lot darker as he ages, and for me, “L’Argent” is almost too painful to watch again. But in terms of narrative drive, it might be his most accessible.
Hmm… Thanks, YND, Ray and Glenn. If nothing else, you’ve all made me want to keep trying. Maybe I still won’t like Bresson when all is said and done, but I think finding out for sure will be very interesting. I think I will go with “A Man Apart” and “L’Argent” next (and probably sooner than I otherwise would have). And I’ll check out those books, as well. “Short and fairly straightforward”, that’s my speed, all right. How do you know me so well??