Above, Rohmer’s Pauline at the Beach, 1983: from left, Simon de La Brosse, Frank Zappa, Don Van Vliet, Amanda Langlet
You ever wonder why so few critics and cinephiles yoke directors John Farrow and Otto Preminger together? I mean, after all, both directors did substantial work in the film noir genre, using very similar types of plots; in Farrow’s 1950 Where Danger Lives, Robert Mitchum plays a doctor who falls in love with a deranged femme fatale played by Faith Domergue; in Preminger’s 1952 Angel Face Mitchum plays an ambulance driver who falls in love with a deranged femme fatale played by Jean Simmons. Beyond subject matter, the directors shared stylistic traits, including a fondness for the long take; see the bravura one-shot climax of Farrow’s Danger, in a border hotel room and any number of shots in Preminger’s 1945 Fallen Angel. Am I carving out a new road in film scholarship even as we speak? No, because when all is said and done, some superficial similarities aside, the two oeuvres are not, in point of fact, germane to each other.
I bring this up because, looking at the coverage of the death of Eric Rohmer, I spotted what I fear will become a trend, in this sentence from Boston Globe critic Wesley Morris’ otherwise unobjectionable appreciation of Rohmer: “You could see him, platonically, in My Dinner With Andre, and completely in the mumblecore movie of your choice.” Now it’s entirely conceivable that Andre director Louis Malle picked up some solutions about turning talk into cinema from Rohmer, although it’s also likely that he had some fairly definite ideas of his own about it as well. You will likely not be surprised that my problem is with the “mumblecore” comparison, which I find facile at best and near-obscene at worst.
Setting aside the fact that many filmmakers saddled with the “mumblecore” rubric increasingly (and probably rightfully) reject it, let’s look at some specifics. Andrew Bujalski’s work seems the most overtly influenced by Rohmer’s, and his subject matter, life and love among the twenty-somethings (it’s worth noting here that Bujalski’s characters are by and large more “bohemian” than Rohmer’s), is very close to what Rohmer treated almost exclusively in his ’80s work. A lot of what happens in Bujalski’s films seems to be based on an inversion of Rohmer; Bujalski’s characters speak hesitantly, ambivalently, while Rohmer’s are full of (often quite silly) opinions and notions that they express in an almost hyper-articulate fashion. But I never think of Rohmer when I watch a Bujalski film—never. His work lacks both Rohmer’s lightness and its particular profundity. His way of using the camera is almost diametrically opposed to Rohmer’s. I can allow though, that Bujalski’s vision (which I’m not rejecting here, incidentally) is definitely informed by Rohmer’s.
But I don’t see much of Rohmer in the work of Aaron Katz, the putative mumblecore director whose work I find the most formally advanced. An interesting, well-conceived hybrid of Cassavetes and Jarmusch, in some respects, yes. But mostly his own vision, his own ideas.
And then there’s Swanberg. I know Morris doesn’t name him, but he does say “mumblecore movie of your choice.” So no. No way. To hold any one of Swanberg’s slop-shots against a composition from PIalat is bad enough; put one up against an image composed by Rohmer and frequent cinematographer Néstor Almendros and, you know, forget about it. And don’t even start on the dialogue.
My point being, if some of these filmmakers were inspired in part by Rohmer to pick up their cameras, that’s one thing and one thing only; it doesn’t necessarily mean that they actually learned anything from him. And also, if you want to see Rohmer, watch Rohmer. There’s finally nobody like him.
By the way, I contributed an appreciation of Rohmer to today’s Los Angeles Times; it is here, if you’re interested.
I would say Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise and Before Sunset are closer to Rohmer than anything related to mumblecore. Also I don’t see the comparison with My Dinner With Andre. Yes, it has a lot of talk and yes Rohmer’s films have a lot of talk but they sort of end there in comparison.
@ MattL: Certainly agree about Linklater, who isn’t reticent about his admiration for Rohmer. Not to mention Bresson. He does know his stuff, and how to use it.
It probably isn’t fair to lump Rohmer with mumblecore in that way any more than one artist or group of artists with another. (Calling Neil Young the “grandfather of grunge” used to irk me as well.) But if some young mumblecore fans (or aspiring filmmakers) read the Boston Globe and seek out Rohmer as a result, then no harm, no foul. Maybe one of them might learn something. Risking blasphemy here, but Rohmer may need mumblecore at the end of the day. Like Woody Guthrie needs Dylan. No, I’m not comparing mumblecore to Dylan.
I’m just trying to be a little positive. Remember your blood pressure, Glenn.
You know, both Walter Hill and Sir Carol Reed have instances of ferris wheels in their respective oeuvres…
It is hard to square the mumbledly square pegs with L’Eric, beyond an undeniable self-regard (making Rohmer equivalent, in this respect, to Cassavettes, Guy Ritchie, every overrated episode of Mad Men, & bleeding cetera). Rohmer’s characters are also at once relentlessly and serenely self-analytical, and the philosophical glow the develops from those two-handed dialogues (almost exclusively) in his films have little cinematic referent before or since – I sorta hate The Mother and the Whore, starting and far from ending with that awful title, but it’s the only rough demi-equivalent that springs to mind. And I sorta adore her, but I’m confident Ms. Gerwig is never going to be cast in any sort of rough demi-equivalent like Greta in the Afternoon.
He isn’t any sort of rough demi neither, for all the jes’ sittin’ around talkin’ in both director’s films, but I was always tickled by Tarantino’s quote that he created a following for Rohmer in Manhattan Beach during his cinematic apprenticship in that video store. Obviously, there’s a direct aesthetic line to be drawn between Chloe in the Afternoon and Kill Bill, Pt. II…
Good eye on some killer vinyl, Glenn! I always loved Beefheart marinated in Catholic guilt. Oh, and Chris. O. – Neil IS the godfather of grunge, though as for his grandfatherly status, I’d want to see a blood test. Seriously, the homage The Bridge: A Tribute to Neil Young is as clear a statement as one could hope of grunge solidarity with Neil’s ragged glory/amplification. I wish he’d score every Jarmusch film!
I recall an observation that Armond White made about Rohmer in a mid-90s Film Comment piece, that there are things about being 25 you can only understand by living to be 45. Forgoing any critical comparison, none of the mumblecore directors have yet lived that long.
This is completely off topic, but I thought many of y’all might be interested to hear about this:
For those of you who have access to the Encore Western Channel, this Thursday they will be running an episode of the TV series “The Virginian” that was written and directed by Samuel Fuller. In his autobiography he discusses the difficulties of dealing with television people, but says that the producer liked the show enough to offer him more episodes (which he turned down). The guest star is Lee Marvin. I have to think this is at least worth a look for Fuller/Marvin fans.
one american director that seems closer to Rohmer than these mumblecore people is W. Stillman ( where is now?) especially Metropolitan and Barcelona. He, too, has a flair for young actresses
Audrey Rouget ( Caroline Farina), I love you !
Thanks, Steve. Setting the DVR with a quickness…
James, maybe he’s the grandfather of AutoTune as well. Anyone remember the vocoder stuff he did on TRANS?
Glenn, Joe Swanberg’s shots are no more casusl, and much more expressive, than those of Assayas and Desplechin. But I agree that Rohmer is not the father or godfather of mumblecore; if there’s one thing that characterizes their films, it’s the sense that they’re filming themselves, their milieu, their lives, and Rohmer didn’t do that–he filmed his ideas, his emotions, even his desires.
@Richard, I absolutely do not concur with your first point. Your second, however, is both spot-on and crucial.
While I’m a big fan of all three of the “mumblecore” filmmakers that Glenn mentioned, not to mention on friendly terms with a couple of them, I too cannot really see the Rohmer connection. And I think this piece was as good as any in terms of also demonstrating how very little these filmmakers (so often dismissed in toto) have in common.
@Richard and Glenn -
Richard’s first point is fatuous nonsense, especially in regards to Desplechin, who misses as often as he hits, but always does so with wit and bravaura (and when he does hit, it’s brilliant), whereas Swanberg’s cameraman hit his first milestone of “basic competence” with Nights and Weekends.
His second point illustrates (inadvertantly) precisely what is wrong with Swanberg’s cinema – a depiction of life that manages to leave out desire, perspective, or any significant ideas.
Hey man, can’t Bill Chinnock get a name check in that still photo caption? Not too many rock and rollers from Maine you know.