Demy, Deneuve, Dorleac on the set of The Young Girls of Rochefort |
THE ESSENTIAL JACQUES DEMY (Many films by Jacques Demy)
Criterion Collection, Blu-ray Box Set, Release Date July 22, 2014
Review by Christopher S. Long
Jacques Demy is mostly known in America
for his wildly popular musical “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg”
(1964) and its less commercially successful but still beloved
sequel-in-spirit “The Young Girls of Rochefort” (1967). Close
identification with two accessible films in a populist genre has, in
an odd way, complicated Demy's legacy. Would a true French New Wave
director spin such candy-colored confections? If Demy wanted
admission to the politically-charged Left Bank Group (along with his
wife, the brilliant director Agnès
Varda), shouldn't he ditch the dancing and get didactic?
Demy has not exactly been forgotten
since his death in 1990; the tireless and passionate advocacy of
Agnès Varda has assured
that will never happen. But being the square peg in every film
movement into which he was awkwardly fit (if, for no other reason,
than by time and geography) has often consigned him to sidebar status
in film surveys; we praise filmmakers for being unique voices, but in
what context do you write or teach about the lone wolves?
The Cherbourg-Rochefort nexus so
dominates the discussion that it's easy to overlook the fact that
Demy was not introduced to the world as the twirler of pastel-hued
parapluies. Demy's first two feature films are sober (though not
uniformly somber) black-and-white studies of the ravages of gambling,
though in very different forms.
Anouk Aimee in Lola |
“Lola” is set in the port city of
Nantes, Demy's childhood hometown, and as with many of his films the
city serves as a major supporting character. The various players
crisscross its roads and its intimate outdoor shopping malls, meeting
in a series of carefully calculated coincidences. At every point in
town, first love claims many victims. In one of the most heartfelt
sequences, an American sailor who has been (hopelessly) wooing Lola
takes a budding young girl (also named Cecile) about to celebrate her
fourteenth birthday to the town fair; a modest and innocent gesture
of kindness by him, but a moment that will define the girl's entire
life and provide a crystalline memory to which no other man will ever
measure up. A surprise happy ending provides a Rorschach blot for
both romantics and cynics who will either accept it at face value or
suspect that tragedy must lurk around the next turn; fast forward to
Demy's “Model Shop” (1969, not included in this set) to find out
if anyone really hit his or her longshot bet.
The gambling is more conventional in Demy's second feature “Bay of Angels” (1963). Jean (Claude Mann) is an unassuming young bank clerk whose curiosity is piqued by a co-worker bragging about a big win at the casino. A little luck at the local tables prompts him to hop the train to the Riviera where he encounters the enigmatic Jackie (a platinum blonde Jeanne Moreau), a woman firmly in the grips of her gambling addiction and savoring every minute of the wild ride: “Gambling is my religion!”
A blonde Jeanne Moreau in Bay of Angels |
The gambling is more conventional in Demy's second feature “Bay of Angels” (1963). Jean (Claude Mann) is an unassuming young bank clerk whose curiosity is piqued by a co-worker bragging about a big win at the casino. A little luck at the local tables prompts him to hop the train to the Riviera where he encounters the enigmatic Jackie (a platinum blonde Jeanne Moreau), a woman firmly in the grips of her gambling addiction and savoring every minute of the wild ride: “Gambling is my religion!”
“Bay of Angels” is quite obviously
patterned after Robert Bresson's brilliant “Pickpocket” (1959).
Like many a Bresson model/actor, Jean is tall and lean and usually
keeps his emotions tamped down. And as in “Pickpocket,” the lead
man is inducted into a shady new world by a companion and meets a
woman he sees as potential salvation (though neither Jackie nor
Moreau fit the Bresson template) on the road to an ending so abrupt
it leaves the viewer shocked.
Any director's sophomore effort would
be expected to suffer by such a challenging comparison, but “Bay of
Angels” captures the alternating despair and ephemeral joy of the
gambler as vividly as any film ever made. Though shooting on the
bustling Riviera and in (presumably) equally bustling casinos,
cinematographer Jean Rabier's camera hangs so close to the
newly-minted couple that they may as well be all alone as they
stumble towards damnation.
The pathetic nature of their addiction
is underscored by their game of choice: the pointless and tedious
game of roulette, the gussied up version of “Pick a Number” from
“Vegas Vacation.” Jackie's eyes light up every time the ball
begins to spin around the wheel, and she appears equally confident in
every hunch no matter how seldom they pay off. Because sometimes,
just sometimes, they do, as was also true for the hopeful lovers of
“Lola.” And so the film proceeds with sudden big wins followed by
the instant hemorrhaging of all gains, then one more big win to
prolong the cycle in which Jackie has clearly been trapped for years
and which threatens to ensnare Jean alongside her.
I knew nothing of “Bay of Angels”
before this set, and I think it's not just Demy's masterpiece, but
one of the great French films of the sixties which is pretty high
praise. Moreau is magnificent as the desperate, destructive, but
undaunted Jackie (a shot of her walking in high heels across a rocky
beach sums up her character succinctly) and the seemingly
good-natured Jean manifests an unexpected dark side just when you
think you have him pegged. It is the ultimate casino movie, in no
small part because it makes no effort to glamorize the shabby
experience. The film does not take a single false step and if you see
no other movie from this set, please make sure you don't miss this
one.
This is the point at which the characters in Demy's films begin to sing and, not coincidentally, this is also the point where I must largely recuse myself from the case. I am not entirely hostile to movie musicals, but I have long known that I am allergic to the version of the genre which Demy innovated, the one where the characters sing every line from poetic love songs to mundane exchanges like “Would you like fries with that? Yes, uh no, make it onion rings instead.” I paraphrase, of course.
This is the point at which the characters in Demy's films begin to sing and, not coincidentally, this is also the point where I must largely recuse myself from the case. I am not entirely hostile to movie musicals, but I have long known that I am allergic to the version of the genre which Demy innovated, the one where the characters sing every line from poetic love songs to mundane exchanges like “Would you like fries with that? Yes, uh no, make it onion rings instead.” I paraphrase, of course.
Deneuve and... who cares, it's Deneuve in Umbrellas of Cherbourg |
Many films ask you to buy into a certain brand of artifice, and I know that many, many viewers have happily bought into Demy's all-singing style as both “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg” and “The Young Girls of Rochefort” appear on quite a few all-time favorite lists. If you do buy in, each film quickly becomes a hermetic reality that provides a direct access to the characters' emotional state that is difficult to achieve by more conventionally naturalistic means and many have been moved to tears by these tales of loves both lost and achieved.
I wish I could buy in. It seems like so
much fun. But I cannot, and believe me I have tried. I just keep
waiting for them to stop singing even though I know they won't.
Having said that, I am not immune to the considerable charms of both
“Cherbourg” and “Rochefort,” chief among them the almost
supernaturally flawless visage of a young Catherine Deneuve who would
be rocketed to international stardom by her role in “Cherbourg,”
a major popular and critical success for Demy. “Rochefort” was
not as big of a hit, but it offers its own unique charms, pairing
Deneuve with her real-life sister Françoise
Dorléac (who died in an
auto accident just months after filming) and also features Gene Kelly
who helpsto add the dancing part of the equation to the wall-to-wall
singing in Demy's first musical. These films are not my cup of tea,
but I fully understand why they are so loved. Did I mention the
colors? Good grief, the colors are worth the price of admission all
by themselves.
Deneuve and Delphine Seyrig in Donkey Skin |
You can shake off the ick factor of the
premise by realizing the story is told more or less from the
free-floating perspective of the little girl who wants to marry daddy
and needs to learn why that's not a great idea, but you can also
understand why it hasn't gotten quite as much play here as Perrault's
other standards. I was not, however, able to get past the design and
tone of the film with its neighboring kingdoms filled, respectively,
with blue people and red people. Demy borrows heavily from Jean
Cocteau (even casting “Beast”ly Jean Marais as the king) but the
surrealism that works so beautifully in “Beauty and the Beast”
and “Orpheus” feels like forced whimsy here and all in the
service of a rather unpleasant story.
I'll be honest. Just about everything
in this movie rubbed me the wrong way, including the music, and I
found it a challenge to sit through. There are two exceptions though.
The great goddess Delphine Seyrig is perfectly cast as the kind but
scheming Lilac Fairy. And the title donkey shits out heaps of gold
and precious gems, which is pretty cool no matter what you think of
the rest of the movie.
Un chambre en ville |
The six films in the set are each
presented in their original aspect ratios ranging from 1.66:1 to
2.35:1. All of the films have been digitally restored within the past
few years at different labs, all with the direct participation of
Demy's wife Agnès Varda
and their children Mathieu Demy and Rosalie Varda-Demy. “Lola” is
the weakest of the lot with a surprisingly soft image throughout
(hardly any grain visible); there is also some digital blur when
characters or the camera are in motion. It's not terrible, but it's
one of the weaker high-def transfers we've seen from Criterion and I
suspect the problems are in the restoration process; the original
negative was destroyed in a fire and the restoration had to be
conducted from the best print that could be found, no doubt requiring
substantial boosting at times.
“Bay of Angels” looks much better
with a pleasing grainy image that looks appropriately drab even in
the sunniest beach sequences. There's a lot of white in this
black-and-white film and that can be hard to deal with in a digital
transfer but everything looks pretty strong here.
“Cherbourg” and “Rochefort”
were both restored in 2013 and the results are impressive. These are
films with bright, saturated colors and they pop here without ever
seeming too gaudy. Image detail is sharp and I can't imagine fans
will have any complaints here.
“Donkey Skin” doesn't look quite as
strong as the previous three films, but the restoration is more than
competent with bright colors. Some scenes look surprisingly grimy
considering it's a fairy tale adaptation, but Demy was going for a
grittier naturalistic look as a counterpoint to the whimsy.
I only sampled twenty minutes of “Une
chambre en ville” and noticed no obvious issues with the 2012
restoration. Image quality is sharp. Colors aren't meant to be as
bright here and aren't.
This is a dual-format release which
includes DVDs along with the Blu-rays. The SD transfers have not been
reviewed because I wish both to retain my sanity and to have this
review posted before 2015.
Audio:
“Lola” and “Bay of Angels” get
LPCM mono tracks. “Cherbourg,” “Rochefort,” and “Donkey
Skin” get 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio surround tracks. “Une chambre”
is presented with a 2.0 surround track.
Audio is clean and crisp on all six
films. You probably care most about the music in the last four films
and as far as I can tell you they all sound rich and vibrant. The
great composer Michel Legrand was a close, long-time collaborator
with Demy and scored all the films in this set except for “Une
chambre” and his work is shown off quite well by these lossless
audio tracks. Optional English subtitles support the French audio in
all films.
Extras:
Both Criterion and the Varda-Demy
family have joined forces to offer a remarkable collection of extras,
scattered across the six films in this boxed set.
First, a word about the packaging. Each
film is housed in its own keep case and all six cases fit next to the
square-bound insert booklet inside the large cardboard case with
cover art for the whole “Essential Jacques Demy” set. Since this
is a dual-format release, each case contains a single DVD and a
single Blu-ray (“Une chambre” has two DVDs along with the single
Blu-ray). It's a very handsomely-designed set which you can view in
more detail here.
“Lola” includes a brief interview
with actress Anouk Aimée
(3 min.) which combines interviews conducted by Agnès
Varda in 1995 and 2012. Varda is also interviewed (2008, 3 min.)
about writing the lyrics for Lola's song. Like most discs in this
set, we also get a Restoration Demonstration (10 min.) which details
the considerable problems involved in restoring “Lola,” the
negative of which was lost in a fire. The disc also includes a
Trailer (2 min.) which references the restoration as much as the
film.
Of greater interest, however, are the
four short films by Demy included on this first disc. “Les horizons
morts” (1951, 8 min.) stars Demy in a Cocteau-infused silent film
(with music) about a man who mopes in his lonely room while thinking
back to a lost love. “Le sabotier du Vale de Loire” (1956, 23
min.) is a splendid poetic documentary about an aging clog maker in
the Loire Valley. It details his work, but also devotes plenty of
time (via narration) to his ongoing love for his wife. “Ars”
(1959, 17 min.) is a Bresson-influenced documentary about Jean-Marie
Baptiste Vianney, a stern 19th century French parish
priest in the small town of Ars. I loved it, but many will find it
dry. “La luxure” (1962, 15 min.) is Demy's segment from the 1962
omnibus film “The Seven Deadly Sins” and is the least compelling
of the shorts, but still of interest.
Unfortunately, “Bay of Angels” is
pretty sparse on extras, a shame for the standout film in the set. We
get an on-set interview with Jeanne Moreau (1962, 14 min.), conducted
for the French television show “Cinépanorama”
and an informative interview with writer Marie Colmant (2013, 10
min.) who discusses Demy's fondness for outcast characters. We also
get another Restoration Demonstration (5 min.) and a Trailer (1 min.)
The extras on “The Umbrellas of
Cherbourg” kick off with “Once Upon a Time... The Umbrellas of
Cherbourg,” a 2008 documentary (54 min.) by Marie Genin and Serge
July which includes archival interviews with Demy and new interviews
with Catherine Deneuve, Michel Legrand, Agnès
Varda, and others.
A substantial interview with film
scholar Rodney Hill (2014, 23 min.) addresses the difficulty in
categorizing Demy's work (New Wave, Left Bank, Tradition of Quality?)
and provides more details about the production of some of his films,
with a focus on “Cherbourg” of course. An excerpt from a 1964
episode of “Cinépanorama”
(11 min.) features an interview with collaborators Demy and composer
Michel Legrand. The disc also includes audio extracts from an
appearance by Legrand at the National Film Theatre in London (1991,
27 min.) and an appearance by Deneuve at the same location (1983, 11
min.) And we get another Restoration Demonstration (6 min.) and a
Trailer (2 min.)
“The Young Girls of Rochefort” is
accompanied by an excerpt from a 1966 episode of the French TV show
“Cinéma” (11 min.) with
another interview with Demy and Legrand, as well as the second part
of a six part 1966 “Behind-the-Scenes” series shot by André
Delvaux about the production of “Rochefort.” Just this
installation runs 35 minutes so the overall project must have been
quite ambitious. We also get a 2013 interview (26 min.) with film
scholar Jean-Pierre Berthomé and costume designer Jacqueline Moreau
who worked on many of Demy's films and was a close friend of the
director. No Restoration Demonstration this time, but there is a
Trailer (2 min.)
The
best feature on the disc, however, is the documentary “The Young
Girls Turns 25” (1993, 67 min.) directed by the great documentarian
Agnès Varda who returns to Rochefort, a town whose identity is still
closely tied in with the film. The feature includes interviews with
Deneuve (who also returns to Rochefort for the anniversary) and the
many townsfolk who fondly remember (and probably misremember) their
involvement with the production. This is a fantastic documentary.
“Donkey
Skin” includes an excerpt from the French TV show “Pour le
cinéma” (1970, 12 min.) which mixes interviews with Demy, Deneuve,
and actors Jean Marais and Jacques Perrin. “Donkey Skin
Illustrated” presents images from various print versions of the
Perrault fairy tale and then provides narration over the pictures to
tell the story. It's a neat feature though the repetition of some
audio from the film gets irritating. “Donkey Skin and the Thinkers”
is a 2008 interview with film critic Camille Taboulay, psychoanalysts
Lucille Durrmeyer and Jean-Claude Polack, and 17th
century literature specialist Liliane Picciola. This feature runs 17
minutes and if you make it all the way through, I think you win a
T-shirt or something. “Jacques Demy at the AFI” is a lengthy
audio excerpt from a 1971 appearance at the AFI (42 min.)
And
if you think there have been a lot of extras so far, Criterion has
saved some of the heftiest ones for the final volume which explains
why “Une chambre en ville” is the only title that requires two
DVDs along with the single Blu-ray. “Jacques Demy from A to Z”
(2014, 61 min.) is a tremendous visual essay by James Quandt, perhaps
my favorite working critic today. As the title suggests, this feature
is quite ambitious and wide-ranging, proposing 26 separate topics for
discussion. Perhaps the conceit requires a bit of a stretch (half the
French directors who ever lived are cited as influences on Demy) but
this visual essay is an invaluable and riveting companion to the
films in this set.
“The
World of Jacques Demy” (1995, 91 min.) is another documentary by
Agnès Varda which addresses both the personal and professional and
includes many interviews with Demy's collaborators over the years.
And it is, of course, excellent. Because it's made by Varda.
The
final disc also includes a Q&A session with Demy from the
Midnight Sun Film Festival in Finland (1987, 16 min.), another
Restoration Demonstration (6 min.) and a Trailer (2 min.)
In
case the discs don't provide enough supplemental material, the
68-page square-bound insert booklet includes an essay on each of the
films written, in order, by Ginette Vincendeau, Terrence Rafferty,
Jim Ridley, Jonathan Rosenbaum, Anne E. Duggan, and Geoff Andrew. A
seventh essay by Jean-Pierre Berthomé speaks more generally about
Demy's relationship to his hometown of Nantes.
But aside from all of that, this set is
pretty bare bones.
Set Value:
Some might argue that “Model Shop”
needs to be included in any Jacques Demy set labeled as “Essential”
but let's not quibble with the voluminous material included here. I
wish I could be more enthusiastic about the musicals, but I have
confidence that most of you will be. I would consider this set a
towering triumph if for no other reason than the inclusion of “Bay
of Angels,” a film that absolutely blew me away. I will never
forget it. “Lola” is pretty damn good as well. So if you only
think of Demy as the musical guy this set should cure you. This set
is Criterion's most ambitious undertaking since “Zatoichi” and it
more than delivers the goods.
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