73. Gladiator (2000)

Plot Intro

Popular Roman General Maximus Decimus (Russell Crowe) is told by Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris) that he will become the next Emperor, to prevent the Senate from being overrun by corruption and ambition. Unfortunately, this does not sit well with the Emperor’s son, Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix), who murders his father, seizes the throne, sends soldiers to kill Maximus’ family and attempts to assassinate Maximus himself. Maximus escapes and, reduced to the status of slave, embarks on a new career as gladiator in Rome to get himself closer to Commodus, and exact revenge…

Paul says...

Here’s something big and bombastic to kick off the new millennium. Gladiator bears a striking resemblance to Ben-Hur. Both films are a lengthy and ponderous portrayal of a man dragged down from his high status and using his skills in battle, leadership and resourcefulness to build himself back up again and gain vengeance against those who have done him wrong. There are minor differences, of course. While Charlton Heston became a charioteer, Maximus becomes a gladiator and this film is set about 150 years after the events of Ben-Hur. 

But the most refreshing difference is the removal of the overly reverential religious overtones, and the exhausting chastity and self-importance of Ben-Hur. Gladiator re-invented the ancient epic for the 21st century audience, putting a heavier emphasis on violence, brutality and injustice rather than religious piety. It led to lesser-successful blockbusters such as Troy and Kingdom of Heaven, cinematic reinventions of King Arthur and Robin Hood, big-budget TV productions such as Rome and Spartacus, and even today’s TV Titan, Game of Thrones, owes its popularity to the influence of Gladiator. 

The film succeeds in combining the magnificence and ruthlessness of the Roman Empire. Stunning landscape shots of Rome, with the Colosseum lovingly brought back to life, are juxtaposed with battle sequences that make slasher movies look like Disney musicals. Oliver Reed (who died during filming from God knows how much alcohol he consumed, and had to be recreated by a computer for some scenes) is excellent as a seemingly heartless gladiator merchant, ostensibly not giving a flying fuck whether his products survive their ordeal, or if they get torn to shreds. The lives of Roman slaves and gladiators is a far-cry from Ben-Hur giving water to Jesus. 

But, and this surprised me, Gladiator does still suffer from the slow-moving ponderousness that Ben-Hur suffered from. Thank God it’s about an hour shorter. The pace of the film moves in leaps and troughs. The leaps are the outstanding fight sequences. The troughs are all the bits in between in which either Maximus or Commodus has a conversation with someone that could have easily been trimmed down. Usually it’s with Connie Nielsen as Commodus’ sister Lucilla, whose sole function is to listen while Russell Crowe growls and Joaquin Phoenix throws another strop. Poor Nielsen is given virtually nothing to work with and, as the only speaking female character in a 2.5 hour epic, this is disgraceful.

In fact, most of the characters are pretty one-dimensional. Russell Crowe does well in his career breakthrough, but all he does is grunt, whisper and glower (and he has continued to do this for the last 20 years). Commodus is, again, played well by Phoenix, but doesn’t rise above being a snotty, stroppy pipsqueak. We live in an age where Game of Thrones can deliver not only blood, guts and boobs, but also phenomenal script-writing, characterisation and plot development. And whilst Gladiator started a new trend in 2000, its standard has been noticeably superseded. 

Gladiator is gorgeous to look at, has some exciting sequences, and is competently acted. But what was once the ultimate blockbuster is now looking sadly slow, stodgy and outdated. 

Highlight

The battle sequences in the Colosseum rival Ben-Hur’s chariot-race scene superbly.

Lowlight

The opening half-hour spends far too long setting a story that is really dead simple. 

Mark

4/10

Doug says...

I’m currently watching Game of Thrones for the first time (yes I know I’m late to the party) and it feels quite odd to watch Gladiator alongside the dealings of Cersei, Danaerys and Jehhn Sneeerh. Because frankly, this 2000 movie is not a patch on today’s offerings. 

Throughout this project we’ve encountered films that are clearly groundbreaking but haven’t aged well. Films like An American in Paris, On the Waterfront, Tom Jones and The Godfather all brought something new and fresh to the table, be it cinematic musical numbers, gritty realism or just plain smut. But watching them now often feels overlong and overwritten. So it is with Gladiator. It’s clear the debt we owe to this film, as Paul says, but when the things that come after are so much better (see the BBC series Rome, and HBO’s Game of Thrones), why bother to watch this any more? 

Let’s be frank. Russell Crowe is not a good actor. We know this from his worse-than-dreadful portrayal of Javert in Les Miserables, but even here the performance feels very paint-by-numbers. It is a sad scene, so he looks sad. It is an angry scene, so he looks angry. There’s no attempt for subtlety or layers. I found myself longing for Lord Varys and Littlefinger to suddenly pop out from behind a pillar and do some Conspiring and Treachery. 

No women either really, as Paul says, which is atrocious. In a film that is already an hour too long, how did they not have the idea to cut the thing down and then write in some more interesting characters? Fans of Rome will remember the central characters of Atia and Servilia dominating the masculine scenes with their femininity and cunning plans. This film is crying out for that. 

Is there anything worth watching still? I like the fight scene with the tigers but the other scenes feel dull to me, which is quite something considering it’s a lot of people running around stabbing each other which isn’t usually a snoozefest. Joaquin Phoenix has a good go at being an Evil Man and Dumbledore pops up in the first couple of scenes to be a Wise Old King (this was only a couple of years before Richard Harris made his appearance in Harry Potter 1 & 2) but ultimately this film suffers from being aimed at Straight Men. 

This means that it is all about the plight of a straight white man, who is set on revenge. It’s the same tired display of masculinity that we were seeing way back in the Godfather era. It’s why the one female character is nothing more than a cipher, acting to motivate the male characters. It’s why all the long dreary conversations about revenge and correct behaviour are in there. It’s why this film probably rates high in Empire’s list of Greatest Movies Ever (generally a mixture of Godfather, war movies and anything starring Orson Welles). 

And this is why Game of Thrones is so so much better. Because it retracts from playing to that one audience, and features far more than just white men yapping on about honour. And that turns out to be far, far more entertaining. 

Highlight

The one scene with the tigers, and the fact that this paved the way for films and television that would quickly eclipse this. Also Omid Djalili’s cameo. We love Omid. 

Lowlight

It’s a sexist, old-fashioned, toxic-masculinity mess of a film that’s easily an hour too long. Not to mention it’s dull. 

Mark

2/10 

The PAD Awards: 1990s

And just like that, it's this decade's Paul and Doug (PAD) Awards. It's been a decade of drama and romance, to say nothing of Nazis, wolves and shipwrecks. The 1990s certainly made a splash...

On with the Awards.

Least favourite film

Paul says: The English Patient

This film polarised us more dramatically than any other film so far on the project, with Doug praising it with a generous 9 out of 10, while I condemned it with a scathing 3. Generally, I found The English Patient to be a bit like Instagram. Most of it looks lovely, but scrape away the attractive cinematography and camera angles, and the plot has no real impetus or intensity. The cast make a good effort, it’s true, and The English Patient probably holds the dubious honour of being one of my “Least Bad Least Favourite Films”. But in a decade fraught with colourful and vivacious pieces, it’s a film with much style but little substance. 

Doug says: American Beauty

Aside from Spacey being a predatory creep playing a predatory creep, this film felt overwrought, overwritten and ultimately full of itself. Like the teenager hanging around a graveyard, willing themselves to weep tears of bitterness over how life is hard, this was a self-indulgent piece that feels dated and most of all, wrapped up in itself. What was the point of making this? 

Favourite Male Performance

Ben Kingsley, Schindler's List

I didn’t give this performance nearly enough credit in my review of this film. But Ben Kingsley’s tender, understated role in Schindler’s List is on par with his equally seminal performance as the title character in Gandhi. Kingsley brilliantly contrasts with Liam Neeson’s confidence and bravado as Schindler, and through him we immediately gain a sense of fear and trepidation in a country where genocide and xenophobia was about to become the order of the day. This provides a sinister edge to his role, as well as Kingsley being probably the only character who is relentlessly sweet-natured throughout. Seeing Kingsley escort the real Itzhak Stern’s wife to Schindler’s grave in the devastating final scene is just the cherry on top. Great stuff! Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs was pretty much my only other choice.

Doug says: Anthony Hopkins, The Silence of the Lambs

This is a tremendous performance, given that he’s only on screen for about fifteen minutes of the whole thing. In it, he turns a murderous cannibal into a compelling, addictive figure who somehow inspires sympathy. Matching the fantastic Jodie Foster step for step, Hopkins dominates the screen even when off-stage, his eerie stillness and frantic fava-bean-lip-licking spreading an unease that seeps into the rest of the picture. An astonishing, pervasive performance. A special mention also goes to Kevin Costner who led Dances With Wolves superbly. 

Favourite Female Performance 

Paul says: Jodie Foster, The Silence of the Lambs

As Doug has pointed out, Anthony Hopkins, although usually credited as being the star of the film, constitutes a mere 16 minutes of screen time. Jodie Foster takes up far more, and due to the hype around Hannibal Lector as a character, it is easy to forget that the film is really all about her. The Silence of the Lambs is, unexpectedly, one of the few truly feminist films in our project, and Foster’s careful, subtle acting contributes to this. Those inconspicuous looks she gives when yet another bloke puts her down; her fascination with Lector reflecting the audience’s own obsession; and her most humane moments of fear, anger and euphoria; all of this make her a well-deserved Best Actress winner, and a true icon of the fictional, feminist world. Big shout outs to other female performances of the '90s go to Judi Dench in Shakespeare in Love, Kate Winslet and Gloria Stuart in Titanic, and Annette Bening in American Beauty.

Doug says: Gloria Stuart, Titanic

Probably my favourite category of the PAD Awards, this decade we were spoilt for choice. We had Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs and Kristin Scott Thomas icily storming through The English Patient, to say nothing of Kate Winslet having a whale of a time as Rose in Titanic. But my winner is a lesser acknowledged actress. Gloria Stuart, for me, is one of the key elements of Titanic’s success, anchoring the film in an emotional, present day. Stuart delivers lines gorgeously, unafraid of the rolling emotion within and pulling the audience through the ship’s sinking. But more than that, she then acts as the film’s conscience: stopping the present day bounty hunters, and focusing the story back onto the loss of lives that actually occurred. The tears that came at the end of our viewing are in no small way due to her sublime performance and exceptional line readings. 

Favourite Film 

Paul says: Schindler's List

This is a tough one because, statistically speaking, this has been by far the best decade on our project for me. But it would be almost insulting to the millions of people who died in the Holocaust if I didn’t choose Schindler’s List. I had been warned about the sheer force of this film by virtually everyone who has seen it, and nobody over-exaggerated. All of us who watched it had to take a few moments to fully digest what we witnessed. It doesn’t have the brutality of The Pianist, it doesn’t have the fictitious sentimentality of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. It’s all true, it’s all tender and it’s absolutely stunning. This is an impassioned, arduous, heart-rending three hours and it’s worth every single second. No other film about the Holocaust has managed to portray the inhumanity and yet also the desperate humanity that went hand-in-hand during this horrible time. Titanic and The Silence of the Lambs were close calls. 

Doug says: Dances with Wolves

We’ve had a damn fine season this decade, and with contenders like Titanic, Schindler’s List and The Silence of the Lambs, picking a winner is a tough one. But ultimately, the film that truly wowed me and elevated itself above the rest was the fantastic Dances With Wolves. Not only did it give space to the story of the Native Americans, it displayed astonishing scenes such as the buffalo hunt with truth and vivid cinematography. I particularly enjoyed how much attention and care was given to the Native Americans and the battle between Western and Native ways of life. Special mention has to go to Schindler’s List, whose final scene was a remarkable piece of cinema history, and whose subtle depiction of the insidiousness of fear was truly terrifying. 

Average Film Scores 

Paul: 7.1/10 (Paul’s highest rated decade)

Doug: 6.8/10 (Doug's second-highest rated decade)

72. American Beauty (1999)

Plot Intro

Lester Burnham and his wife, Carolyn (Annette Bening) live a pretty miserable middle-class suburban life. Both are struggling in their careers and Lester particularly feels emasculated by his controlling wife and unpleasant daughter Jane (Thora Birch). But when he becomes sexually obsessed with Jane’s friend Angela (Mena Suvari), Lester finds himself reinvigorated, while Carolyn and Jane follow their own path towards sexual awakening. 

Paul says...

A note on Kevin Spacey: Yes, this film threw us into a bit of a quandary. Numerous allegations of sexual misconduct, some which even Doug and I both heard about from friends more closely connected to the Old Vic (where Spacey was Artistic Director), led to us wondering whether we watch the film at all or just skip it. On the one hand, Spacey is not the only person in the film industry with fingers pointed at him post-MeToo. On the other hand, the allegations against him are so numerous and so well-known that it is safe to say at least some of them will be found to be true. 

But two main reasons led me to decide to watch and review the film. Firstly, I think it would be unfair of us to condemn and shirk off a film because of one person involved in its production. The skill put in by director Sam Mendes, writer Alan Ball, and the other cast members should still be recognised. Secondly, it would also be unfair of us to react so extremely to Spacey, when we have seen plenty of other actors and filmmakers in our project already who have had allegations. Woody Allen, Morgan Freeman, Dustin Hoffman, Sylvester Stallone, and Liam Neeson, to name a few, have been involved in other unsanitary controversies too. It makes me question whether, if their co-stars were still alive, what Lionel Barrymore, Clark Gable, Ray Milland, and Laurence Olivier all got up to behind closed doors. 

As such, I chose a middle ground that suits my own conscience- I would watch the film but I won’t touch upon Spacey’s contribution to it. Perhaps, in the future, when the news of his misdeeds are less raw, I will blog about him more openly.

The review itself:

The 90s ends with our first non-period drama since 1991’s The Silence of the Lambs. Like the 80s, the 90s has favoured period dramas with magnificent costumes and substantial running times, but with a lot more fervour and involvement. American Beauty stands starkly out, and is more a reflection of that monotonous, late-90s/early-00s moodiness. It connects to a time when The X Files, Bjork, Buffy and Madonna’s Ray of Light were the plats du jour, and The Simpsons had made society more reflective of itself.

All in all, American Beauty’s major themes are great food for thought. It covers similar territory to Fight Club, which was released in the same year. But while Fight Club put more emphasis on masculinity and mediocrity, American Beauty tackles the sex vs prudishness conflict that covers middle-class suburban life. Both Lester and Carolyn are in a state of stagnating, frustrating misery. They discover their more lively, life-affirming sides not through beating each other senseless in an illicit underground fraternity in which everyone punches each other, but through sex and, in Lester’s case, drugs. The irony is that, while they have painstakingly worked to create the “perfect” and “successful” lives which involves the conventional ingredients (a white-picket fence, a well-placed hairstyle, one or two 4 x 4’s, an expensive couch etc), they gain true happiness through infidelity, hedonism and shameless disrespect towards virtually everyone. The film, for its first hour at least, dissects the way in which we, as a society, push so hard towards self-restraint and glossy perfection, that we end with an unconquerable desire for and fascination with the darker elements of the world.

The ultimate irony is that the most seemingly-perverted of characters, the Burnham’s new neighbour, a teenager who secretly films people played by Wes Bentley, is actually the most enlightened, respectful, a mentally sturdy character in it.

It is the second hour where things go downhill. Despite a clever and witty script, and an outstanding performance by Annette Bening (I was living for her erratic and unpredictable histrionics), the tone of the film remains the same as it was when it started. Nothing really escalates, and the plot develops into yet more introspective speeches and melodramatic events. The last half hour especially descends into make-it-up-as-you-go-along plot devices. The neighbour’s suppressed homosexuality, Jane’s decision to run away, Carolyn’s breakdown in the rain, and Lester’s eventual murder. None of these really connected up for me, and don’t provide a satisfying ending for a film that starts off as a pretty on-the-nose social commentary. I think that these sort of plot devices were just fashionable in the era.

American Beauty is one the subtler, more cerebral additions to the Oscars canon. But no, it hasn’t really stood the test of time even though it’s only 20 years old, and it’s pretty disgraceful that the more cogent, innovative Fight Club didn’t even warrant a Best Picture nomination.

Highlight

Annette Bening’s attempts to sell a hopeless house, and her breakdown after she fails miserably, is a 2-minute sketch in itself.

Lowlight

The final half hour descends into pretty chaotic story-telling.

Mark

5/10

Doug says...

And so we end the ‘90s. It’s been a whirl of mainly period dramas and weighty, melodramatic stories, and ending with American Beauty is perhaps a fitting end to a decade wriggling freer than ever of polite constraints and mannered dialogue. 

I’m going to deal with the elephant in the corner first. It was impossible for me to fully engage with this film because it features Kevin Spacey playing a predatory individual, lusting after the neighbour’s teenage daughter. As Kevin Spacey is now known to be a predatory individual who lusted (and more) after young teenage boys, it’s all incredibly difficult to watch. Spacey is a good actor, but his behaviour cannot be excused or swept aside, and this was the closest I’ve yet come to refusing to watch one of our films. Every scene he was in, I ended up thinking of his actions and what he has done to innocent people, and the power that he has wielded over young, impressionable people in his industry. He has ruined his own art, and it may well be that he never works again. Not our loss, but his own. 

However, Paul argued that to judge a whole film, complete with cast, crew, writer and director, by one man’s actions is unfair, and so I agreed to watch the film. I’ll be frank - Spacey aside, I still do not like this film. It is often dull, and has long protracted scenes which feel written purely to appeal to angsty teenagers. The now infamous scene where they watch a plastic bag in the wind and label it the most beautiful thing feels overwhelmingly trite. I remembered Family Guy’s spoof of this scene where God shouts down: ‘it’s just some trash bag blowing in the wind. Do you have any idea how complicated your circulatory system is?’ 

This is the main issue for me with this film. It’s overblown, obnoxiously seedy, without real point and at the end throws in a manufactured moral about all things having beauty. The numerous moments of ‘symbolism’ (e.g. red petals, Nazi memorabilia, references to homosexuality) are all stuck in as if the director knew this was a film destined to be studied at A-Level. Themes, themes, themes. 

But does it fit in the ‘90s? Yes it does really. It feeds into that whole over-the-top, slightly trite film-making that we see here. A lot of the speeches and scenes are long in the way that we’ve seen in Braveheart and Shakespeare in Love, but they’re lacking in the fun that those films also brought. In fact, that’s the real thing that separates this (negatively) from this decade’s peers - it’s not fun. There are a few half-laughs but as a whole it’s oppressively miserable: an emo’s wet-dream. Annette Bening marks herself out as an always-good actress and Allison Janney makes the most of her terribly under-used role, but as a whole the film felt full of itself and caught up in its own pretentious airs, leaving me bored and uncomfortable.

Highlight

An early scene where Annette Bening is desperately trying to sell a house is fun, and Bening camps the hell out of it. If it’d taken more turns down this style, I think I’d’ve enjoyed it much more. 

Lowlight

Spacey is now impossible to separate from his roles. He may have been a good actor, but now every scene he features in brings to mind his predatory and abusive behaviour - and how long Hollywood tolerated it until it was brought to the light.

Mark

1/10. An iconic movie. 

Foreign Language Film 7: Jean de Florette & Manon des Sources (France, 1986)

Plot intro

A French provincial farm-owner, Cesar “Le Papet” Soubeyran (Yves Montand) and his nephew, Ugolin (Daniel Auteuil) have their greedy little eyes on getting hold of a local farm, where Ugolin can start his business of growing and selling carnations. They accidentally murder the owner of the farm land, and block off the farm’s natural water-supply in the hope that the farm will be sold off to them at a cheap price. However, the farm is inherited by a city-dwelling, tax-collector hunchback named Jean Cadoret (or “Jean de Florette”) who hopes that his new-found rural life will bring peace and a stronger connection to nature. But Papet and Ugolin have no intention of telling him about the blocked water supply, as they hope to secretly drive Jean off the land. Their plans lead to horrific tragedy, both for Jean and for them…

Paul says

These films are comparable to Call Me By Your Name in that the director spends a huge amount of time evoking the life and climate of the setting. All throughout both films (which are better viewed as one 4-hour epic), you can feel the heat radiating off the dying crops, the sweat of Jean and his family as they desperately hike several times a day for water, the lethargy and slowness of life in these cut-off, minuscule villages who perceive the city as a far-away, fantastical place full of snobbish imbeciles. It’s no wonder that Jean de Florette is credited with improving tourism to rural France (although, bearing in mind the nefarious actions of its inhabitants, I can’t think why!)

Not only are they beautiful to look at, but beautifully acted and written. Doug is right that the first film is slower, less eventful, and perhaps less satisfying from a cathartic perspective. But that’s why it is necessary to watch the second film almost immediately afterwards, because it is essentially a series of “microphone drop” moments in which the quiet, drama-free, self-satisfied life of these hostile villagers comes crumbling around them. 

The whole thing works like a Greek tragedy, with Papet being the Agamemnon/Oedipus/Hippolytus of the tale. His downfall is entirely due to his own greed, pride and dedication to Ugolin’s inheritance. And bloody hell, what a downfall he has! Not only is he publicly shamed and shunned by the entire village, he also loses his only heir and ally. And just when you thought that was bad, in walks a blind old lady who drops the sort of revelations that only Cassandra, the blind ancient Greek prophetess, could have revealed. It even involves lost letters, and decades-old secrets, just like any of the best Greek tragedies. Note to self: if a blind old lady with dark secrets ever comes to Streatham, I’m moving out.

It’s pretty dramatic stuff, and after a few gins we were fully, and vocally, involved in events before us. Hopefully our neighbours don’t think we’re exacting revenge on some poor peasant farmers. 

Not much else remains to be said other than I highly recommend a Sunday afternoon where you watch both these film back-to-back, and I don’t care what your thoughts are on miserable, slow-moving French dramas. The lethargy of the first half perfectly juxtaposes the action of the second, as it shows how the slowness and “heads down, no drama” philosophy of provincial French life leads to utter devastation when your morals and conscience slip away. 

And Yves Montand gives one of the best performances I’ve ever seen in cinema. Formidable!

Highlight

The blind old lady’s big scene towards the end. Prepare thyself for a twist you won’t see coming.

Lowlight

Perhaps the first film could do with some editing. But I still think it’s exquisite.

Mark

10/10

  

Doug says

Split across two films, it’s important to note that this is definitely one work, and should be seen ideally in one evening. That’s because Jean de Florette is not particularly great, and Manon des Sources is triumphant. 

But the reason Florette is not brilliant is that it’s slowly telling you the backstory that you need to understand in order to fully access Manon. It establishes the villains, and shows you to what extent they are prepared to go in the name of something actually pretty trivial. You need it because you need to go in to Manon, gunning for their downfall. I kept thinking of Kill Bill and how during that revenge story, Tarantino utilises flashbacks to show how The Bride has been abused, and why her revenge is necessary. 

Perhaps if they made this story today, they’d do the same. But there’s actually something to be said for the slower route. I didn’t particularly enjoy Florette because there’s one plot and it’s pretty simple to follow: how the two greedy farmers bring down Jean without wavering. I’m not a massive Gerard Depardieu fan and here he turns in a good but not particularly memorable performance. From the get-go, these films belong to Daniel Auteuil as the snivelling, obsequious Ugolin who just wants to grow flowers and Yves Montand as Le Papet, the manipulative old patriarch desperate to win at any cost. Auteuil and Montand give fantastic performances, obsessing over Jean and slowly turning everyone against him. But it’s a story that could be told in 45 minutes and while the beautiful French scenery is lovely to watch, I found myself a little bored. 

It’s the final moments of Florette that grab you and establish a new protagonist, and within minutes of Manon, it’s clear that this is the real story. Florette is a long, necessary prologue and once you’re into the actual film, it’s tremendous. How the now adult Manon avenges herself upon the villagers who turned a blind eye to her father’s struggle is magnificent, and Auteuil does fantastic work as Ugolin in love, now obsessed with Manon to the extent that he sews her abandoned hair-ribbon to his chest (we actually could not watch this scene, it’s too realistically done). It’s also full of catharsis - when the villagers realise that Jean de Florette had been descended from their village and was one of them, their guilt and horror is palpable. There’s a tremendous scene when the water runs out, where a farmer sets upon the town council, smashing plaster busts with his staff. This whole film is full of destruction - but mostly positive - smashing the blindness and webs of lies carefully constructed in Florette.

The strongest element of Manon though is the downfall of the horrendous Le Papet. Yves Montand doesn’t pull any punches. Montand is considered one of the great French actors, with a forty-five year career in cinema, dying in 1991. Here he proves it. It’s a towering performance, with moments of insiduous evil, and then a slowly unfolding horror at what he has done and the unexpected consequences. In a scene when Manon confronts him in front of the villagers, he scrambles defiantly, accusing everyone but himself, while later after Ugolin kills himself, he becomes shrunken, unable to look anyone in the eye or even move. But the narrative isn’t done yet, and thanks to Florette, nor are the audience. We are gunning for his downfall the entire film, and perhaps the length of Florette is necessary to ensure we never start to pity him. This is an evil man, and yet the shock of the film’s final punch left me open-mouthed for ten minutes after. It’s a brilliant piece of storytelling and pulls the rug from under the viewer, despite having been dropping hints throughout. We are left shocked, but appeased. Try as you might — the film says — but evil deeds will reap their rightful rewards. 

Highlight

The scene when Manon turns on Le Papet in front of the villagers, and then a poacher with useful information chimes in is fabulous. Montand is at his scrambling best, Auteil shows a man in love beginning to realise with horror that he’s messed up his own chances at happiness, the villagers suddenly clock their own complicity in Jean’s death and Emmanuelle Béart as Manon delivers the anger that we have been craving since the end of Florette. Marvellous drama. 

Lowlight

While I understand that Jean de Florette is essential for Manon des Sources to work, I still feel it could have been a bit more engaging. It does great work for the French Tourist Board though. 

Mark

9/10