Rivette (right) on location shooting Out 1 in Paris, 1970
Jacques Rivette
OUT 1: SPECTRE B
France (255 mi) 1974 d: Jacques Rivette
Rivette’s offshoot work extrapolated from his massive, near
13-hour, experimental tour de force Out 1 and
Jacques Rivette R.I.P. (1971), which never had a release, existing more as
a working copy, believing it was too unwieldy at that length, figuring there
would be no audience for it at the time.
Instead Rivette struggled to whittle it down to a more manageable length,
chose an alternate title, and released it in theaters with a run time of more
than four hours. While ostensibly using
the same footage, it is recut and reconfigured in a totally different manner,
making it near incomprehensible if you haven’t viewed the original. Instead of relying upon lengthy shots that
comprise the rhythm and improvisational uniqueness of the original, this is
instead an example of rapid-fire editing, cutting off scenes before they develop,
where it’s much more fragmentary.
Interjected throughout are the black and white stills that were used
between segments to recap the action from the previous episode, but here they
are edited into the overall narrative, often disrupting any established rhythm. Not everyone will admire this jagged cutting
technique, though some have hailed it as a “masterclass” of editing, as the
unique improvisational method, considered a cinema of risk, with the actors
continually stressed out, especially for such an extended period of time in the
original, is barely noticeable here. Some
of the best parts of OUT 1 are not included in this shorter version, featuring
few lengthy sequences, where there is an emphasis on building character that
was absent in the original, which instead focused on duration, spending plenty
of time with a group of actors from rival theater groups. Storyline was barely noticeable in the
original, while it’s essential here, completely altering the tone, adding an
elevated sense of growing paranoia by the end.
Both versions follow the exploits of two Parisian theater groups, each
rehearsing for a different Aeschylus Greek tragedy, one led by Thomas (Michael
Lonsdale), the other by Lili (Michèle Moretti), both resorting to extremely
unorthodox methods and techniques, where barely any time at all is spent with
the actual text. Nonetheless, what
they’re doing is fairly self-explanatory.
More curious are the actions of two significant characters, Colin
(Jean-Pierre Léaud) and Frédérique (Juliet Berto), both street con artists who
go through an improvisatory charade pretending to be something that they’re not
in order to extract money from strangers on the street, hitting on unsuspecting
customers of street café’s and bars who are innocently relaxing and lulling
about. While their methods are clever,
requiring a certain audacious charm, they are really the two innocent spirits
who drive the story, as their normal routines are interrupted by something
inexplicable, that may as well be destiny, but it appears to them disguised in
coded letters that they receive that on the surface make no sense, where they
have to uncover the underlying mystery.
These two figures intersect at the exact middle of the film without even
acknowledging one another.
With two characters criss-crossing throughout the city,
Emilie (Bulle Ogier) lives a middle class life with two young children and a
nanny, but her husband Igor has been missing for six months without a word,
while she also runs a hippie boutique known as “L’Angle du Hasard,” or “Corner
of Chance,” which is featured more prominently in this version. Brightly decorated in psychedelic artworks
and colors, where the use of color is particularly expressive, the store is a
front for underground political activities, while occasionally they put out an
underground newspaper, but mostly this appears to be a stoner hangout, the kind
of place that existed in Berkeley or Haight-Asbury in America at the time, but
was non-existent in Paris. The
behind-the-scenes shenanigans are more pointed throughout, with much more
visibility, played with more suspense, where clues are secretly delivered to
Colin, where the unasked question is bound to be why him? How did he get selected? How could they have predicted Colin’s behavior? And how could that benefit the group? Colin quickly deciphers the name of an
underground group by the name of The Thirteen, which is mentioned in the
preface to Balzac’s History Of The
Thirteen (Histoire des Treize), revealing an unscrupulous secret society that
controls the levers of power in Paris of the mid 1830’s. As a result, Colin scours the city searching
for evidence of this group, with surprisingly little to show for it, including
a visit to a professed Balzac expert, none other than Éric Rohmer, preserved
exactly as it was in the original, with an extended scene that is reduced to
comic absurdity, as Colin’s character remains mute from the outset, with the
professor showing reservation about any influence from this group. Nonetheless, his search rattles the
confidence of several of the people that he contacts, who resurface out of
self-interest, protecting some hidden secret that is never identified. In fact, this is accentuated by another scene
involving Frédérique, who wanders into the home of a complete stranger, an
upscale businessman playing chess with himself, Etienne (director Jacques
Doniol-Lacroze), where she feigns an interest in chess, while her real intent
is theft, seen rummaging through a desk drawer looking for money, but instead
finds a collection of old letters that she stuffs into her purse. As she investigates further, the letters
allude to a secret underground group named the Thirteen. Like Colin, she learns next to nothing other
than a few mentioned names, like Pierre and Igor, where her attempts at
blackmail are amateurish, especially when she contacts a prominent attorney,
Lucie de Graffe (Françoise Fabian).
Only Emilie is willing to pay Frédérique for the missing
letters, thinking it may lead to her husband’s whereabouts, but immediately
realizes she’s been scammed, as they are all old letters. Nonetheless, they mention some of the
important players. What’s especially
different in this version is the ominous influence of unseen characters, namely
Igor, the absent husband of Emilie, whose name is mentioned in the letters Frédérique
absconds with, and Pierre, the apparent author of the letters sent to
Colin. Lucie and Etienne meet, along
with Thomas, in a long walk along the Seine River, where we discover all five
are members of a secret underground group that goes by the name of The
Thirteen. There is never any
identification of their origins other than the suggestion that they abandoned
shortly after the May 1968 protests in France, remaining
dormant for several years, but people poking around asking about them have
aroused fears they might be exposed.
Lucie is fairly certain nothing incriminating has leaked, but they each
question the motives of Pierre, thinking this may be his attempt to get the
group back together again. While
conspiracy theories drive this version, one other difference is the amount of
time spent at “L’Angle du Hasard,” an address Colin figures out from
deciphering clues from a Lewis Carroll poem, a revelation of such importance
that he regains his voice for the occasion, only to become infatuated with
Emilie (known as Pauline at the store), spending most of his idle time
observing who comes in and out of the store while waiting for his chance with
Pauline. Both theatrical groups are
undermined from within by what amounts to indifference, though Thomas attempts
to revive interest by driving to the Normandy coast to find Sarah, Bernadette
Lafont from Chabrol’s Les
Bonnes Femmes (1960) and Eustache’s The
Mother and the Whore (La Maman et la Putain) (1973), who happens to be
living in a seaside home owned by Igor, suffering from writer’s block. If anything, her presence only drives the
group into extinction, while at the same time she’s driven to physically attack
Emilie in her own home after discovering her intentions to send Pierre’s
letters to the newspapers in hopes of fleshing out her missing husband. But in this version, the boutique and the
house on the coast take on special significance, as both are connected to
members of The Thirteen, where members Lili and Emilie take drastic measures to
protect their anonymity, while the ghostly presence of Pierre and Igor
continues to wreak havoc with the rest of the members, where rumors swirl that
Igor is still locked away somewhere inside his coastal house. While there is a gathering of souls at the
house, particular attention is paid to a single locked room, where there are
suggestions the house is haunted. Emilie
wanders inside at one point when the door curiously opens, leading to what
amounts to a dream sequence, where she sees an image of herself in a mirror
casting infinite reflections. As if the
clouds have dissipated, this opens up an entirely new outlook, as unlike the
disillusionment found in the original, with no tragic end to Frédérique (who is
less prominently featured in this version), this couldn’t be more hopeful and
optimistic, where the entire film feels more like a road movie following clues
exploring the fragile psyches and discovering the whereabouts of the secretive Thirteen
group members.
