MOUCHETTE
A-
France (78 mi) 1967 d: Robert
Bresson
MOUCHETTE has always suffered from coming so close on the
heels to Au
Hasard Balthazar (1966), sharing so many of the downbeat aspects of the
human condition, where unfortunately it will always remain second fiddle in
that regard, as MOUCHETTE explores human misery while BALTHAZAR defines poetic
grace. Adapted from a novel by Catholic writer Georges Bernanos, who also
wrote Diary of a Country Priest, it’s as if Bresson decided to make a
film accentuating a world without God, coinciding, perhaps, with Ingmar
Bergman’s Trilogy (1961 – 1963) of chamber dramas, Through a Glass
Darkly, Winter Light, and The Silence, exploring a crisis of faith
in the modern age, each deeply personal films utilizing little dialog, isolated
settings, and searing performances from an exceptional group of actors.
Bresson creates perhaps his bleakest film, nothing less than
the descent of Man, a heartbreakingly sad portrait of human suffering as seen
through the life of a young 14-year old girl, the beautifully expressive
non-professional Nadine Nortier, the only film she ever made, whose descent
into abject hopelessness becomes a parable for the absence of God, as she has
nowhere to turn, no friend to call upon, and no way to stop the bleeding
without taking her own life. What’s particularly devastating is the way
she is beaten down into submission, a brutal exposé of the torment of an
innocent soul, an interesting comment on the similar treatment of Christ, but
Bresson’s film offers no transcendence from Calvary, no ascension into heaven,
no spiritual relief, only the portrayal of a human crucifixion.
Using unrelentingly raw detail in a world stripped of
artifice, much of the film plays out like a crime scene, as if we in the
audience are implicated for the sin we are about to witness, as in Catholicism,
suicide is a sin, where we must collectively bear responsibility, each of us in
our own way. This plays out like a kind of living theater, where having
born witness to this kind of earthly torment, the audience must find a way to
be reborn and find spiritual renewal. Do we relapse into the same old bad
habits, showing indifference to the suffering of others, or does this film
literally touch the soul?
Opening and closing with sacred music from Monteverdi’s “Magnificat”
Monteverdi
"Magnificat" fragment (Vespers of 1610) on YouTube (11:19),
Bresson frames the film in the beauty of Renaissance classicism and what would
be considered the heart of European civilization. The startling opening
question is asked by Mouchette's dying mother even before the credits appear,
“What will they become without me?” Much like BALTHAZAR, we return to the
same rural countryside setting, focus on another teenage girl’s experience, and
follow another path of human mistreatment and cruelty. However in this
film, Mouchette is already an outcast, mistreated by her dysfunctional parents,
excluded by others at school, the object of namecalling and derision, even
mistreated by her teacher, driven to tears, seen here: Mouchette
on YouTube (2:14) in a lamenting song of despair aboard the ship of Columbus,
believing they are lost at sea and doomed, crying out “Hope, Hope Is Dead.”
Relentlessly dour, the portrait of an unsympathetic world,
there are dual narratives, the rape of nature and man, where one metaphorically
comments upon the rabbit hunting sequence from Renoir’s THE RULES OF THE GAME
(1939), where a gamekeeper and a poacher are at odds, where the matter of
justice in the wild is seen as a violation against nature, where hunters can be
seen shooting rabbits at will, where overpowering force tips the balance of man
against nature, while the other allows a troubled and wayward girl to get lost
in a storm and lose her way, never managing to find her way back, showing
events taking place over the course of a 24-hour day.
Making her way through life friendless and alone, Bresson’s
narrative is uncompromising throughout, where Nortier’s face is the picture of
bewilderment, continually used to hardship and solitude and abuse, as nothing
else exists for her in the harsh conditions of rural life, where the influence
of traditional support from family and church are absent. While she’s
something of a tomboy forced to fend for herself, she also exhibits moments of
tenderness and fragility, where her need for human contact is so overwhelming that
she confuses physical abuse with compassion, where the person offering her the
most kindness also rapes her. Where does one turn when there is no
one? Without faith, her life is a spiraling descent into the void of
worthlessness. If faith is to be found in this film, it must come from
the audience.
