Duelle (1976) (Dir. Jacques Rivette)
Rivette's
Duelle (the femimine form of "duel") marries fantastic elements with a very naturalist preference which is refreshing in an age when this type of story requires a special effects budget of millions. Unfortunately, for a picture about gods and tantamount apocalypse, there is very little to chew on here. After recently praising Refn's
Drive (2011) for the import its silences carry, this picture has reassured me to never overlook silence again. While a pause can be a powerful tool in the right hands, it can also be a red flag for empty gesture.
Initially, I appreciated just how subdued a conflict of this magnitude could be portrayed. My experience with French film had led me to believe every story had to have serious themes and philosophic principles. From the Greek mythology I've read, it's all very simply put with much broader implications. That's the angle I believed this film to be taking and were it half an hour shorter, it might have gotten by in that way. Unfortunately, for all of Rivette's stunning visuals, excellent casting, and interesting choices in execution, this script is an absolute dud.
For starters, the one character in this film with any definition is tossed aside like an extra. The characters that survive her have motivations that aren't given any weight. Gods that wants to be human? An assassin under their spell turned against his own sister? Murder? Seduction? Immortality? There are a million ways to make these complex and thematic issues. There are countless monologues to be written. Instead, the most interesting conversation is about why a dancer uses a pseudonym and how much she hates her job.
The most climactic sequences of the film are frustratingly barren of dialogue when you expect some resolution in thought as much as in action. The scattered attempts at saying anything of note should confirm that this was a choice made out of necessity. Pretentious gets thrown around a lot, but
the dream is the night's aquarium fits the bill if any phrase ever has.
For anyone who sees a lack of narrative as a lack of substance, let this be a counter example. I kind of wish I would have watched it with the subtitles off. For all of the tracking shots and long takes, all of the cinematic locations, all of the fashion direction, the beauty here is only skin deep. Is this how people who don't enjoy Malick feel?
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