Rating:




by Derek Smith 7/6/09
In his introduction
to Rules of
the Game, Jean Renoir calls France “a society rotten to the core.” The title of his masterpiece clearly conveys
his intention to deconstruct the nature of this rottenness and examine
the
deeply embedded roots present in every aspect of the class system. Renoir’s film, however, is not considered
one of the all-time greats only for exposing the rules (as amazingly as
it does
just that), but for the remarkably humanity and humor seamlessly
integrated
into his presentation. Two years before
Orson Welles filmed Citizen Kane, Renoir employed his own
subtle yet
complex and thematically relevant use of deep focus to portray the
world as a
stage upon which his various romantic entanglements and class clashes
play
out. Within the frame, there are often
multiple dramas occurring at once, often with the veneer of secrecy yet
whose
true motivations would be obvious to anyone not engrossed by their own
backroom
dealings - that being the audience, certainly not the characters. The deep focus along with a careful
attention to the importance of spaces (both public and private, natural
and
artificial/domestic) allow Renoir to reveal the quietly destructive
repercussions of the rules of social interaction and class entitlement
that not
only dictate the limitations of behavior, but have become the sole
driving
force behind it.
Robert‘s
obsession with mechanical
birds and the mansion’s ancient African sculptures function as the
film’s major
thematic motif – reminders of past connections to genuine,
instinct-driven
living that have been rendered cold and lifeless; objects that
represent the
conquering of more basal, survivalist mode of life in favor of a more
proper
and refined one. Existence in this society
is performative and honesty is bent and shaped by the duties each
character has
accepted based on their prescribed social status. The
central love triangle, which is quickly revealed as a more
web-like structure within which many other characters have been
ensnared, is
the most fully developed representation of the extent to which
artificially
constructed modes of conduct cause the characters to act counter to
their own
feelings or best interests. André’s
public declaration of love for Christine is one of the few times a
character
explicitly breaks the rules by speaking his or her mind - a single act
that is
ultimately the catalyst for the tragedy which caps the end of the film. The misunderstandings sprinkled throughout
the film are born of the inherent insincerity of their conversations
and
relationships, yet what at first is seemingly innocuous eventually
becomes
lethal. What is truly the tragedy of
the film, and what I imagine Renoir himself was getting at when he
spoke of
French society being rotten to the core, is how stringently the
characters
enforce the restrictions that prevent their own happiness and, even
more
importantly, that these codes of behavior are so deeply engrained in
their
society, that rebellion leads not to freedom but outright rejection,
either on
an individual or a social level. It is
inescapably circular, a snake eating its tail and no matter which
direction you
run, you’re either victim or victimizer.
If Octave learns anything in the end, it’s that it’s
sometimes safer to
remain still.