VIVA MARIA (Louis Malle, 1965) is the only film I’ve been able to see from The Garden’s Cinema JEANNE MOREAU SEASON, and what bliss it was: buoyant, witty, cuttingly anti-clerical. The audience leaned middle-aged/ elderly and laughed out loud throughout. Conceived as a subversion of the male buddy film and inspired by Burt Lancaster and Gary Cooper in VERA CRUZ. Brigitte Bardot and Jeanne Moreau are showgirls making a living strip-teasing through the colonies and end up leading a revolution that succeeds in liberating San Miguel, a fictional country. Bardot plays the daughter of an Irish revolutionary and is an expert in anything to do with gun-powder. Moreau had been a legitimate actress and mines the classics for speeches declaimed to inspire the masses. Bardot is particularly charming in this kind of farce. She reminds me of Cher in her TV series days: She’s no Carole Lombard but she’s game, up for anything, and extremely charming with it. This light- as-air musical farce is backed up by some heavy-weight talents: producer Oscar Dancingers (VIRIDIANA), Jean-Claude Carrière (who wrote so many Buñuel classics such as THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE; THE DISCREET CHARM OF THE BOURGEOISIE), the great Henri Decoin as dop, Pierre Cardin did the clothes, even Volker Schlöndorff is in the credits as an assistant. It’s the kind of film in which George Hamilton is perfectly passable as a revolutionary; Moreau and Bardot become worshipped by the masses as two virgin Marys and clerical torture devices fall apart mid-way because they haven’t been used since the Inquisition. The slogans of the era crop up everywhere and there’s something delightful about Bardot’s warning that ‘property is theft’. Indeed, it was all delightful and, of course, banned in Texas for the sex and the anti-clericalism.
Tag Archives: Jeanne Moreau
THE BRIDE WORE BLACK/ La Mariée était en noir (François Truffaut, 1968)
Saw Truffaut’s THE BRIDE WORE BLACK yesterday, a clear homage to Hitchcock in many ways but without any of the visual precision or flair one would normally expect of either filmmaker. I’m puzzled by this film. It’s a very enjoyable watch — according to Truffaut, an exercise in plot based on a novel by Cornell Woollrich — and it definitely works on that level. Plus, there’s Jeanne Moreau, impassive and beautiful, floating around the film killing men in a series of modish Pierre Cardin dresses – only in black or white or a combination thereof, as if wearing that moment of transition from bride to widow, from hope to despair. She’s the bride whose husband was killed on the steps of the church minutes after their marriage. Those responsible are a bunch of bored laddish middle-class messieurs out drinking, having fun and playing irresponsibly with guns. The shooting was an accident. But they’re going to pay. She sees her life as forever ruined, is out to kill each and every one of them – and does. Someone might make a case for the film being feminist. Truffaut himself does, tentatively, in one of the extras in the blu-ray . The film definitely ‘sides’ with the Jeanne Moreau character. All the men are on the make, even at their own engagement parties. They each objectify and try to make out with the widow – who has no compulsions telling them how boorish they are before killing them. But the film seems to revel more in the men’s attempts at seduction – it’s so at one with a particular playboy ideology of the time, at least a French variant – that it fails to convey the moral urgency in Moreau’s actions much less the fun in her revenge. For a Hitchcock homage favouring plot, it’s a film curiously lacking in suspense. Bernard Herrman did the score. Truffaut argued with Raould Coutard about the cinematography and use of colour, and one only has to see the film to see why they would; it’s at best unremarkable (and I dislike all those zooms, no less annoying for then being so characteristic). It was critically panned but a big success on its initial release, and both are perfectly understandable now. What isn’t is the current critical elevation.
José Arroyo
Burt hits his mark in The Train

Almodóvar/Jeanne Moreau
Amodóvar recognised the mystery and enchantment of Jeanne Moreau’s voice and shared his appreciation of it in this moment of cinephilia from Broken Embraces.
José Arroyo
It would be too cheap




