Camille Claudel

Rated: PGCamille Claudel

Directed by: Bruno Nuytten

Produced by: Isabelle Adjani, Bernard Artigues

Starring: Isabelle Adjani, Gérard Depardieu, Alain Cuny, Laurent Grévill, Madeleine Robinson.

Restored version

In French with English subtitles 

It is definitely worth a trip to Winsor for a coffee, a croissant and Camille Claudel.

As a part of their Isabelle Adjani retrospective, the 2019 Alliance Française Classic Film Festival is screening  the 1988 classic, which tells the story of Camille Claudel’s tragic romance with the sculptor Auguste Rodin (Gérard Depardieu).

As the film opens, Camille Claudel is out late at night and all alone. The wind howls, snow is falling, and, despite her full-length skirt and bonnet, Claudel is burrowing into a muddy pit, pawing handfuls of wet clay into a suitcase.

What could possibly inspire such single-minded determination? An audition to work as an assistant to Rodin. Yes. Absolutely. But beyond that, Claudel’s aspirations were so improbable that a film about her life had to be based on a true story. Even at the dawn of modernism, Claudel’s chosen art form was unlikely.

Sculpture has always been hideously expensive and working at scale meant long hours of backbreaking toil in freezing barns and stables. Much to her mother’s (Madeleine Robinson) displeasure, Monsieur Claudel (Alain Cuny) shared his daughter’s ambition and was happy to indulge her. Although, in the end, her father’s indulgence may have turned out to be a poison chalice.

Taken on as one assistant among many, Claudel is working high on a scaffold when her attention is drawn toward a nook on the other side of the studio. From her unseen vantage point she can see Rodin running his lips over his model’s naked flesh. His reputation as a seducer of young women would appear to be well-deserved, until the sculptor later uses the same gesture on a marble torso as he tries to feel the life within.

While kissing the sculptures is generally discouraged in galleries and museums, hewing form from rock is intense and physical, and the film beautifully alludes to the sculptor’s desire to caress the rock, to sensuously experience that moment when the curve of ankle or the bow of a lip first emerges from its casing.

In the role of Claudel’s mentor, Rodin offers keen insights into the nature of sculpture and subtly evokes its poetry, ‘The accident of what is left is a complete emotion,’ but Rodin was years behind in fulfilling his commissions and struggling for inspiration when the affair began. As his muse, his model, his lover and his artistic collaborator, Claudel was the focus of Rodin’s admiration and her name was becoming established at the epicentre of Parisian art, so it must have seemed inconceivable that it would all come apart.

When the unthinkable did happen, Claudel denounced Rodin as the arch-villain who destroyed her. She blamed him for everything from stealing her commissions to undermining her reputation and blighting her exhibitions. She even claimed that Rodin was somehow responsible for the river Seine when her studio flooded.

But there was another less obvious figure involved in Claudel’s downfall. While Claudel was conducting her affairs in the limelight, her younger brother (Laurent Grévill) had been pursuing a successful diplomatic career and quietly gaining recognition as a poet. Ever available and obliging, Paul Claudel was Camille’s closest ally; that is, until he came into his inheritance.

A singular woman in a world conducted by men with agendas, the story of Camille Claudel might not be quite as it appears.

Let The Sunshine In

Directed by: Claire DenisLet The Sunshine In

Screenplay Written by: Claire Denis & Christine Angot

Produced by: Olivier Delbosc

Starring: Juliette Binoche, Xavier Beauvois, Philippe Katerine, Josiane Balasko, Sandrine Dumas, Nicolas Duvauchelle, Alex Descas, Laurent Grevill, Bruno Podalydés, Paul Blain, Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi, Gérard Depardieu.

I wrote my thesis on, A Lover’s Discourse – Fragments (Ronald Barthes (1977)), using Hemingway’s writing in, The Garden of Eden (1986), Across the River and into the Trees (1950) and also his short fiction piece, Hills Like White Elephants (1927) as an illustration of Ronald Barthes theory:

That love cannot be expressed through language, that love is expressed through the ‘nothing’ that is not language, that it is the actions and gifts given because of love that signpost to the reader that the characters in the story are in love, or conversely, not in love.  Because of the nature of writing love, I have utilized Hemingway’s writing as a basis for Barthes’ theory – it is Hemingway that writes love and it is Barthes that writes of love.

Let the Sunshine In was originally based on the Discourse then evolved into a screenplay written by Claire Denis (also director) & Christine Angot where Isabelle (Juliette Binoche) falls in love, only to have her heart broken, to love again… and again…

Divorced and the mother of a ten-year-old daughter, we only see briefly as a face behind the window of a car pulling away, Isabelle mirroring the outline of her hand on the other side of the glass.  The love of her child is not what this film’s about.  This is a series of moments as Isabelle opens a dialogue with the men she means to love and all the complications and baggage finding love at an older age brings.

She’s not old; she’s not young.

Isabelle laments to a friend that she feels her love life is behind her.  The impossibility of each relationship revealing itself in complicated exchanges, each trying to find a way towards or away from the other.

The camera pans back and forth from the cheating husband who bluntly describes his extraordinary wife he will never leave, to the realisation on Isabelle’s face when she can’t find a way back to the love with this man after his blatant denial – no matter how charming he finds her.

We’ve all been there, the wondering of how much to give, how much to take.  For love.

Here, we see the pulling apart of feelings that are there, or not.  And the language, the limit of language as the lovers try to get past all the talk to find the physical connection.  And then, to keep it.

It’s a complicated film that manages to avoid melodrama, replacing physical expressed emotion with words.

I wonder how much was lost in the translation from French to the English subtitles, yet Barthes’ Discourse is what’s being translated with the depth of meaning still conveyed.

Putting love into words is a difficult conversation.

The expertise and experience of Juliette Binoche shines here.  I couldn’t imagine another actress portraying the vulnerability of Isabelle, the willingness to follow the reasoning behind the emotions from the other.  A heavy burden but a successful one.  Like reading a play because it’s all about the dialogue and the tears and expression and never-ending search for love.

Let the sunshine In isn’t a love story, nor a drama; it’s not sad.  It’s a lover’s discourse.

Subscribe to GoMovieReviews
Enter your email address for notification of new reviews - it's free!

 

Subscribe!