Adieu to Bertrand Tavernier; bonjour to the home video debut of his splendid follow-up series, JOURNEYS THROUGH FRENCH CINEMA

 

Copyright: Jean Luc Mège Collection Institut Lumiere

Viewing JOURNEYS THROUGH FRENCH CINEMA -- the eight-hour/eight-part series that acts as a kind of follow-up to Bertrand Tavernier's wondrous documentary, My Journey Through French Cinema from 2016 -- and having that viewing interrupted by the news of M. Tavernier's death turned the experience into something else entirely. Knowing that we will have no more from this fellow who proved himself a fine filmmaker and film historian who, over his long career, managed everything from publicity to criticism to on occasion even making certain a film received distribution, I should think that cineasts worldwide are in mourning.

On the other hand, surely this is also a time of rejoicing and celebrating all that Tavernier has given us, from films such as Safe Conduct and Captain Conan to this latest and (I am guessing) last major effort that covers all the things he left out of his original, three-hour-and-21-minute-long documentary. 

As in the former film, the new series proves just as much a very personal trip that highlights Tavernier's own preferences and judgments. And yet, so inclusive, honest yet rigorous is this man that, even as he points out some faults in various filmmakers, he is also able to show us their special strengths, along with why certain films -- or scenes from them -- still act as important landmarks along the path.

The series -- on two discs -- is divided into eight episodes, each one just a minute or two under a full hour.  Episode One covers three of Tavernier's favorite filmmakers: Jean Grémillon, Max Ophuls and Henri Decoin, and his assessment will have you seeking out the work of Grémillon, while Decoin's, as he explains, proves a good deal more than merely commercial. (You'll certainly already know the films of Ophuls.)

Episode Two includes two more of his favorites: Sacha Guitry and Marcel Pagnol -- mine, too! -- both of whom have been out of favor critically for far too long, along with Jacques Tati and Robert Bresson, who have not. No matter where you stand on the work of these guys, Tavernier's visuals and commentary will enrich your understanding. This section also includes a lovely shout-out to the importance of a good producer.

 Julien Duvivier and music in cinema are the subjects of Episode Three, and our narrator offers a wonderful appreciation of what music can and has done for French film, as well as a fine and surprisingly full look at much of the work of this under-appreciated filmmaker. (There's an interesting comparison of the French and American versions of the Pépé le Moko story (aka Algiers here in the USA.) 

One of the fascinating sections is Episode Four, which deals with pre-World War II foreign directors in France (and how the French film industry was so very set against them:  The "French resistance" takes on a whole new meaning here), cinema during the period of Nazi occupation, and finally the postwar period. One of the funniest of Tavernier's many charming anecdotes involves Jack Valenti, the quota for American films shown in France during this time, and how a portion of ticket sales from these went to support the French film industry.

From Occupation to The New Wave (Episode Five) covers filmmakers such as Claude Autant-Lara, René Clément and Henri Georges Clouzot. The final and beautiful monologue about the filmmaking profession ends with a description of the director that is as poetic, succinct and brilliant as anything you'll have heard.

Forgotten Filmmakers (Episode Six) includes the work of Raymond Bernard (you'll want to see Wooden Crosses after this!), Maurice Tourneur (get a load of Maurice Chevalier in With a Smile) and Anatole Litvak (whose films made both in France and America are ripe for rediscovery).

Episode Seven, Underrated Directors, offers up filmmakers like Jean Vallée (who, according to Tavernier, gave us the first French film in color!), Pierre Chenal (he directed Native Son!) and Henri Calef, (whose The Hour of Truth does something original and powerful with The Holocaust), none of whom TrustMovies was familiar with, so this section, too, proved unmissable. However, the rather paltry section on French female filmmakers is no fault of Tavernier, who points out that, no matter how small the amount of woman filmmakers had been prior to Agnès Varda -- only five! -- this was still more women directors in film than there were high-level women in French politics at this same time.

The finale Episode, number eight, deals with Tavernier himself and his various jobs within the film industry. Some of this we've seen and heard previously, but his work as press agent under Pierre Rissient makes for some delightful remembrances, including how the pair worked with directors such as Jacques Deray, José Giovanni and Yves Boisset. The film ends with a lovely appreciation of Alain Resnais and then, surprise!, Christian-Jaque. I wish there were more.

From Cohen Media Group and Kino Lorber, Journeys Through French Cinema is available now on DVD and Blu-ray. Digital streaming? Yes: Click here for more info. It's a bit expensive to see the entire series ($20), but it's worth the price. This is too good a trip to pass up.

Bertrand Tavernier's MY JOURNEY THROUGH FRENCH CINEMA opens in L.A. and New York

As its title decrees, the trip that French filmmaker Bertrand Tavernier takes in his new documentary, MY JOURNEY THROUGH FRENCH CINEMA, is a very personal one. Some film buffs may quibble -- perhaps even become a bit appalled -- at what has been left out here, yet so enjoyable, rich and often quite moving is Tavernier's account of his own life and the ways in which film has filled it that I can't imagine anyone who appreciates this man's work not being immediately and continuously swept away by his movie.

The 76-year-old M. Tavernier, shown at right, was a "war baby," born during the occupation of France by Nazi Germany. From an early age, film was a kind of escape and, finally, a hugely important part of his teenage and adult life. He communicates all this via his remembrances in his thoughtful, moving narration, and with film clips of (by my count) just over 100 different movies! Granted, these are mostly snippets, but if you've seen many of the films (as most buffs will have) they'll resonate strongly, and even when you haven't, thanks to his fine narration, the reasons why they and their directors are important will shine through.

Our host begins (and devotes a good deal of time) to the work of Jacques Becker, a filmmaker -- Le trou, (below), Casque d'Or (above, with Simone Signoret), Touchez pas au grisbi -- not as well known to Americans as many other French directors but (in Tavernier's and my own view) just as important. After this segment, you'll definitely want to bone up on Becker. From there we move to another great filmmaker, Jean Renoir, about whom we learn, among other things, that he was, according to the great actor Jean Gabin: "As a filmmaker, a genius; as a person, a whore." You'll understand better just why, once you've experienced Tavernier's quietly thoughtful, honest and encompassing view.

Gabin (shown at bottom,with Jeanne Moreau) gets his own wonderful section, too, as does actor Eddie Constantine (below), who provides some of the doc's funniest, wittiest moments, before which we get a very interesting section devoted to Marcel Carné, a noted director about whom Tavernier tells us, "Few filmmakers have been attacked by their colleagues as much as has Carné."

Along the way composers such as Maurice Jaubert are given their due, as are much lesser known directors like Jean Sasha (though the IMDB spells it Sacha, it's Sasha in the doc's subtitles). We see and hear a bit from early Truffaut, and learn quite a lot about the work of an interesting journeyman director, Edmond Gréville, who made both French- and English-language films.

As Tavernier's adult life takes off, we're made privy to all sorts of fun and interesting anecdotes, especially regarding his time as an assistant to filmmaker Jean-Pierre Melville. an asshole extraordinaire who was also supremely talented, about whom we learn a lot here, including Tavernier's assessment (correct, I think) of Melville's lesser capabilities as screenwriter. And did you know that Tavernier first encountered Melville's movie, Bob le flambeur, at a theater that offered a burlesque show between screenings? It's this sort of diversion that adds to the documentary's fun.

From the much-appreciated Melville, we move to the less-so Claude Sautet -- this section will make you want to take another look at Sautet's work,such as Max and the Junkmen, above -- and to Tavernier's time doing PR at Rome-Paris Films.

Here we encounter everyone from Chabrol to Varda (that's Corinne Marchand in Cleo from 5 to 7, above) to, yes, Godard, And we learn (very briefly) how our host then went on to a career as a writer and director. Mostly, though, it's other people's films that matter more to Tavernier. And once you've experienced this lovely documentary, they're going to matter more to you, too.

From Cohen Media Group, in French with English subtitles and running, yes, three hours and 20 minutes (not a one of them I would want to give up), the documentary opens tomorrow, Friday, June 23, in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Royal) and New York City (at the Quad Cinema) and in the weeks to come in at least another half dozen cities. Click here and scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

Love, war and religion: Tavernier's PRINCESS OF MONTPENSIER opens

I'd see any movie by Bertrand Tavernier, usually more than once, and his latest -- THE PRINCESS OF MONTPENSIER -- is no exception, though my immediate reaction is to rank it in the lower sector of his films rather than the higher (Captain Conan, Ça commence aujourd'hui, Safe Conduct). This may be due to my being very tired when I saw it (a four-film day, of which it was the third -- though I must say that I perked up noticeably for the fourth film). A historical pageant of love and betrayal during the 16th century religious wars in France, the movie is gorgeous to view and offers some riveting battle scenes, both large & intimate.

M. Tavernier, shown at right, is a master at most genres he has attempted and, at the very least, good enough at the others. It's been awhile since he's given us an historical swashbuckler (remember the delightful Revenge of the Musketeers, aka D'Artagnan's Daughter?).  If his "Princess" initially looks like more of this swash, it is actually a good deal more serious in theme and execution, despite the sword-fights, horseback chases, and pile-up of corpses along the way.

The filmmaker has assembled a fine cast, all of whom handle period chores with flair and command. The lovely Mélanie Thierry (on poster, top, and above) plays the title princess, an intelligent young woman struggling with love, morals and the politics of the day. She's surrounded by many admirers, two of which come most heavily to the fore Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet (below, left, her eventual husband) and the "love of her life" (Gaspard Ulliel, below, right).

Though the princess is the title character, it's her tutor Lambert Wilson (below) who's the moral and emotional center of the film. M. Wilson, currently on U.S. screens in Of Gods and Men, is terrific, as usual: brave, grave and gorgeous, intelligent and caring. In addition, there is another intriguer, Raphaël Personnaz (as the semi-sleazy royalty, shown at bottom), who may indeed have a thing for our princess and most definitely has a thing for control.

Unfortunately, we're badgered continually with the would-be love affairs of the princess, and for all the fine acting, sets, costumes, cinematography and editing on display, these grow somewhat tedious before the film's 2 hours and 20 minutes are up. With nothing more than a hunch to go on, I wonder if Tavernier might have been a bit too true to the original material upon which the film is based (the short story by Madame de La Fayette, 1634–1693), rather than -- not updating it, certainly, but -- adapting it with more of an eye to modern sensibilities. As it is, we're continually made aware of the time period (and the place of women in that period), of the court intrigue and of parental control -- until we want to cry uncle: "We get it! OK?"

The Princess of Montpensier, from Sundance Selects,  open this Friday, April 15, in New York City at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and the IFC Center. It will open simultane-ously in the Los Angeles area at the Laemmle theaters' Royal, Music Hall 3, Playhouse 7 and Town Center 5.

 Look for a limited nationwide roll-out to follow in the weeks/
months to come. The film will also be available via VOD beginning April 20.