Diary of a Chambermaid marked the beginning of the final French phase of the career of legendary director Luis Buñuel. It's not in the top echelon of his works but a worthwhile entry amongst his second tier films.

Historical Background: Luis Buñuel had more cinematic lives than a cat. There was the short-lived period of youthful experimentation, when Buñuel was a charter member of an ideologically compact group of surrealists, stirring up controversy with the likes of Un Chien andalou (1928) and the masterful L’Age D’Or (1930). Then there were the frustrating years in America during which Buñuel's career got side-tracked, as he was relegated to work on military documentaries and Spanish-language versions of Hollywood films. Then, when he moved to Mexico in the 1950’s, his career was revitalized, leading to such masterpieces as Los Olvidados (1950) and El (1952).

Then, in 1955, Buñuel moved to France and quickly produced three noteworthy films in a period of five years: Death in the Garden (1955), Nazarin (1958), and The Young One (1960). Those films so thoroughly solidified Buñuel’s international reputation that they even earned him an invitation to return to his native Spain, which was still under the yoke of fascism. There, he directed the marvelous Viridiana (1961), which took the Golden Palm at the Cannes Film Festival (but was promptly banned in Spain). Buñuel returned briefly to Mexico, where he made The Exterminating Angel (1962). When producer Serge Silberman then approached Buñuel about doing an adaptation of Octave Mirbeau's erotic novel Journal d'une femme de chamber, Buñuel wanted to shoot the film in Mexico and cast Mexican actress Silvia Pinal as the lead, but Silberman would not agree. Silberman wanted the film made in France with a French star. As a result, Buñuel returned to France for what was to be one of the most productive phases of his career. Diary of a Chambermaid (1964) would be followed by such masterworks as Belle de Jour (1967), The Milky Way (1969), Tristana (1970), The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972), The Phantom of Liberty (1974), and That Obscure Object of Desire (1977). It was a remarkable string of successes.

The Story: A chicly dressed Parisian chambermaid, Célestine (Jeanne Moreau) makes her way by train through the countryside where she will take a position as a servant at a country estate. Joseph (Georges Géret), an outspoken and rude handyman, is there to meet her at the station, in the livery, when she arrives. He comments on her fashionable shoes, intimating that they just won't do for country living.

Célestine meets Madame Monteil (Françoise Lugagne), who is fully in charge of the household. She is obsessed with cleanliness and her valuable possessions, instructing Célestine in firm detail. From her fellow servants, Célestine learns that the Madame even keeps count of the sugar cubes to make sure none are stolen. Madame Monteil is sexually frigid, doing her utmost to avoid the duties of marriage to her randy husband, Monsieur Monteil (Michel Piccoli), who is unkempt and occupies himself mainly with hunting game and seducing the female servants (for that old amour fou, or "mad passion"). Madame's confidant, the parish priest, expresses his sympathy and dismay when she advises him that her husband demands sex as much as twice a week. The priest advises that, at the least, she should be certain not to enjoy it. Madame is obsessed with her douching regimen, operating a veritable chemistry laboratory in the bathroom to formulate the requisite concoctions.

Madame Monteil's father, Monsieur Rabour (Jean Ozenne), though the nominal head-of-household, is a doddering old man. He has a bit of a foot and leg fetish, but is otherwise gentile and harmless. He asks to put his hand of Célestine's calf as she reads to him, but makes no move toward higher regions. Later, he asks Célestine to wear a pair of boots that have some particular memory associations for him and to parade around his bedroom with her skirt slightly elevated. Later, he is found dead in his bed clinging to the boots. Madame Monteil's main concern is the inheritance tax.

Thus far, we're in the domain of relatively harmless hypocrisies and foibles, but the story takes a significantly darker turn when Joseph rapes and kills a young girl, Claire, in the woods of the estate. We had earlier seen him slaughter a goose and observed his evident delight in extending its suffering, so we have to imagine that poor Claire's end was brutal and ugly indeed. Célestine had taken a liking to Claire and, hearing the reports of her rape and murder, Célestine abruptly cancels her plans to return to Paris and decides to continue at the manor. She'll investigate for herself and she's already got the zealous bigot Joseph pegged as the most likely suspect. She'll use her erotic appeal to ingratiate herself with the various men who desperately desire her. This being a film by Buñuel, don't hold your breath waiting for either justice or heroics to emerge.

Themes: Clearly, at one level, Buñuel is back about his favorite business, in this film – ridiculing the conventions and corruptions of the bourgeoisie. Buñuel was an unsentimental social commentator who viewed human society as essentially devoid of morality. Few of his characters exhibit so much as a shred of human decency and even fewer are to be pitied. His approach in Diary of a Chambermaid is a good deal more realistic than in most of his other films, but the social mores and morality of the French are nevertheless properly skewered. The family for which the chambermaid works is thoroughly dysfunctional, but so too is the fawning and ineffectual priest, the vitriolic retired army officer next door, and the police officials who are more interested in obscure regulations than justice. Two of the characters flout their army credentials as though that alone were sufficient justification for loutish or criminal behavior. And always, the lower class servants are treated oppressively by the indolent upper-class gentry.

For half the film or so, it seems like Célestine might represent a singular moral vantage point. She seems to function mainly as a detached perspective for us as viewers, watching the pervasive immorality of her contemporaries with sly bemusement. There's a point in the film, as well, when she seems motivated mainly by a desire to seek justice for Claire, by uncovering the villain responsible for her rape and murder. In the end, however, Buñuel will allow us no exception, as Célestine is finally revealed as just another opportunist waiting her chance to climb to the top of the social food chain. Buñuel also leaves us with some perplexing ambiguity in relation to Célestine. Did she become Joseph's lover only to gather evidence of his involvement in the crime or was she perversely excited by his sadistic streak?

Having transposed Mirbeau's novel, written in 1900 and set in the Belle Epoque, into the 1930's, Buñuel was also able to provide the film with a richer political context. He suggests that the moral turpitude of the bourgeoisie created a fertile climate for the rise of reactionary politics, including nationalism and anti-Semitism. There's a character named Adolf and a police commissioner with a brush mustache. As the film draws to a close, a group of demonstrators shout, "Down with the Republic! Death to the Jews! Long live Chiappe!" Chiappe was the name of the rightwing agent who had suppressed Buñuel's film L’Age D’Or in 1930 and this was Buñuel's revenge. Personal moral perversions, according to Buñuel, lead to political perversions. Buñuel leaves us with no false hopes of easy justice, as the murderer is soon freed and pursuing his violent fascist agenda. Evil doesn't typically simply self-destruct.

Production Values: One special significance of Diary of a Chambermaid is that it was the first film that brought together Buñuel and screenwriter Jean-Claude Carrière, who would then continue to work together for the remainder of Buñuel's lifetime. Carrière also distinguished himself providing scripts for other directors, on such films as The Tin Drum (1979), Every Man for Himself (1980), Circle of Deceit (1981), The Return of Martin Guerre (1982), Danton (1983), The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988), and Cyrano de Bergerac (1990). The script for Diary of a Chambermaid is a good deal more straightforward than for the typical Buñuel film.

Renoir had adapted the same Mirbeau novel in 1946, but Buñuel made a point of not seeing the Renoir film before doing his own version. Renoir's version is much lighter and delivers an upbeat ending in which the gold-digging Célestine relents and gives a big chunk of her ill-gotten gains to poor townspeople. Buñuel's version is far more droll and satirical, as one might expect. The darkest element in Buñuel's rendition is when the sinister Joseph, in a mock reference to "Little Red Riding Hood," warns Claire to watch out for the wolves.

Buñuel was never one for a lot of stylistic flourishes or special effects in his films, but he was a master of ideas and storytelling. His tactic was to accumulate ideas and vignettes until the essence of the story fell into place. He then complemented the script construction with the details in his images, such as sexual or religious symbols, to deepen the story elements. Snails crawling along the dead girl's legs are one such example. As the film opens, Buñuel uses the view from the train on which Célestine is riding to establish both the geographical and the cultural distance that exists between Paris and this rural outpost. Thus, cinematography is an essential part of Buñuel's expository technique. He was fortunate to have Roger Fellous as his cinematographer as well as the gorgeous black-and-white Franscope technique. Fellous kept his exteriors in an almost perpetual mist to create a bit of gothic atmosphere to the film. The interiors underscore the decadent lifestyle of the wealthy, by the excess of gaudy, ornate furnishings.

Jeanne Moreau is outstanding as Célestine. This is a character whose motivations are ambiguous during much of the film and few actresses are better at disguising their inner feelings than Moreau. Dressed smartly in a sleek dress and stylish shoes, she gives us a sophisticated look and a nice range of expressions, but still manages to give nothing away. It was Silberman who suggested Moreau to Buñuel. Buñuel had only seen Moreau in the Malle film which first launched her career, Frantic (1957). They met over lunch and Buñuel liked the sway of her ankles, which he felt would be important to the foot fetish scene! She was a major French actress over several decades, with credits in such films as The Lovers (1959), A Woman is a Woman (1960), La Notte (1961), Jules and Jim (1962), The Trial (1963), Diary of a Chambermaid (1964), The Train (1965), Chimes at Midnight (1966), La Femme Nikita (1990), and Until the End of the World (1994).

George Géret does a quality job as Joseph. He was otherwise best known for a turn in The Stranger (1967). Françoise Lugagne was suitably domineering as Madame Monteil and Michel Piccoli duly pathetic as her over-sexed husband. Piccoli had a distinguished career, appearing in such films as French Cancan (1955), La Guerre est Finie (1966), Belle de Jour (1967), Topaz (1969), The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972), La Nuit de Varennes (1982), and Dangerous Moves (1984).

Bottom-Line: I'm not a big fan of the notion that personal perversions lead to political perversions, partly because either side of the political spectrum can play the "moral decay" trump card to claim moral superiority. Those on the right decry homosexuality, promiscuity, drug use, and atheism while those on the left bemoan imperialism, class disparities, fouling of the environment, and capitalist exploitation. My concern is with political immorality and I'll settle for each person governing their own personal morality as they see fit, so long as others are not adversely affected. Buñuel's cast of miscreants in Diary of a Chambermaid strike me as mostly harmlessly perverse characters, except for the murderer and the anti-Semites. A foot fetish or a frigid wife more or less, in the world, just doesn't raise my hackles.

Criterion provided their DVD of Diary of a Chambermaid with a stellar transfer, with crisp clear images. The booklet included with the DVD features a very interesting interview with Buñuel (covering topics from fetishes to psychoanalysis and surrealists), conducted by Mexican journalists, as well as an essay by film critic Michael Atkinson (which was not much to my taste, being more an exercise in "pretty" language than penetrating ideas). The DVD includes an interview with screenwriter Jean-Claude Carrière, who collaborated on all of Buñuel's late films. The original theatrical trailer is also included and, in this instance, is better than mere fodder. It consists of a montage of images from the film, narrated by Jeanne Moreau. Diary of a Chambermaid is in French, with new and improved English subtitle translations.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older