Plot Details: This opinion reveals major details about the movie's plot.
The world is made up of cliques, and not just the whole world, but every nation and every city. . . . Each of these cliques has its customs, its mores, indeed its own language. To put it simply, each has its rules, and these rules determine the game. Jean Renois, from the original scenario for The Rules of the Game
In 1939, Jean Renoir fashioned this remarkable combination of burlesque and tragedy in order to demonstrate how Europe had become “a rich society where we are dancing on a volcano.” Renoir, who had seen the brutality of war in the trenches of World War I, resented the French haute bourgeoisie – the wealthy upper middle class – who he blamed for the imminent tragedy that was about to befall Europe in the form of World War II. He set out to skewer the decadence and deceits of the aristocracy by means of a bedroom farce, with husbands, wives, lovers and mistresses, maids and servants all mixing it up in lively adulterous fashion.
Historical Background: In the 1930’s, Renoir had become the film voice of the left-wing in France. In 1934, with the cloud of Fascism rising in Italy, Spain, and Germany, he had made a film entitled La Vie est à Nous for the French Communist party. By 1939, the inevitability of World War II hung over Europe like a cloud and Renoir felt that he needed to give artistic expression to his sense of the blindness and self-absorption of the haute bourgeoisie that he believed to be largely responsible for the hopeless situation existing in Europe. After his successes in 1938 with Grand Illusion and La Bête humaine, he was able to open his own production company for filming The Rules of the Game. It was a relatively expensive production by the standards of 1939.
When the film was released, it was, in Renoir’s own words, “a magnificent flop, perfect, complete.” Audiences booed and jeered. Many walked out and one gentleman set fire to his newspaper, intending to burn down the theater where the film was being exhibited. The critics attacked the film relentlessly. Renoir was devastated and desperately tried to save the film and himself from financial disaster by trimming scenes here and there. But it was useless. Within a few weeks, the opening run was canceled. Soon, it was banned as “demoralizing.” To add injury to insult, when the German tanks rolled into France less than a year later, the Nazis confiscated and destroyed as many copies of the film as they could locate. By then, Renoir had fled to America to escape Nazi persecution.
From the vantage point of the twenty-first century, it is not easy to understand why such a seemingly innocuous film would engender so much dismay and outrage. Renoir’s own explanation was that “They recognized themselves.” He thought the audiences’s reaction attributable to his candor. “This is something that people do not like; the truth makes them feel uncomfortable.” Like the characters Andre Jurieu and Christine in The Rules of the Game, Renoir had failed to conceal the truth through the usual comedy of manners. Thus, the reception of the film recapitulated the theme of the film. Renoir broke the rules of the game.
The Story: An aviator, Andre Jurieu (Roland Toutain), has just landed in Paris after completing a trans-Atlantic solo flight only ten years after the first such flight by Charles Lindbergh. At the airport, he is met by his friend, Octave (played by Jean Renoir himself) and a crowd of reporters and admirers, including the pushy radio reporter Lise Elina (she was an actual reporter of the day). His only comment for the public is a whiny complaint that he had done it for a woman and that she hadn’t even bothered to show up for his arrival. The woman, it turns out, is Christine de la Cheyniest, wife of a successful aristocratic lawyer and Jew, Robert de la Cheyniest. As Andre is being interviewed at the airport, we see crosscuts to Christine in her boudoir passively listening to the interview and then turning the radio off. Christine’s maid and confidant, Lisette (Paulette Dubost), offers that men can sometimes be pretty useless and can never be merely friends. Christine’s husband, Marquis Robert (Marcel Dalio), has also been listening and is pleased to note Christine’s nonchalance about her lover’s distress. According to the “rules of the game” in this society, it is fine to have your lovers on the side, so long as the flings remain casual and one doesn’t get overly attached. Robert is so pleased, in fact, that he calls his mistress, Genevieve (Mila Parely), who he has tired of in any case, to set up an opportunity to end their affair.
To his friend Octave, Andre seems distressed to the point of being suicidal, especially when he drives their automobile into a ditch. Octave urges Andre to pull himself together and offers to arrange an opportunity for him to settle things with Christine. Octave and Christine have been friends for many years because Octave studied under Christine’s father, a famous Austrian conductor. Octave uses his considerable tact and manipulative skills to convince both Christine and Robert that including Andre on the guest list for their upcoming party at their country estate (called “La Coliniere”) would be advantageous to all parties.
The bulk of the story transpires at La Coliniere where friends, neighbors, lovers, and servants have all gathered for a week long event, consisting of feasts, a hunt, amateur performances, and a ball. The intrigues center around two love triangles and one quadrangle. The love quadrangle is composed of Christine and the three men who love her – her husband, Andre the aviator, and her old friend Octave, who secretly harbors amorous feelings for Christine as well. One of the love triangles is comprised of Christine, Marquis Robert, and his mistress, Genevieve. The other is among the lower class servants. It involves Christine’s maid Lisette, Lisette’s husband Schumacher (Gaston Modot), who is gamekeeper at La Coliniere, and a poacher named Marceau, newly taken on as a domestic (over the objections of Schumacher) by the Marquis. Lisette is a little vixen who is interested in just about any man other than her husband. It suits her just fine that she lives most of the time in Paris with the mistress, Christine, while her husband spends most of his time on the country estate. Secondary characters include a retired general (Pierre Magnier), a country neighbor, the chef, and various other servants and guests.
The centerpiece of the film is an extensive hunting scene in which the servants drive the rabbits, pheasants, and quail through the woods to the ladies and gentleman waiting with shotguns and rifles behind blinds. In what amounts to a massacre, a dozen of these critters are heartlessly mowed down for the mere sport of it.
Another remarkable scene begins with some amateur entertainment provided by some of the principals that later leads to a masquerade ball. Adulterous dalliances are undertaken in every corner, although all of it is limited to smooching and petting and nothing remotely close to explicit or, even, implicit sex. Robert, Genevieve, Lisette, and Marceau play by the rules of the game – casually pursuing whatever opportunities come along without taking any of it too seriously. When Robert, for example, catches one of the guests kissing Christine, a few fisticuffs are more than enough to satisfy his sense of justice. Christine, Andre, and Schumacher, on the other hand, haven’t got the rules down. Christine, all innocence and naivety, is actually trying to follow the dictates of her heart, though without a lot of success, and hopes to discover who it is that she truly loves. The heroic Andre believes himself in love with Christine and hopes to run off with her. Schumacher, with his uncouth lower class background, is prepared to kill anyone he catches snuggling with his wife, Lisette. In something akin to slapstick, we see Schumacher chasing Marceau around with a pistol, weaving in and out among the guests – some of whom mistake the proceedings as another part of the evening’s entertainment. It is exquisitely humorous mayhem.
The denouement adds in an element of mistaken identity. The violence prone Schumacher spots a woman whom he believes to be Lisette with Octave. Octave leaves, lends his coat to another man, and when the latter returns, he is shot dead by Schumacher for no good reason. I’ll let you discover for yourself the identity of the tragic victim and how the film concludes from there.
Themes: The most direct theme of the film is the emptiness of relationships, effectively articulated by one of the characters of the film, “Love as it exists in society is merely the mingling of two whims and the contact of two skins.” Renoir doesn’t rail on the point. He simply lets the characters exhibit their shallowness without moralizing or interjecting commentary. Everyone in this caper is equally culpable yet not especially unlikable. All must play their roles in a game that is illusory – or risk being annihilated, like the rabbits and pheasants mowed down in their innocence.
Renoir had a deep interest in class distinctions. At the time when he made The Rules of the Game, he had developed an interest in exploring themes through the tactic of opposing pairs. Here he uses contrasting love triangles to explore differences in how the upper class and the working class of servants deal with jealousy and cuckoldry.
There is a deeper message however, than mere reflection on marital infidelity. The chronic lying and deceit and role playing portrayed in The Rules of the Game is stand-in for the political intrigue and moral decay on an international scale that existed in 1939 and that was setting the stage for the horrors of Fascism, Nazism, World War II, and the Holocaust. It is no accident that The Rules of the Game suddenly transitions from frothy farce to tragedy.
My one criticism of this film is the implied link between sexual morality and political morality – which I frankly don’t believe exists. In America, for example, the political right is associated with moral rigidity on sexual issues (including homosexuality, abstinence vs. birth control, and abortion) but an aggressive military posture. The political left tends to be more “lax” on issues related to sexuality and reproduction but more averse to military adventurism. Personally, I don’t really care very much about who is sleeping with whom – whether in the ruling class, the middle class, or the working class. What I care about as a moral issue is who is killing whom. I hate to see the notion of “moral decay” depicted primarily in relation to promiscuity.
Production Values: Renoir’s directorial style is the antithesis of that of, say, Jean-Luc Godard. Where Godard inserts himself into the film in a way that ensures that you never lose consciousness of who is making the film, Renoir embodied the concept of “invisibility.” While every shot is masterfully constructed, it is done in such a guileless way that you’re never aware of Renoir’s presence as you enjoy his work of art. It is a style far more to my likely than the self-centered haut-auteur approach. Renoir is never intrusive. Renoir also respects the intelligence of his audience, unlike the Hollywood directors that crank out films for mass consumption today. Renoir assumes you can follow multiple layers and interweaving threads without having everything hammered home.
One great and memorable scene is the hunt. Renoir establishes pace in this scene by cutting between 51 separate shots in four minutes. The pinnacle is a carnage consisting of 22 rifles shots in 53 seconds resulting in 12 dead animals. It is a sorry sight but an apt depiction of the frivolity of entertainment among the bored and indolent aristocracy and the disregard for life.
Another amazing scene occurs when the Marquis decides to unveil his new favorite toy to the audience assembled for the amateur performances. It is a magnificent calliope that plays circus-like music while three mechanical figures strike bells and chimes. For this scene, Dalio, who played the Marquis, merely had to stand proudly next to his beautiful new gadget but the scene had to be reshot over and over for two days. Why? Because Renoir wanted perfection. “The facial expression had to be exact – proud, and a little embarrassed to be so proud, and delighted, but a little shy to reveal it.” Now watch that scene and you’ll be amazed to see all of those elements expressed on Dalio’s face simultaneously! Renoir claimed it was the single best shot he ever filmed. I wouldn’t argue the point.
The cinematography was provided by cameraman Jean Brachelet. He and Renoir ordered special “fast lenses” for the shoot that provide for what’s called the “deep-focus” technique. The great Japanese director, Kurosawa, was later famous for using this same methodology. It allows action to proceed simultaneously in the foreground, middle ground, and background. Renoir uses this opportunity to stunning effect. At times, one subplot will be advancing in the foreground while another proceeds somewhere behind. Or, the storyline will gracefully glide from one plot line to another without changing the shot, simply by moving from foreground action to background action. Sometimes, as a viewer, you don’t consciously notice what’s happening in the background, but it feeds into your subconscious understanding and appreciation of how the plot elements are advancing. One especially potent example of this multi-layered technique occurs when Robert and Andre are talking in the foreground about what a great and dependable friend Octave is while in the background we see Octave entering to get his coat so that he can run off with Christine! In other words, what is happening in the background is directly contradicting what is happening in the foreground at the very same moment. This mastery of shot composition is part of what makes Renoir revered as one of the greatest directors of all time. It is an art largely lost on the Hollywood of today.
Renoir is also famous for the perfect framing of his shots and for the mise-en-scene. Every frame of a Renoir film is akin to one of his father’s painting. Lighting and props are carefully selected to convey subconscious information. In many films, for example, good characters speaking truthfully are typically situated in a brightly lit space while bad characters and liars speak from the shadows. In The Rules of the Game, since one point of the film is that all of us both act out parts and sometimes behave genuinely from our hearts, each character moves between shadow and light.
The Rules of the Game had no one star or one central character. It is a true ensemble piece, which was very unusual for films of the 1930’s, but this structure served Renoir’s purposes well. He wanted the satire to reflect on an entire class of people – the haute bourgeoisie – rather than individual characters.
The characters in this tale are complex and multifaceted – making it all the harder for audiences to dismiss the shallowness of their relationships as an aberration afflicting just a few abnormal individuals. Robert, for example, exhibits flashes of insight, a genuine love for his mechanical instrument, a tenderness toward his wife, and a compassion for Marceau despite being a habitual liar and cad. Octave, the meddling court jester, is capable of true friendship to Andre and Christine. He’s dependable – except when his own desire for Christine gets the best of him. Nora Grégor was an actual Austrian princess – Princess Stahremberg – with no prior acting experience. She displays an artless uncertainty at times that is perfect for her part as the innocent Christine, struggling to discover her own true feelings.
Bottom-Line: The Criterion DVD has restored this film by the reinsertion of deleted scenes, with Jean Renoir’s approval, to a length of 106 minutes. It was 94 minutes at the time of its release but after its disastrous reception was cut by Renoir to just 81 minutes. The special edition DVD is a two disc set loaded with as fine an array of extras as you’ll find on any DVD. There is an Introduction by Renoir, a Commentary Track written by Alexander Sesonske, an analysis of two key scenes by Chris Faulkner (that I found fascinating), an alternative ending that existed for the shorter version of the film, two documentaries on Jean Renoir, a video essay on the film’s production and reconstruction, and interviews with cast and crew members. The restoration process has given new life to this cherished masterpiece.
The Rules of the Game is an amazing film – as precisely crafted as one of the Marquis’ treasured mechanical instruments. This is one of the greatest films ever made. No doubt about it! It is in French with English subtitles and has a running time of 106 minutes.
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Widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made, Jean Renoir s masterpiece The Rules of the Game is a scathing critique of corrupt French socie...More at Buy.com
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