L’Argent is a minimalist kind of film by Robert Bresson dealing with such deep issues as economic disparities, money as the great corrupter, the “unfairness” of seemingly random tragedies, and moral responsibility. There is nothing light or breezy about this film as compensation for such ponderous issues.

Historical Background: Robert Bresson was a meticulous craftsman as a filmmaker, making only about a dozen films over a forty year career. His conception of filmmaking was, however, quite distinctive and it is easy for viewers to imagine that some of the elements usually seen in films but intentionally omitted by Bresson are deficits. Bresson’s preoccupation was with moral and religious issues rather than entertainment. He therefore adopted a minimalist approach to ensure that nothing would distract viewers from his thematic material. His best known works include Diary of a Country Priest (1950), A Man Escaped (1956), Pickpocket (1959), Trial of Joan of Arc (1962), Au Hasard, Balthazar (1966) A Gentle Woman (1969), Four Nights of a Dreamer (1971), Lancelot of the Lake (1974), and The Devil, Probably (1977). His last film was the present one, L’Argent (1983).

The Story: A young lad named Norbert (Marc Ernest Fourneau), from a wealthy French family, owes money to a friend, Martial (Bruno Lapeyre), and asks his father, unsuccessfully, for an advance on his allowance. Martial then goads Norbert into passing a forged 500 franc note at a shop that sells photographic equipment. The unwitting cashier (Béatrice Tabourin) at the shop accepts the note but is later chastised by her boss (Didier Baussy), who recognizes that it is counterfeit, complaining that it is the third one they’ve been handed this week. He decides to pass the bill on rather than take the loss, giving it to an unsuspecting oil company serviceman, Yvon Targe (Christian Patey), who we soon realize is the film’s protagonist.

Yvon uses the counterfeit bill to pay for lunch at a restaurant but the bill is recognized as counterfeit and the police are notified. Yvon is arrested for passing forged currency. Yvon hires a lawyer to defend him during the proceedings, but the photographer gives perjured testimony and induces an assistant, Lucien (Vincent Risterucci), to collaborate his story. Both deny having seen Yvon or passing him the bill. Yvon, whose appearance and reticent nature render him somewhat suspicious, loses his job as a result of the blemish on his record and is unable to secure new employment.

Desperate to support his family, Yvon bungles a robbery attempt and is sent to prison for three years. While there, his only child dies and his wife abandons him. Yvon becomes bitter and hardened and, upon release from prison, turns to more serious crime, murdering an entire household, including a woman who had befriended him.

Themes: Bresson films are all about themes. He strips away all of the casual pleasures for film-goers. Plot is minimized. There are no gorgeous stars to ogle. There’s really little else to do during a Bresson film than pay attention to the thematic elements. The themes in Bresson films usually have to do with his coming to grips with his Catholic heritage and this film is no exception. There are three major themes, all interrelated. The first has to do with what might be called the chance element in life. Most people understand that what we extract from life in the way of spiritual, emotional, and material satisfactions or, conversely, what we suffer by way of pains and repercussions relates in part to our own choices and actions and in another part to good or bad luck. Adages like “we make our own luck” are only partly true. Human will can to some extent shape the chaos of existence but not entirely. You might, for example, eat an ideal diet and exercise regularly and still die young. You might smoke two packs of cigarettes a day and live to ninety-eight. Healthy choices improve your odds of a long and healthy life, but there are still factors that can't be controlled. The same point can be made in relation to the morality of one’s behavior. Overall, good guys and gals come out ahead more often than reprehensible sinners, but not always. Most films (as well as novels, myths, and fairytales) reinforce for viewers the relationship between moral behavior and living happily ever after. It’s part of the role that such works have to play in promoting social order. Works of art do not as often emphasize the chance element in outcomes for the very reason that art is often viewed as expected to encourage people to assume responsibility for their actions and to feel empowered to affect their own destinies.

One remarkable thing about L’Argent is that it is essentially emphasizing the chance element in human destinies. We observe a string of cause and effect events that begin with a man denying his son an advance on his allowance which then seemingly culminate in a multiple homicide. It is not an implausible scenario. One could create dozens of others to make a similar point. For example, you decide that you will spend the afternoon volunteering your time for your favorite charity – a well-intentioned and beneficent choice. While driving to the site, you are spotted driving past by a friend in another vehicle. That momentary distraction causes your friend to collide with another vehicle which then careens into a woman pushing a baby carriage, killing them both instantly. Well-intended acts sometimes lead to unforeseeable adverse effects. For that matter, immoral actions sometimes unpredictably culminate in some positive outcome.

Why do some people die young? Why do some parents tragically lose a child, to disease or murder or kidnapping? Why one person and not another? There are no simple, rational answers to such questions and, especially, none that are emotionally satisfying to those who suffer what seem to be “unfair” tragedies. Theology's answer is to call such unexplainable events God’s design or God’s will. Theology further argues that the only way to learn to live with the randomness of tragedies is to accept God’s will – which is also sometimes referred to as finding Grace. For non-religious types, the task is still more or less the same. It’s only the choice of words that changes. One short, if crude, vernacular expression of the issue is the phrase, “shit happens.” One way or another, a person has to come to understand that there are uncontrollable chance elements at play in determining outcomes in life and some people draw the short straw. If a person suffers a random tragedy and fails to understand the issue, whether in religious terms or otherwise, the person is likely to become embittered, vengeful, or depressed. Yvon lost his job because of a failure in the justice system. He turned to crime. While in prison for that crime, he lost his child and his wife left him. He suffered a string to tragic events partly outside of his control and partly of his own doing. He was unable to come to an understanding, in religious terms or otherwise, to save himself from despair and bitterness.

The related issue raised by the simple narrative of L’Argent is the matter of moral responsibility for one’s actions. What, for example, is the moral culpability of each person in the scenario for the murders that occur at the end of the story. What is Norbert’s responsibility because he knowingly passed the forged note? What is the photographer’s responsibility – for passing the forged note on and for his later perjury? What is Lucien’s responsibility for agreeing to collaborate the perjury? We could even ask, what is the responsibility of Martial for goading Norbert into passing the forged bill and what is the responsibility of Norbert’s father for refusing an advance on Norbert’s allowance? My personal view is that each person is morally responsible only for the reasonably predictable consequences of his actions, not for the chance consequences. Norbert is not guilty of murder or culpable in the murders. He is guilty of what amounts to theft of 500 francs by passing a forged note. Norbert’s father bears no moral guilt, in this particular matter, because his decision was well-intended. He wanted to provide his son a lesson in financial responsibility. Like Norbert, the photographer is guilty of theft by passing the note on. He is guilty of far more, however, in committing perjury and enticing another to support that perjury. His action could be reasonably anticipated to cost Yvon his job and reputation – a significant moral cost. Yvon, on the other hand, bears the full moral responsibility for choosing to turn to crime and, later, committing murder. Those acts belong to him and no one else. The tragedy that he suffered in no way alleviates his moral responsibility for his actions.

Chance not only impacts a person through events that happen to that person without initiative on their own part, but also by the magnitude of consequences for his mistakes or moral transgressions. Have you ever made a mistake while driving – such as going through a stop sign because you didn’t notice it until it was too late to stop? Sometimes you “get away with” such mistakes. You think to yourself, “Whew, I lucked out. That could have caused an accident.” Other times, such mistakes cause minor accidents or, still other times, fatal crashes. The mistake is actually the same regardless of the size of the price you pay for it.

Bresson’s third theme is the one most directly related to the film’s title, which means “money” in English. Wealth and power have an insulating effect, to an extent, on the price one pays for mistakes or moral transgressions. The rich and powerful can get away with a certain level of transgression through a variety of tactics made feasible by their resources. One might offer a bribe, as Norbert’s mother does to the photographer to buy his silence. Even though she couches the bribe in terms of restitution plus a bit more for his trouble, it is easily understood as a bribe. The wealthy can hire the best lawyer or play off their reputation or standing in the community. The powerful can commit perjury and bribe another to support that perjury. Such options are not typically available to poor, lower class types. Economic disparities in society cause some to feel the full brunt of random tragedies or disproportionate consequences more heavily than others.

Production Values: One especially brilliant aspect of L’Argent is that the film is designed in such a way as to create a relationship between the viewer and the film that effectively duplicates the relationship between Yvon and the society in which he lives. Yvon cannot understand or come to grips with why he has apparently been singled out for victimization by unfair, tragic events. Why is God doing this to me? Why me? His inability to find an answer to that question effectively drives him mad. We viewers are given the same problem in relation to the narrative. Why have these things happened to this poor fellow, Yvon? It’s not fair! This story makes no sense, we think, because we’re used to stories that pretend that there is a reliable relationship between moral behavior and positive outcomes. We share Yvon’s sense of bewilderment about the unfairness of it all.

As mentioned earlier, Bresson also gives us nothing to distract us from that central enigma. There’s no elaborate mystery to entertain us. There’s no brilliant performances by film stars. Bresson doesn’t even use professional actors, preferring to use what he came to term “models.” The models are instructed to perform in a manner characterized by limited expressiveness or individuality. The most dramatic events don’t even take place on screen. Instead of graphic murders, as in many modern films, we only see pools of blood or hear the sounds of a whimpering dog to alert us to the gruesome events. Even dialog is minimized. Instead of original soundtrack music, Bresson uses mostly excerpts from existing pieces of classical music. He does make one exception in his austerity – he does provide beautiful visual imagery, largely consequent to his early life as a painter. The lack of the usual “compensations” for viewers has limited Bresson’s appeal to average film-lovers, despite his critical acclaim. Bresson was once even booed by the audience at the Cannes Film Festival while receiving a special Grand Prize for Creative Film Making presented by Orson Welles. The economy of Bresson’s style makes the message all the more potent but the enjoyment factor somewhat limited for viewers who are not also film-geeks.

There’s not much point in talking about the performances in L’Argent except, perhaps, to comment that the “models” gave what Bresson demanded of them – rather flat, unimpassioned modeling of roles. Few of Bresson's models appeared in films other than the Bresson frilm for which each was expressly selected.

Bottom-Line: Being an intellectual type myself, I like films that cause one to think about some significant philosophical, psychological, or aesthetic issue. I found this film worthwhile though very dry in its delivery. A steady diet of Bresson would never be my cup of tea, but an occasional exposure proves interesting. L’Argent is in French with English subtitles and has a running time of 90 minutes.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Good for a Rainy Day
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age