The idea for the Cannes Film Festival actually occurred just prior to World War II after the awards at the Venice Film Festival were “rigged” in 1939 for the glorification of Fascism and Nazism. Jean Renoir’s masterful Grand Illusion was passed over for the Golden Bear in preference for two entirely forgettable films, Olympia produced under the auspices of Goebbels’ Ministry of Propaganda and Luciano Serra Pilota directed by Mussolini’s son! The French were outraged. All of the jury members from France, America, and Britain resigned en masse and the French were soon discussing the idea of a new festival to be located in France. The onset of World War II prevented the idea from coming to fruition until seven years later. With a backlog of films to consider from throughout the war years, the first Cannes Festival in 1946 awarded eleven Palme d’Ors, while no more than two have been issued in any year since. One of those eleven winners was La Symphonie Pastorale, which was the creation of Frenchman Jean Delannoy.

Historical Background: Jean Delannoy is one of those poor souls whose name is too often preceded by the qualifier “much-maligned,” since it was he as much as any director who had the misfortune to become the whipping boy of the critics of the French film magazine Cahiers du Cinema, who later emerged as the directors of the New Wave. Francois Truffaut was especially brutal in his attacks on Delannoy and the other directors who were wedded to the style called “poetic realism.” Delannoy was born in 1908 at Noisy-le-Sec, Seine-Saint-Denis, Île-de-France, France. His first experience in cinema was as an actor during the 1920’s and early 1930’s. He appeared in such films as Miss Helyett (1931) and Casanova (1933). During that time he also supported himself as an art critic, decorator, and journalist. His directing career was launched in 1934 with Paramount studios and a film called Paris-Deauville. He soon earned a reputation as a sensitive director with excellent technical command of filmmaking. His best works were those produced up until about 1950, including Pontcarral (1942), The Eternal Return (1943), based on a story by Jean Cocteau, La Symphonie Pastorale (1946), and God Needs Men (1950), the last two winning film festival awards. In the 1950’s and 1960’s, his work deteriorated increasingly into overblown epics and melodramas. After 1972, he turned mainly to work in television. Symphonie Pastorale was based on a novel by Andre Gide.

The Story: The story is set in the Swiss Alps near the end of the nineteenth century. Jean Martens (Pierre Blanchar), a Protestant pastor, is devoted to his community and his family, which consists of his wife Amelie (Line Noro), active young son Jacques (Robert Demorget), a little girl named Charlotte, and an infant. Christmas is approaching and the pastor and his son have selected a modest tree to serve as a Christmas tree for the church because, in the Pastor’s words, “God will like it all the better.” They soon discover, however, that the town’s leading citizen, Casteran (Jacques Louvigny), has already put up a much larger one, apparently as atonement for the infrequency of his attendance at the church on Sundays.

A young boy comes looking for the pastor because a woman in a local farm has passed away and a funeral will need to be arranged. Arriving at the farmhouse, Jean discovers a complication. The woman’s only relative is a young nameless daughter who is totally blind and virtually uncivilized. Jean implores God to help him find the fortitude to take the poor child into his family.

The story now jumps forward some fifteen years or so. The orphaned girl has been named Gertrude (Michèle Morgan) by Pastor Martens and raised with his own family. Working with her daily, Jean has taught her to read Braille, recognize people and objects by touch, and perform simple chores. Though somewhat naïve and dependent, Gertrude has otherwise developed into a person of character, quality, and surprising beauty. The Pastor is so utterly devoted to Gertrude, as a project and as a person, that he pretty much neglects his wife and his own children. In fact, the Pastor has inadvertently fallen in love with Gertrude and she with him. There is, however, nothing remotely sexual in their relationship or even conventionally romantic. Gertrude’s attachment to Jean is based on gratitude and need. Jean’s love for Gertrude is based on his need to be needed, his pride in what he has created in Gertrude, and her innocent beauty.

On the other hand, Gertrude is not so well appreciated by the other woman of the family. Jean’s wife, Amelie, is all too aware that Jean is far more devoted to Gertrude than to herself. She feels keenly that Jean’s time as well as his gaze is directed almost exclusively toward Gertrude. Amelie quite naturally resents Gertrude’s intrusion into her family, though she bears it with silent stoicism. Charlotte (Rosine Luguet), who is about the same age as Gertrude, treats her with a lack of sensitively at times.

Jacques, in the meantime, has gone off to make his way in the world, but returns for visits from time to time. Jacques’s parents and Casteran have pretty well settled in their minds that Jacques will marry Casteran’s daughter, Piette (Andrée Clément). This is Piette’s desire as well, though she has enough pride in herself as a person that she only wants Jacques if he can truly love her. When Jacques returns for a visit, he discovers that he loves Gertrude more than Piette. Jacques’s father, however, will not hear of it, insisting that Gertrude will never marry and that Jacques could never sustain love for Gertrude once the difficulties of dealing with a blind individual began to wear on him. Jean asks, for example, “And you love her, although she is blind?” When Jacques replies, “Yes, father,” Jean continues, “That’s not enough. You must love her because she is blind. Love her darkness. Enter into her darkness.” Jean is, of course, describing his own love for Gertrude. When Jacques persists, Jean indulges in a prevarication, telling Jacques “She asked me to send you away.”

Jacques becomes increasingly convinced that his father’s real motivation is that he is in love with Gertrude himself and cannot bear the thought of letting her go. Amelie suspects as much herself. Jean’s need for Gertrude is further underscored when it is pointed out to the family that no physician has ever examined Gertrude to determine the cause of her blindness and whether it can be corrected. Jean feigns interest in the idea but is in no hurry to act on it. Piette, on the other hand, very much wants the evaluation to take place as soon as possible. She and Jacques are engaged and due to be married in a few months and she wants to be sure that she will not marry Jacques only to discover that he actually loves Gertrude. Piette suggests to Jacques that he schedule an appointment for Gertrude with a physician in Paris, which he does. Gertrude’s ocular problem turns out to be cataracts and correctable with surgery.

Soon, Gertrude is able to see for the first time in her life, but the strained relationships in the Martens family are now troubled beyond repair. Gertrude is torn between a newfound flush of love for Jacques and her deep dependence on, gratitude toward, and love for Jean. Amelie resents Gertrude’s relationship with her husband but can also not bear the thought of Gertrude marrying her son. Jacques’s earlier suspicion that his father could not let Gertrude go because he is in love with her himself is confirmed. Jean is more in love with Gertrude than ever and devastated by the idea that she might become independent of him. The resolution is a tragic one, but I’ll leave it for readers to discover for themselves.

Themes: I was surprised to read one reviewer’s comment that “the pastor is someone any viewer will grow to hate within five minutes of the movie!” I didn’t feel that way at all. Jean was devoted to his community and steadfastly served his notion of God. He virtually single-handedly salvaged Gertrude’s life from one of terrible underdevelopment and misery. Jean believed in his calling as a servant of his God and found the perfect opportunity for expression of selfless devotion by saving the life of a blind girl. That he did it to satisfy his own sense of Christian charity and service is largely beside the point. His devotion to Gertrude as she was growing up had an invaluable impact on her life. Later, however, Jean’s relationship to Gertrude went awry and turned from life-saving charity to selfish possessiveness.

To some extent, the issue that developed between Jean and Gertrude could apply to any parent-child relationship. The problem was simply magnified a bit by Gertrude’s special disability but could exist without it. The goal of any parent in raising a child should be to work oneself out of a job. The endpoint of successful parenting is a young adult who no longer needs his or her parents. A parent who feels the need to hold onto their child and keep them in a dependent status as the child enters into adulthood has failed as a parent. Jean failed to understand that self-sufficiency, if it is at all feasible, is the only valid objective, even when a child is disabled. Then, the problem was further complicated because Gertrude had turned into a beautiful young woman and was not biologically related to Jean. Jean unintentionally fell in love with her, though that love remained physically chaste. Had Jean merely loved her as he loved other members of his family, it would have been admirable. When he, instead, fell in love with her, it violated his relationship with his wife as well as his other children.

I don’t claim to know much about the needs of people with severe disabilities, but I imagine that most would disagree with Pastor Jean’s claim that Gertrude needed to be loved “because she is blind” rather than “although she is blind.” I would think that a disabled person would desire nothing more than to be loved for their personhood rather than because of their disability.

Production Values: Many of the arts are characterized by stylistic periods and often times the transitions from one style to another come as a kind of backlash against an old style that had reached its natural limit of evolution. In music, for example, the Classical Period was a rebellion against a Baroque style perfected by Bach, Romanticism was in reaction to the formalism of the Classical period, and the Modern period a reaction against the excesses of Romanticism. When such reactions are underway, it all seems oh so important to the participants, but from the vantage point of a much later time, all of the stylistic periods can be appreciated on their own terms. I respect the stylistic novelties introduced by the French New Wave beginning in 1959, but I also very much admire the style of Poetic Realism against which the New Wavers were rebelling. Children of Paradise is probably the preeminent example of the style, but La Symphonie Pastorale is another good one. Delannoy imbues his film with a polished beauty that gives epic weight to the proceedings, as the various noble intentions devolve into torments for all of the principal characters. The cinematography has an austere perfectionism.

Michèle Morgan’s performance is the highlight of the film, providing an honest poignancy. Her other work included parts in Port of Shadows (1938), Passage to Marseille (1944), and The Fallen Idol (1949). Pierre Blanchar was excellent in the difficult part of Pastor Jean. Line Noro, who played Amelie, was better known for her performances as Ines in Pépé le Moko (1937) and as Edith in J’Accuse (1938). Jean Desailly played the part of Jacques to perfection. He had the lead role in The Soft Skin in 1964.

Bottom-Line: The premise of this film was highly original and intriguing. While watching this film, I was acutely aware of having no idea where it was leading and how the story would be resolved, which is a quality that I particularly enjoy in a film. I found myself checking the timer a bit, not out of boredom in the least, but out of curiosity as to how much time remained for the denouement. The look of the film was delightful as well, with lots of beautiful Alpine countryside and a pastoral village in gorgeous black-and-white photography. La Symphonie Pastorale is in French with English subtitles and has a running time of 105 minutes.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older