It was amusing to find out from a fellow-reviewer that Stendhal wrote "purple prose" "fit only for a trashy romance novel". Yes, the scene in Julien's prison cell, including "such nonsense as 'I feel for you what I should feel for God'", is taken almost word-for-word from the book (see Part 2, Chapter 43).
In fact, the script is the best part of the film. The way it manages to follow the spirit of the original though often modifying its letter (though, once more, the letter is, ironically, not modified in that "purple prose" scene) would merit a separate analysis. Not that fidelity to the original is a virtue in itself, but in the case of a writer as riveting as Stendhal it certainly does not hurt. I have been rereading the book and watching the 180 minute version (VHS, Collection Les Années Cinquante) of the film by turns, and the transition has been, at every time, seamless, as if moving within the same world. With the scenes added in the script I have the feeling of getting more of Stendhal. The strategy of compensation, common for good (inter-semiotic) translations, has been used to excellent effect. There is, for instance, the delightfully absurd dialogue between Mathilde and her mother that adds to the film Stendhal's subtly pervasive comic side, or the painful-to-watch scene where the priest dictates the letter to Mme de Renal – so effective that not much more is needed to convey Stendhal's intense anti-clericalism. Perhaps the strategy of compensation is facilitated by the complex, multi-layered nature of the original which suffers superficial changes gladly.
I do not think the emphasis on the "social side" is at the expense of the "romantic, human" one – with Julien's combative attitude to love, the love stories in the novel are not exactly that, up until the very end (the "purple prose" one, well, one cannot please everyone ...). Mathilde's part has been cut the most, but then again, her "love by reason" (Stendhal's "l'amour de tete" as opposed to "l'amour vraie" – genuine love) is perhaps the least worth dwelling on if time is short. In prison, where Julien's mind is finally wholly occupied with genuine love for Mme de Renal, Mathilde's daily presence is nothing but an irritant, so if it is left out of the film, the loss is minimal.
That said, Mathilde is played excellently (by Antonella Lualdi), as are all three of the main characters, and, what is remarkable, practically all of the supporting ones. One can, of course, reproach the film with not being cinematographic enough, lacking visual dynamics, being too rigid. Nowadays, it almost seems de bon ton to do so. Yet why not just change the framework of thinking and regard it as a cross between theatre and film, where the emphasis is on the actors? In tune with the intensely psychological (not to say slightly over-cerebral) nature of the novel itself.
The reproach of "rigidity" leads me to a major weakness of the film. Personally, I was lucky to see my version first with colours digitally removed. To have filmed it in colour, and the primitive version of Eastmancolor at that, was a huge mistake. The quality is so poor that the film actually looks colourised. Most of the impressions of the film's rigidity and artificiality are due to those miserable colours, which, worst of all, manage to muffle facial expressions, diminishing the perceived acting quality – an almost fatal loss for a work predominantly psychological. Also, the authors of the film clearly did not think in terms of colours. The only use Stendhal himself makes of colours is the juxtaposition of red and black, present in at least five key parts of the novel - parts missing in the film. Julien is often described as pale in the novel. His pallor, missing in the colour version, is part of his nature and image. In general, once Eastmancolor is gone, so are rigidity and artificiality, while all the nuances of excellent acting emerge.
Another weakness is the age difference between Julien and Gérard Philipe, which the actor himself cited as the reason for his initial refusal. I do not, obviously, mean that GP was old at the time of filming. It is just that he was not so very hopelessly vulnerably young as Julien at the beginning of the three years covered by the novel. This is not about fidelity to the source but about the inner logic of the film: for the young Julien who entered the Renal family it would have been outright impossible to have acquired the kind of wisdom borne from experience that is imprinted on the face and bearing of the 33- year-old actor. A very attractive kind of wisdom, yet something that the actor, quite justifiably, does his very best to erase, through uphill work. He succeeds, almost miraculously, in most of the scenes where the focus is on Julien, only to be betrayed in scenes "in- between", "non-scenes", as it were, where he, for instance, just goes and sits down at a table. In those treacherous moments he is not the fascinating Julien whose basic state seems to have been perpetual surprise ("étonné"=suprised is arguably the most frequent adjective used in conjunction with Julien in the novel).
However, Julien is a "fast learner", so in the second part of the film Philipe gets increasingly more believable. By the time he has tamed that "monster of pride" that is Mathilde, he is fully Julien. What is more, he is Stendhal's complex, ambiguous, mesmerising Julien, ambitious yet not quite a social climber, calculating yet impulsive and, indeed, romantic, feeling inferior and superior by turns, with mercurial changes of mood subtly and precisely conveyed by the actor. By far the best Julien of the three I have seen.
In sum, an excellent film for Stendhal-lovers, to be viewed, if at all possible, in black and white.
In fact, the script is the best part of the film. The way it manages to follow the spirit of the original though often modifying its letter (though, once more, the letter is, ironically, not modified in that "purple prose" scene) would merit a separate analysis. Not that fidelity to the original is a virtue in itself, but in the case of a writer as riveting as Stendhal it certainly does not hurt. I have been rereading the book and watching the 180 minute version (VHS, Collection Les Années Cinquante) of the film by turns, and the transition has been, at every time, seamless, as if moving within the same world. With the scenes added in the script I have the feeling of getting more of Stendhal. The strategy of compensation, common for good (inter-semiotic) translations, has been used to excellent effect. There is, for instance, the delightfully absurd dialogue between Mathilde and her mother that adds to the film Stendhal's subtly pervasive comic side, or the painful-to-watch scene where the priest dictates the letter to Mme de Renal – so effective that not much more is needed to convey Stendhal's intense anti-clericalism. Perhaps the strategy of compensation is facilitated by the complex, multi-layered nature of the original which suffers superficial changes gladly.
I do not think the emphasis on the "social side" is at the expense of the "romantic, human" one – with Julien's combative attitude to love, the love stories in the novel are not exactly that, up until the very end (the "purple prose" one, well, one cannot please everyone ...). Mathilde's part has been cut the most, but then again, her "love by reason" (Stendhal's "l'amour de tete" as opposed to "l'amour vraie" – genuine love) is perhaps the least worth dwelling on if time is short. In prison, where Julien's mind is finally wholly occupied with genuine love for Mme de Renal, Mathilde's daily presence is nothing but an irritant, so if it is left out of the film, the loss is minimal.
That said, Mathilde is played excellently (by Antonella Lualdi), as are all three of the main characters, and, what is remarkable, practically all of the supporting ones. One can, of course, reproach the film with not being cinematographic enough, lacking visual dynamics, being too rigid. Nowadays, it almost seems de bon ton to do so. Yet why not just change the framework of thinking and regard it as a cross between theatre and film, where the emphasis is on the actors? In tune with the intensely psychological (not to say slightly over-cerebral) nature of the novel itself.
The reproach of "rigidity" leads me to a major weakness of the film. Personally, I was lucky to see my version first with colours digitally removed. To have filmed it in colour, and the primitive version of Eastmancolor at that, was a huge mistake. The quality is so poor that the film actually looks colourised. Most of the impressions of the film's rigidity and artificiality are due to those miserable colours, which, worst of all, manage to muffle facial expressions, diminishing the perceived acting quality – an almost fatal loss for a work predominantly psychological. Also, the authors of the film clearly did not think in terms of colours. The only use Stendhal himself makes of colours is the juxtaposition of red and black, present in at least five key parts of the novel - parts missing in the film. Julien is often described as pale in the novel. His pallor, missing in the colour version, is part of his nature and image. In general, once Eastmancolor is gone, so are rigidity and artificiality, while all the nuances of excellent acting emerge.
Another weakness is the age difference between Julien and Gérard Philipe, which the actor himself cited as the reason for his initial refusal. I do not, obviously, mean that GP was old at the time of filming. It is just that he was not so very hopelessly vulnerably young as Julien at the beginning of the three years covered by the novel. This is not about fidelity to the source but about the inner logic of the film: for the young Julien who entered the Renal family it would have been outright impossible to have acquired the kind of wisdom borne from experience that is imprinted on the face and bearing of the 33- year-old actor. A very attractive kind of wisdom, yet something that the actor, quite justifiably, does his very best to erase, through uphill work. He succeeds, almost miraculously, in most of the scenes where the focus is on Julien, only to be betrayed in scenes "in- between", "non-scenes", as it were, where he, for instance, just goes and sits down at a table. In those treacherous moments he is not the fascinating Julien whose basic state seems to have been perpetual surprise ("étonné"=suprised is arguably the most frequent adjective used in conjunction with Julien in the novel).
However, Julien is a "fast learner", so in the second part of the film Philipe gets increasingly more believable. By the time he has tamed that "monster of pride" that is Mathilde, he is fully Julien. What is more, he is Stendhal's complex, ambiguous, mesmerising Julien, ambitious yet not quite a social climber, calculating yet impulsive and, indeed, romantic, feeling inferior and superior by turns, with mercurial changes of mood subtly and precisely conveyed by the actor. By far the best Julien of the three I have seen.
In sum, an excellent film for Stendhal-lovers, to be viewed, if at all possible, in black and white.