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review: The Rules of the Game by Jean Renoir is one of those films that every academic knows, yet hardly anyone (especially an American) has ever seen. I can see how someone today would look back on it and dismiss it. Entertainment and the art of film has changed so much from 1939 to now.
The story is a familiar love triangle, and the subplot is that of a love triangle between servants. This is standard French farce fare, yet the movie contains very little humor. (The lower-class is relegated to humorous moments.) A pilot has traversed the Atlantic, and when he lands, all of France rejoices in his feat. He, however, does not share their joy. He would only be happy if his lady was by his side. She and her husband are listening to his arrival on the radio, and, under the counsel of a family friend, decide to invite the pilot to their country house for a weekend full of frolicking. Tempers rise as the wife discovers her husband's infidelity. She decides to runaway with the Lindberg-esque pilot, but happy endings are few and far between. Someone gets shot and a pretentious monologue on the steps of the provincial cottage ends the film.
Visually, the film is beautiful, Renoir packs so much into each frame. While the aristocracy is in the forefround quibbling, the lower class is in the background pantomiming similar things. Some of the footage of hunting may offend some (ahem---Janice) but the name of the film is indeed The Rules of the Game. This is a good film, and should be included in the canon of film academics. It does wonders for advancing the way audiences think of narrative and cinemagraphic composition. However, as is the result of many films from the period, I found myself bored fairly often. (I blame MTV.) (jeremy.12.04)
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