Verwöhnte Kinder

Bertrand Tavernier was arguably the greatest French director of the turn of the century ; he ended his career with a wonderful doc miniseries in which he payed a tribute to old directors (he can be considered their peer now) : the true heir of Renoir,Carné ,Duvivier ,Clouzot,Autant-lara, Clément et al .He never produced anything mediocre .

It was the second time I had watched this movie and hindsight displays some flaws: the Piccoli/Pascal relationship descends towards the banality of the man subject to the middle-aged lust who sleeps with a girl half his age; the "spoilt child" -all in all , Piccoli and his collaborator are privileged people who do not have to worry to make ends meet ,let alone to pay a rent (one can catch a glimpse of his bourgeois dwelling; the scenes with his wife and the children she helps are overkill and may be a blueprint of what will be fully realized in "ça commence aujourd'hui "-; besides their screenplay is devoid of interest ,bearing no relation to the tenants' problems ...And unlike his first effort" l'horloger de Saint-Paul " and the admirable "un dimanche à la campagne" ,to name but two, it sounds dated now,very "seventies".

Now for the good news : the song over the cast and credits is sung by famous actors :Jean rochefort and Jean-Pierre Marielle ,not appearing in the film : their "Paris jadis " musette lament longs for the "Paname (slang for Paris)of yore " when the landscape was not still invaded by high buildings ,often intended for offices ,not for housing ; Tavernier brillantly films these urban landscapes where the children are not even given a decent place to play and where the tenants are threatened with eviction from their apartment. Unemployment which already ran rampant is represented by lovely Christine Pascal -but this side of her character is not really convincing:she is more efficient as a militant tenant who urges the others to rebel against the landlord who increases outrageously the service charges .

The rapport the tenants have between them is warmful and the evening when one of them shows his guests holiday slides is a nice memory of bygone days .And the fact that a bourgeois man (par excellence the spoilt child) gets involved in the fight for a square deal with the owner shows Tavernier's social concern (which would emerge again,more convincingly,as he would make his way through the following decades.)

The `spoiled' of the title is used in its various senses in the treatment written by director Bertrand Tavernier, actress Christine Pascal, and Charlotte Dubriel. The children treated by Catherine Rougerie (Arlette Bonnard) are spoiled because they have `blocked communication'. The tenants of the building where Catherine's writer/director husband Bernard (Michel Piccoli) resides for work purposes are spoiled as they are abused by their landlord. Bernard in his relationship with the unemployed tenant Anne (Pascal) is spoiled since the affair is an indulgence, where he `risks nothing'. Bernard moving to the unit to work is not an overt comment on his marriage, it is just a way of working, and the affair with Anne is more convenient than passionate, at least for him. This, and Anne's situation determine the finite nature of their love. And although the Tenants Defence Committee action brings Anne to Bernard, it and Catherine's teaching and even the film Bernard is writing remain sub-plots, to the affair.

Tavernier also does not present the lovers equally - Piccoli is barely in the love scenes, the most we see is his bare chest with an undone shirt, whereas Pascal is exposed in full frontal nudity. Pascal's gallic urchin child quality, with eye-lined eyes and submissive posture, could recall someone like Audrey Hepburn if the director were interested in presenting her as attractive. However the screenplay's association of love with death and knives and rust clues us into Tavernier's stance. Anne is like the other sad Parisians who are seen in vista as La Traviata plays on the soundtrack.

Although Tavernier's view of urban ugliness is a nice change to his Renoir-ish representation of rural beauty, his films always read as too long. Here he uses hand-held and subjective camera, natural lighting, and a narration which comes from nowhere. The only redeeming qualities are Piccoli's angry outbursts which are funny, Anne throwing food in response to her ex-boyfriend's arrogance, and spotting Isabelle Huppert's cameo.