Fin de jornada

"One never touches something great without being grown up oneself". This melancholic praise of the theater, as if it had more reality than life, is superbly put in abyss by Duvivier, who has fun revealing to us its pretenses, its sad and pathetic narcissism. A tender, crepuscular and dark ode to a world that is unraveling at the same time as it is being filmed. A last tribute, an ultimate remorse.

I love French Pre-WWII Films, Marcel Carné has become one of my favorite directors, and Julien Duvivier's previous movie (Panique) is one of the best movies i have watched. Unfortunately, i can't say the same about this one. La fin du jour is a good movie, well acted and well directed but it was too miserable at times. Usually, it's not such a bad thing and i don't need every movie i watch to bring me joy, most of the greatest movies ever are dark and sad. But it was not only that, in addition, this was not that interesting. Maybe if i revisit this when i get old as the leading characters here, i will appreciate it more. But at this stage of my life, i was not moved by this movie. "Sad" moments didn't feel sad, "funny" moments were not funny. This was unimpressive, bland, even lifeless at times. And the whole charade about this (supposedly) 17 years old girl who could end her life just to show the world her love about a 70-ish years old guy, felt ridiculous and out of place. (Maybe this was not something unusual those years, ok, but great movies are timeless, regardless of their age, and this one is not just dated but obsolete).

Yet, i cannot not recommend it, because it is still a good movie, classy and elegant. Michel Simon is a great actor, even though i couldn't stand him here. And the ending was good.

Just don't start your French Pre-WWII Films journey with this one. Search for Carne movies first.

It's been decades since I've seen this French classic, but I'm bemused by the description of it as "bitter". Like Dustin Hoffman's new "Quartet" (2012), it views aging performers both wistfully and lovingly and certainly not without humor. There is a harsher and more tragic incident at the heart of the chief conflict here, but ultimately the film is a loving portrayal of everyone from the truly great to the mediocre but devoted personalities that make up the theater. It is a homage in other words to the whole world of performing, which of course ranges from tragic to comic figures, from stars to failures, but, as stirringly presented in one speech here, is united, and set apart, by a shared passion. The climactic scene is expertly orchestrated and the words "We, the poor, the obscure" ("Nous, les pauvres, les obscures") from a classic play are re-purposed to devastating effect, so much so that they linger with me decades later. As does, not a bitter, but an uplifting sense of the nobility of living one's life in service to art, even if the rewards at "the end of the day" may be no more than bittersweet memories. -- Probably hard to find, but if you understand French (I doubt anyone's taken the trouble to sub-title this), worth the effort.

"You carry on like a child. For the last time, when will you be reasonable?" "Never! ... Being reasonable is being resigned. Which is being old. And I can't grow old. It's not in my nature."

In this film, Julien Duvivier serves up a sympathetic portrayal of growing old, especially as it relates to those whose profession was acting. There are three distinct male characters here: a callous lothario with a long trail of broken hearts behind him (Louis Jouvet), a serious guy who's been scarred personally and professionally (Victor Francen), and a playful imp who was never more than an understudy because he lacked talent (Michel Simon). There are female characters as well but they are less developed, beyond many of them having fond memories of the womanizer despite him not even remembering them, though one speaks for every ageing actress ever when she says of her roles "I began as Juliet, and ended as the nurse." There is also a delightful couple who have lived in bliss unmarried for 35 years and have a large family, something that wouldn't be possible in an American film during this period.

There is a painful connection between the first and second men which weaves some melodrama into the story: the wife of the latter ran away with the lothario, then died under mysterious circumstances. While that meant nothing to the womanizer, the other man was devastated, and he's been further scarred by how theater evolved over his career to move away from the more scholarly works he adored. Meanwhile, Jouvet's character is at it again, seducing a wide-eyed 17 year old despite a significant age gap (Madeleine Ozeray, who was actually 31). He's a maddening guy, as there are several instances where he shows he discarded women and doesn't even remember them, including a case where he remembers more about the horse he bet on in a race than a woman who's remembered him in her will (which was sad but amusing). This was a sharply drawn character, but the way his story worked out in the second half of the film felt a little contrived and overwrought, less satisfying than it could have been.

Simon's character is the one who brings the most life to the film, and who probably rounded my review score up. Early on we hear of his exploits in the old age home, including cooking herring in his room, sneaking out at night and crushing the gardener's flowers as he scales the walls, playing pranks on the more serious guy like using itching powder, and prancing around nude in the halls, which he claims the women don't mind. He's befriended a group of boy scouts over the years when he's outside the home, but then suffers when one of them tells him he's going away to get married and won't be scouting anymore, which was kind of like the pain parents feels when their children grow up and leave home. Similarly, his drafting a list of demands against the home at a time when unbeknownst to him and the others it's about to go bankrupt seemed like a mirror to a time of life when our days are numbered, and such brashness is futile.

In one of this man's pranks he gets a fake obituary printed of the serious actor, one that appears in small print well into the newspaper. There is melancholy and humiliation in having one's life summed up and shown for what it is, small in the big picture of the world, and soon to be forgotten. In a parallel to this, there is a fine eulogy at the end, which was stirring:

"Cabrissade, you never had talent! But we shall still miss you. You loved the theater, and it only rewarded you with setbacks and failure. But you remained loyal to it. Loyal to your first love, your obscure, marvelous dream. That's what moves us here today. My poor friend. Rest in peace, Cabrissade. Actors serve a noble cause, and when in the presence of something ennobling, we become noble ourselves."

As with his other films, Duvivier brings an emotional force to the film through moments like this, or when he puts together a montage of elderly faces at a wedding and a funeral, made more meaningful by the feeling of perspective in their eyes. This is one where the script wasn't perfect, but it had depth and he kept things moving with his editing, making it an enjoyable experience.

Well, it might have been one of the great French classics, to stand with Les enfants du paradis, Quai des brumes, La regle du jeu and so on. Instead we have Louis Jouvet who is really inspired as the great seducer Saint Clair; he was moving as the Baron in Les bas-fonds, and as Arletty's pimp in Hotel du nord, but here he is really vicious as a washed-up actor who doesn't get curtain calls anymore. He rereads old love letters from his flames of thirty years ago; this is an agreeable way to pass time.

Michel Simon as the understudy who can never get on stage because the star is never sick gives another fine performance. Think of a Boudu with more work ethic and a sense of humour and you've got him. The third male lead is Victor Francen, playing an actor who never realized his potential because his wife died (in a suspicious manner). He was born to play Racine and Corneille, but could not rise to any heights owing to the weight of grief. I am not convinced by anything Francen does here: there seems to be a hollow man behind the well-trimmed beard and elegant clothes. Gabrielle Dorziat is a pleasure to watch in anything (how great she was in Les parents terribles). She has a very affecting scene with Jouvet, one of her old loves.