La bella mentirosa

A young artist and his girlfriend run into an aging master who has not painted for many years. It emerges that he stopped in the middle of a painting of his wife which threatened to destroy his marriage. Why this should be so is not at first clear. Over time, however, as the young artist's girlfriend poses for the older artist so that he can finish the painting, it becomes apparent quite how emotionally demanding the artistic process is.

Many people seem to find this film boring or pretentious. It's a matter of taste I guess. I found the long sections of the artist sketching his model extremely compelling. Even if you can't imagine this, give the film a try. I have a friend who hates arty films, particularly if they're in a foreign language. His favourite film is the Rock, yet he started watching this (with the sole aim of seeing Emmanuelle Beart in the buff, which she is for most of the movie) and ended up sitting through the whole four hours. It has a genuinely hypnotic quality.

Aside from the debate about the art sections of the film, its content is superb. The characters are real, interesting and beautifully played. The Beart character in particular is a wonderful depiction of someone who is deeply scarred, but erects a powerful veneer of independence to protect herself. As the artist sketches her from every angle, he gradually gets under her defences, until her entire personality is exposed on canvas. I know this sounds really pretentious, but this film effectively argues that what marks out a masterpiece is that someone's soul - either the artist's or the model's - is put on canvas, and in the process, they and the people close to them are affected irrevocably. Ultimately, the only real flaw in this film is, I'm informed, that the sketches themselves aren't actually that good. If you're like me and have a limited sensitivity to such things, this shouldn't bother you. If not, try not to let it spoil a beautiful, rewarding and profoundly satisfying movie.

Lots of questions come up about this movie: First, when is a film/story worth spending four hours with. It would seem to me to be necessary that it is an outstanding film which this one isn't. Unless you are not familiar with the artistic process of life-drawing and could be fascinated with it as a spectator sport, then don't rent this movie, you will be bored to tears. I multi-tasked during most of it. I have been an artist and the studio is familiar to me but I wouldn't impose the practice of sketching a nude on anyone. Of course there is the prurient interests in looking for extended amounts of time at a beautiful woman naked and if that's your thing then you will be richly rewarded. Second, did the model get paid for her modeling or is this another movie about how we should all adore the artist so much that we give our time to him? I saw no money trading hands which would have raised the status of the model to some kind of equity. I might just me too American and too much of a feminist (I am male) but it seems that the French have this habit of adoring their women as long as they are attractive sex objects at the total disposal of male projects. That is what this movie is about. The two female characters are completely devoted to the rather pathetic artist. The movie was made in the nineties. Shame on you Rivette. But then you are one of the "New Wave" generation when women were treated repeatedly as sexual geegaws for the male protagonists, so perhaps we should forgive you. Thirdly, does anyone think his art was that good to deserve all this reverence? It seems pretty undergraduate life-drawing class quality to me. This is another thing about French culture - after they have gotten rid of God and the king the artist takes his place. In this movie the artist lives in the largest and imposing villa of the village. Are we to think that this man's talent has provided him with enough success that he can live like a king? Fourthly, are we to believe that the few conversations the artist has with his model has brought them both into some kind of personal transformation? I would need a lot more from them than what I saw on screen. We are to take the creative process of this man as so important that it is effecting all the characters (including a "sister" of the boyfriend who ends up at the villa for no apparent reason). To risk being called a franco-phobe (actually I love France and French Culture, but it does have certain qualities that distinguish it from, say, Swedish or Swiss or German), the French do seem to lean to the hysterical side of human functioning - like Liz (the artist's wife) telling the art dealer how she hated him and then calmly goes about the conversation, smiling and kissing him when he leaves. I found lots of emotion in this movie that wasn't carrying cognitive content - like we, as the viewers, are to think that emotion alone makes a film complex and deep. I'm sorry its just a little too much to take. The movie is beautifully filmed, as is the tradition of the French, but it's aspiration to depth doesn't quite work for me. And please, four hours!

Can watching paint dry be riveting, interesting, and compelling? Can looking at a beautiful woman who is naked for almost three of four hours long movie be not erotic? Is it possible to watch the movie where an Artist creates sketch after sketch of his model in preparation for a painting and many scenes run in real time and not become bored but instead be totally absorbed by the painter on the screen and how he was progressing with his work? Jacques Rivette's "Le Belle Noiseuse" is certainly not for every taste but I found it immensely rewarding. It is one of very few films where creative process with all its tension, uncertainty, selfishness and self-centering of an artist who once he began working is nearly oblivious not only to his model's discomfort but to the feelings of the ones close to him have been shown on the screen with such truthful passion, technical excellence, and tremendous acting. Michel Piccoli as an aging painter Edouard Frenhofer, once famous and productive, Jane Birkin (Liz)- his much younger wife and a former favorite model, and Emmanuelle Béart as Marianne, the young, bright, and intensely intelligent woman whose presence awakened Frenhofer from semi-lethargy and made him want to paint again were unforgettable.

The film also explores a vital for any artist subject – what is more important, the process of creating a work of art or the result?

Unless you're a New Wavelet devotee or your intellectual capacities are wide, Jacques Rivette is a filmmaker who isn't very close to many average viewers. In many of his films he loses himself amid his intellectual ideas and doesn't mind developing them while neglecting notions of storytelling, progression in narration and time. Consequently, the average length of his works is of about two hours and a half. Many filmmakers left very long films too. But they keep in mind that their films are destined to be understood by the general public and so obey to rules of clarification in their accessible stories.

"La Belle Noiseuse" is one of his most palatable pieces of work in spite of its challenging length. It clocks in at 4 hours but don't panic, time won't seem long to you for Rivette keeps a decent linearity from the first reunion with the main characters of the film to the surprising final denouement to the agreement of Marianne (Emmanuelle Béart) to serve as a model for the painter Frenhofer (Michel Piccoli). Along their adventure, some details will witness the progression of the story: Marianne sleeps in Frenhofer's mansion while the latter falls asleep in his studio. An aesthetic refinement freely sourced from Honoré De Balzac's novel "the Unknown Masterpiece" and perhaps the son of "le Mystère Picasso" (1956) by Henri-Georges Clouzot, Rivette's piece of work is a dive in the twists and turns of artistic creation and all that it can comprise with its times of hopes, doubts, fears. Frenhofer naturally starts with a series of sketches and continues with numerous paintings attempts and countless, testing poses for Marianne. The two characters are engaged in a creative process that is highly likely to leave them exhausted to say the least. The filmmaker deftly taps the scenery of the mansion and notably the studio where he locks for the major part of the film, Marianne and Frenhofer for better and for worse. A painstaking care is given to sound with the squeaking of charcoal and brush. To better capture the sense of spontaneous creation, Rivette fell back on methods worthy of the New Wavelet and notably Godard's: he shot his film without a script near him and perhaps that's why many moments seem extemporaneous. But unlike Godard's smug works, Rivette's one remains quite understandable as a whole.

A dark legend surrounds this film about its success, one of the few Rivette enjoyed all along his career. Was it due to Emmanuelle Béart's nudity? "La Religieuse" (1966) was banned because it was deemed as shocking for a major part of the population according to the censors. This banning contributed to the popularity of the film. So, it would seem that Rivette has to put elements likely to be scabrous to make himself accepted by general public.

Having seen "Va Savoir" recently prompted me to rent Jacques Rivette's 1990 "La Belle Noiseuse," a daunting runtime of 240 minutes (though I noticed it was only 3 hr. 48 mins.) It's well worth the time and experience. An experience in painting - nude figure drawing to be precise. But it's not a film merely about lessons in nude figure modeling from the beautiful Emmanuelle Béart, or meticulous details of an artist's painting process from veteran actor Michel Piccoli, there is a Rivette storyline depicting multiple relationships, himself literally painting us psychological pictures/sketches. He's truly the French filmic master of human predicaments between man and woman. Rivette has such visions, skillful techniques, and superb craft in telling his story with thoughtful details - never misses a beat.

The beginning scenes put us in a comfortable rural setting outside of Paris - beautiful open views of the village town, captures of the villa architectural interiors, and tastes of the lovely airy gardens and shady greens exterior. Yes, there are plenty of dialogs, but the inclusion of real-time ambient and environmental sounds made "La Belle Noiseuse" experience whole. It has the most wonderful ordinary sound of the studio door with latch creak opens and closes - it comes so naturally. There's the pen nib scratching against the sketchpad paper, the chalk against the surface of a canvas, even the quick ruffling of sheets when Béart the model swivel-turned in defiance - such detailed little sounds simply add to the flavor and tone of the story. We see two pairs of relationship and then some: between the mature and weathered pair of Edouard Frenhofer the painter and Liz his wife (who used to be his favorite model) portrayed by Michel Piccoli and Jane Birkin; the younger set Marianne and Nicolas, yet to absorb the trials and zest of life, portrayed by Emmanuelle Béart and David Bursztein; then the twists of the mercurial commercial-minded Balthazar Porbus, the unrelenting insistent Nicolas' sister Julienne, with gentle relieving pauses from young Magali, daughter of housekeeper Francoise, not to forget Justine the Cat.

Other then an Igor Stravinsky piece used for the beginning/ending credit roll, and Magali's brief morning ballet exercise, there's really no background music used. The occasional church bell rings, sounds of cicada and rustling leaves provided serene accents. Much is said in the unsaid, and the ending portion sure makes one wonder and prompts reflections. Rivette has a flair for unsuspecting ending drama, almost philosophical, or could it be renewed beginnings?

The paintings/drawings were from the hands of Bernard Dufour. Cinematography by William Lubtchansky, especially inside the studio, captured the critical chiaroscuro (light and shadows) of drawing/modeling sessions. Michel Piccoli is a regular in Luis Bunuel films; "Belle de Jour" 1967, with Catherine Deneuve is one example. Jane Birkin has such a gentle yet fortified disposition; she's in Bertrand Tavernier's "Daddy Nostalgia" 1990, opposite Dirk Bogarde. I really enjoy Emmanuelle Béart's performance in Claude Sautet's "Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud" 1995, with Michel Serrault, who was equally brilliant.