Moderato cantabile

In a small provincial town that time neglects, two lost souls meander round quite circumspect, an imperceptible entwine, fading in and out of time, both longing for a moment to connect. One is captured in a marriage like a fly, cocooned inside a coffin left to die, the other, isolated, all his options firmly gated, unable to remove the bonds that tie.

Once again, Jeanne Moreau delivers a performance few other actors could have managed, both then and now, more than ably supported by a sullen Jean-Paul Belmondo, they both leave you wishing they were alive in a more modern world, where tradition and fear of the institutions that bind them have all but vanished, and they can be who they want to be. Although without those shackles the connections may well have been quite different.

the atmosphere. the Duras mark. the mark of Peter Brooks. and the performances. a Belmondo who conquest a special status, exploring a role who has the force of nuances. Jeanne Moreau - the same and different. the piano's lessons. and the city. a film about solitude in a honest, cruel manner. slices from Madame Bovary. and the search of sense in the presence of the other. the mixture of temptation and fear, expectation and sin, the form of illusion and the brutal end does it a gem. not only for the artistic virtues but for a special manner to use the novel for the portrait of a small world. a film of music as piece from silhouettes, dialogs and fall. a not real comfortable film. but useful.

Peter Brook acquired the rights to the successful Nouveau Roman 'Moderato Cantabile' from author Marguerite Duras as a vehicle for Jeanne Moreau with whom he had worked on stage in 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof'. Brook's previous film 'The Beggar's Opera' had hardly been a resounding success which made it difficult to get funding for this latest venture. However, thanks to the Herculean efforts of producer Raoul Levy the necessary funds came through. Levy and his backers must surely have been disheartened by the films failure outside of France. Such a pity also that the film became lumbered with the ghastly alternative title of 'Seven Days....Seven Nights', the suggestiveness of which was obviously designed to get bums on seats. Jeanne Moreau as Anne, the bored and unfulfilled wife of a rich industrialist, is attending a piano lesson at which her young son Pierre is struggling, under the stern eye of his piano teacher, to get to grips with the 'moderato cantabile' movement of a sonatina by Diabelli. They are interrupted by the blood-curdling scream of a woman in the bar next door who has presumably been murdered by her lover. Anne becomes intrigued by and obsessed with the crime and the reasons for it. She meets Chauvin, one of her husband's employees, who seems to offer an explanation and they begin what can only be described as a 'metaphysical' relationship which to Anne's despair, does not progress to the physical....... This film comes within the Golden Age for stage-trained Jeanne Moreau that began with 'Lift to the Scaffold' for Louis Malle in 1957. Her performance here as Anne is utterly mesmerising and fully justifies her being described by Orson Welles as 'simply the greatest'. As Chauvin Jean-Paul Belmondo is frankly miscast and by all accounts was bored and mystified by the whole enterprise. His instinctive talent and undeniable screen presence carry him through. Young Didier Haudepin is splendid as Pierre and would excel four years later in 'A Special Friendship', a forgotten masterpiece of Jean Delannoy. Colette Regis certainly makes an impression in her two scenes as Mlle Giraud the piano teacher. The highlight of the film is the dinner party where Anne finally cracks, the direction of which by Brook is superlative. The final scene between Anne and Chauvin also leaves a deep impression. Shot in lustrous black and white by Armand Thirard this is a compelling and haunting work the power of which lies in its restraint. Moreau's astonishing portrayal won her a Palme d'Or and the film itself marked the start of a long and fruitful collaboration with Marguerite Duras. In 2001 she came full circle by playing Duras in 'Cet amour-la'.

for the Duras's atmosphere. for the lead actors. for the story, landscapes, dialogs, the piano lesson or for its end. for the illustration of a state of soul as result of a mixture of sin, fear, high expectations and fall. a film about a woman and a man. all in simple manner presented. a town. and few meetings. and level of dark revelation. a film of silhouettes and silence. and it is enough for discover an universe who could be part from yourself. a film about choices. and about a strange form of music. Jeanne Moreau is not a surprise. Belmondo is the perfect choice despite the expectations about other actor if you read the novel. the result - not comfortable but good occasion for reflection. about love. and about versions of Madame Bovary.

Jeanne Moreau is with her son at a piano lesson. A fuss in the street alerts her that something is going on in the street. A woman has been killed in a nearby bar. She goes there and meets Jean-Paul Belmondo, who witnessed the event. They begin a brief affair.

Under the direction of Peter Brook we get one of Mlle Moreau's typically fine performances. The story, however, is very slight. We are to see the emptiness of her life, her indifferent husband, and his dull business associates at their haute-cuisine dinners, her lack of connection to anyone save her child. Her concern with the murder is an obvious issue, with its concerns about the evanescence of life. Yet that soon evaporates. Her inability to connect to another adult save through sex renders her as shallow as the dinner guests. The audience is held in suspense, hoping she will achieve something deeper.