Eden and After

I suppose an argument on whether or not "Eden and After" is a load of pretentious twaddle or a film with real substance could go on forever, but whether or not there is more than the typical late 60's/early 70's drugged-out pseudo-intellectualism here is irrelevant. I don't think Robbe-Grillet's intention is to make a 'Grand Statement' of any sort, "Eden and After" seems interested mostly in asking questions and provoking a response from the audience, as well as in its aesthetic sensibilities.

"Eden and After" has been described as a highbrow soft-core flick, not only in another IMDb comment but elsewhere as well, and it's a fair enough label- many of the images here, particularly in the last forty minutes of the film are certainly erotic, or at least obviously were to Robbe-Grillet. Robbe-Grillet has achieved genuine sensuality with his imagery. It's not porn, there's none of the visceral satisfaction of that sort of thing, it's actually evocative enough to earn the 'erotica' label, although the film certainly has ambition beyond that.

Indeed, dismissing this as a skin flick is a bit moronic; there's so much more here. It's a dark, captivating, occasionally nightmarish, and very interesting film. The sound mixing here is absolutely superb, much like it was in the only other Robbe-Grillet film I've seen so far, "Trans-Europ-Express", and the cinematography stunning, especially after the film shifts focus to Tunisia in its final act. This was Robbe-Grillet's first color film and the opportunity is not wasted- everything from the minutest detail of the design to the cast's wardrobe is a carefully-orchestrated visual extravaganza of bold colors, often used very well in the film to emphasize a point.

"Eden and After" is something special, and whether or not you like it you have to admit that it's a unique experience and that much of the imagery is jarring and very effective. For me it was one of the most intense and involving viewing experiences of my life and is already one of my favorite films, having viewed it twice in a row, something I have rarely ever done before. I can understand disliking this one, but you have to give it credit at least as an aesthetic achievement.

If this were in English, you might think it was a particularly pretentious student film by some young director who wanted to get as many pretty women to submit to dubious situations as he could. Rather, it is the epitome of why even many French filmmakers turned to American features to revive their own cinema which so often veers towards this kind of aimless, flimsily produced exercise in some indistinct intellectual exploration. What is going on? Well, apparently some bored very bourgeois students are trying to find ways - literal or fantasized, it's not clear which - to spice up their boring hours in the school hangout (realistically portrayed as the kind of sterile glass and colored panelled institutional space many are). There's a kind of an older Svengali figure who leads them some semi-comprehensible, vaguely erotic games. There are references to death, self-inflicted or other. There are a number of beautiful shots of whitewashed buildings against blue skies in North Africa. You get a few women in cages (mysteriously keeping on blindfolds thought their hands are free) and one recurring fleeting shot of what looks like some serious bondage, a touch of David Lynch-style soft-porn lesbianism - something for everyone really who likes this kind of film at all, with no particular order or logic.

If you loved "Last Year at Marienbad", you might at least find this film intriguing. Otherwise, you might be relieved that French directors changed direction enough to come up with "Diva". ("Does this review contain spoilers?" They should probably come up with a prize for anyone who could MANAGE to write a spoiler for this film.)

I knew of novelist Alain Robbe-Grillet chiefly by virtue of his script for Alain Resnais’ art-house masterpiece LAST YEAR IN MARIENBAD (1961; which I intend to revisit in tribute to the author). Eventually, I became aware of his own films as a director via a thread on “The Latarnia Forums” – which, back then, had intrigued me a great deal and, in fact, was highly pleased to acquire three of them a few months ago. Unfortunately, the prints were incredibly murky – so I kind of lost my enthusiasm and it’s only now, in honor of his passing, that I made a concentrated effort to stick with them!

However, my first encounter with these titles proved a disappointment: as I said, the picture quality left a lot to be desired – but, frankly, so did the film itself! Judging by the celebrated Resnais work, I knew I’d be in for an oblique and possibly multi-layered piece – however, to be honest, I found it made little sense and that it was generally weird for weirdness’ sake! In fact, if I had to compare Robbe-Grillet’s style here with that of contemporaneous film-makers, I’d say this is Godard meets Antonioni meets Jodorowsky!; that, in itself, would sound like a most interesting proposition to some…but, I assure you, the film is a bit of a bore despite plenty of nudity (the writer-director seems to have a thing for sadomasochism, as can also be seen from TRANS-EUROP-EXPRESS [1966]) and a stunning-looking heroine in Catherine Jourdan (sporting cropped blonde hair).

The plot, such as it is, has to do with a group of disaffected students who are shown a way out of their ennui (via a concoction he offers) by a man they meet at a café (the Eden of the title); Jourdan is supposed to have a night-time tryst with him at a factory but, on arriving for the appointment, she is intimidated by some of her fellow students and finds the man dead! Taking a clue from a postcard of an Arabian town found in the stranger’s pocket, Jourdan gets mixed-up in espionage (the MacGuffin in this case being a valuable missing portrait), games of a sexual nature, drug-induced hallucinations and murder; eventually, we come full circle and the story returns to the Eden and the arrival once again of the stranger...

Director, Alain Robbe-Grillet clearly had a liking for young ladies in very short mini dresses and their being chased and sometimes caught and sometimes more. Well he films this so beautifully and has such a beautiful lead in Catherine Jourdan that it is hard to object too much. I understand this was inspired by composer Schoenberg's original twelve tone technique and so there are a number (twelve actually) elements of narrative with repetition but I'm not sure I'm too interested in all that. The film is wonderful to look at, at all times and has some sort of narrative flow but it can be an effort to stay with it because nothing ever seems to be resolved or made very clear. The director, of course wrote Last Year at Marienbad and the pretty young Jourdan appeared with Marianne Faithful in, Girl on a Motorcycle.

Yikes, talk about self-indulgent. It does start off quite frighteningly as a girl is ambushed in an office by a group of colleagues and stripped on what looks like a sacrificial table! Then we discover that it's nothing more than a bunch of bored and wired students who have nothing better to do than play their own version of psycho-cleudo. Then they encounter the enigmatic "Duchemin" (Pierre Zimmer) who regales them with stories of his time in North Africa and of a special powder that could change their lives for ever. Gullible as they are, off we head to some beautifully pristine Tunisian seaside adobe homes where the rest of this plays out. Surreal is putting the rest of this mildly, so don't be looking for anything akin to a traditional plot as the group start to hallucinate and partake in some real Marquis de Sade kind of stuff. Perhaps it's meant to be erotic - but nudity in itself (almost exclusively female) is not necessarily sexy nor provocative. For the last half hour or so, you could easily be forgiven for thinking you're watching a "Playboy" shoot. To be fair, the randomness and unpredictability does work at times and the whole thing keeps you on your toes for a while, but as it gets towards what passes for a conclusion, I felt that perhaps I'd have volunteered for one of the venomous little scorpions that may (or, of course, may not) have featured earlier. It's far too long, far too slow and no attempt is made to develop any form of characterisation amongst these pretty introspective young folks who are easy pickings for their new mentor. It's was showcased at the abandoned 1970 Berlinale and though I am glad I watched it, I shall never bother watching it again.