Four Nights of a Dreamer

Quatre nuits d'un rêveur was shown in the U.S. with the title Four Nights of a Dreamer (1971). It's written and directed by Robert Bresson, based on the short story "White Nights" by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Bresson has moved Dosteovsky's story from 19th Century St. Petersburg to 20th Century Paris, which I think works very well. Both cities are centers of art and romance, and the story and film are all about art and romance.

Jacques, a painter (Guillaume des Forêts), prevents Marthe (Isabelle Weingarten) from committing suicide, and naturally, he falls in love with her. (In view of Ms. Weingarten's sadness and her ethereal beauty, Jacques basically had no choice but to fall in love with her.)

However, we soon learn that Marthe is in love with another man. He has been in the U.S. for a year, and was due home on that day. That fact that he did not call her is what prompted her suicide attempt.

The film follows Marthe and Jacques for the four nights of the title. They walk the streets of Paris, and return to the Seine where musicians on a tourist boat are playing samba music. Jacques is serious about his painting, and discusses art with a friend who comes to visit.

We know something is going to happen, but we don't know what. You'll have to see the film- -or read the short story--to find out what that something is.

Bresson--as always--directs with the secure sure hand of a master. Every shot is beautifully framed, and we can almost feel the Paris night and hear the lapping of the Seine against its banks.

We saw this intense, quiet film at the wonderful Dryden Theatre in Rochester's Eastman House. Other reviewers have noted that it's difficult to purchase on DVD. That's unfortunate, because it would work fairly well on the small screen, and it definitely is worth finding and seeing. It's a jewel-like masterpiece.

Four Nights of a Dreamer is one of those films that European directors are much better at than American ones - expressing a lot merely through its cinematography, at times not making a lot of sense all while it meanders along in an expressive, quiet manner.

The movie is carried by the two leads - Isabelle Weingarten as Marthe and Guillaume des Forêts as Jacques - with all the other roles barely registering. Jacques is a melancholy young painter, alone yet not necessarily lonely. What comes through is his longing for a true love. Through happenstance, Jacques runs in to Marthe when she is at a difficult point in a relationship. They tell each other their stories in a series of flashbacks, then leading to their current situations. While under 90 minutes, the film moves along at a slow, even somnolent, pace. And, as an aside, there are some rather groovy and folky musical interludes that add to the film's air of longing.

Four Nights of a Dreamer is not a great film, it is definitely a pleasure to watch.

Revered for his minimalist approach to cinema, writer-director Robert Bresson shows an unerring artistic eye for his surroundings in this French-Italian co-production (in French with English subtitles); however, he stumbles with this pallid script (inspired by Dostoyevsky's short story "White Nights") about two young people in Paris. It's a flashback-heavy non-romance between a starving artist and a suicidal girl. After stopping her from leaping from a bridge, the painter finds himself drawn to the girl during an intimate conversation wherein they reveal to each other their past and present regrets (she's still pining for her fickle lover). Bresson and cinematographer Pierre Lhomme do capture lyrical, lazy bits of business--and sensual, though not particularly erotic, female nudes. Unfortunately, the characters never take shape, and the amateur actors (a Bresson specialty) aren't compelling. ** from ****

My Rating : 6/10

Minimalist, inconsequential and bland - that's how I would describe 'Four Nights of a Dreamer'.

Bresson's typical ascetic approach to cinematography is no doubt visible however it fails to make any impact on this viewer.

The aimless artist meets a damsel in distress is cinematic cliche and while there are bits of 1970's life and society of France - the lack of emotion makes the story ineffective and dispassionate.

No doubt the worst film-work of all of Bresson's stellar filmography.

From all the Bressons I've seen this week, this one is the hardest to describe. I liked a lot, but I don't exactly know what it was that I liked. The film, taking place mostly at night in the streets and on the bridges of Paris is somewhere in between the typical lethargy and an a-typical hysteria and is about utterly lonely people that meet up with people who are even lonelier. It's fascinating to look how those change directions all the time, interrupt actions to start a completely different one, jump from one anecdote to another. It's a fascinating jumble; you never know what is going to happen next and very similar to Cassavetes' Shadows (which I tend to like more).