Under the Sun of Satan

Dossignan (Gérard Depardieu) is a zealous rural priest. The dean Menou-Segrais tries to keep him reasonable. But Dossignan will be tempted by Satan, then will try to save the soul of Mouchette, a young woman who killed one of her lovers.

Having not read the original novel, I couldn't say how much is from the original and how much is from the film itself. But despite being from the 1920s, the story has a very modern feel to it. It could be the 1920s, the 1980s or even the 2010s.

There is that constant play between faith, conviction and organization. And it need not be the Catholic Church. Any organization, religious or secular, will have its passionate members who want to do something more. This is a very nice examination of that, and really showcases what made Depardieu an international star.

Smart, challenging, ultimately unsuccessful film that wowed viewers at Cannes. The film has exquisite acting and some brilliant scenes, but it's too convoluted to make any kind of impact on the viewer. Gerard Depardieu shines in his difficult role as does Sandrine Bonnaire.

The best scene in the film is when Depardieu comes across Satan -- chilling.

I'm not quite sure what people mean when they say this film is "difficult". On the surface, the film has a very straightforward storyline of a priest (played brilliantly and movingly by Depardieu) struggling with his own demons that materialise internally and externally.

From this basic premise the film can be explored from several key standpoints to obtain real insights into subjects such as the power/source of faith, the relationship between thought/belief and one's relationship to the world we inhabit.

Moreover, the questioning employed by Pialat and Depardieu means that the path of thought through these issues is profound, intense and disturbing. The film provokes the intellect constantly and I could understand that if there was nothing more to the film, one might say that "is that it?"

What takes this film much further is the emotional undercurrent - both understated and abyssal, the stunning cinematography and restrained direction. These factors combine to create a complete cinematic experience.

One scene stands out in this respect: we watch the priest wander the countryside in a daze and he pauses on the side of a hill, lush with spring grass. Depardieu looks up, eyes searching for insight, an answer, a response. In a brilliant stroke of luck, passing clouds obscure the sun and Depardieu instinctively internalises this shifting light with a simultaneous passing of emotion portrayed through his face and posture. We watch both the internal shifting cloud of emotion and the changing light create a charge and intensity that is rarely seen in cinema. There is an element of the `unknowable' in this scene that still moves me, even after many viewings.

I also enjoy making comparison between this film and Dreyer's "Das Wort" (The Word), my favourite of Dreyer's works which has some common theme's, explored from different perspectives.

A truly great film, worthy of the Palme D'or it won.

Wonderful! Fascinating! Bernanos captured with an obvious anti-clerical twist from Pialat. A cult-movie for art-movies amateurs... If you have seen other Pialat's films, you understand the progression of his art. Very honest film that shakes your bones to the core. Sandrine Bonnaire is just perfect and Depardieu's calm and open acting works very well with the character. A dark movie at its best! This is a well-deserved Golden Palm from the 1987 Cannes Festival, handed by Yves Montand, as president of the Jury. What a scandal it was -- giving the palm to an outcast like Pialat. History will remember that Cannes, on its 50th anniversary, tried and succeeded on promoting true art in films.

The novice priest declares himself unable to pursue his calling, given the sinfulness that he speaks of in his parish. But, from the start, he is pouring out his feelings of inadequacy without our seeing anything that he has had to face. It is all mere talk; and his near hysteria might be explained when, after he has collapsed (in a faint, or a fit?), his sympathetic and humble spiritual adviser uncovers the blood-spattered chest--the consequence of his self-flagellation, of which we witness another bout later. Is he fanatical, or mad?

We see nothing of the parochial trials, and sickness, endured by Bernanos' Curé de campagne (Robert Bresson's film), faced with hostility and mockery from his villagers. The two traumatic events (Mouchette cutting her throat, and a dying boy "coming to life" in the priest's arms) shock us, but do not form an integral part of the curate's spiritual day-to-day experience. They are merely sensational. Depardieu is not convincing as an agonised believer. Yet, in the spontaneous sincerity of his accompanying interview, he appears to draw inspiration from Augustine!