MUBI

The Earrings of Madame de… by Max Ophuls is a film like David Lean’s Brief Encounter that comes as close as a film can to a sort of geometrical perfection. Without getting too carried away with abstract terminology The Earrings of Madame de… has such a flawlessly symmetrical feel in that all of the component parts, the ingredients, that go into making a great film, or any film all, fit together so perfectly that it’s like a recipe that looks painfully simple but is impossible to replicate.
This is the third Max Ophuls film I’ve seen after La Ronde and Lola Montes and I think he’s an outstanding filmmaker. He has such an identifiable, signature style with the long, elaborate shots and this strange tone he’s able to sustain in these three films that exists in some nebulous region between tragedy and comedy, sometimes getting close to farce, without really committing to one or the other. The Earrings of Madame de… is about a woman who sells a pair of earrings given to her as a wedding gift by her husband and this act sets of a chain of events that defy all reason. The earrings keep managing to find their way back to her, her husband and her lover as they are passed, purchased and traded around and is the link connecting these three people. It is this business with the earrings that borders on becoming farce but it’s all handled so matter-of-factly that it never seems like an unwanted distraction or digression from the love triangle aspect, which is the heart of the movie and becomes the ultimate tragedy for all three characters.
The Earrings of Madame de… is a simple, and some may say conventional, romantic tragedy but that simplicity can be deceiving. It is not a simplicity that comes from negligence or of anything lacking or timidity on the part of the filmmaker. It is a kind of simplicity that cannot be duplicated because it comes from such a complete mastery of craft. It comes from a very deep place within the heart of the artist. It’s a paring down to a level where any sort of stylistic cosmetics or pyrotechnics are no longer required as a means to boldly express feeling or ideas. The artist is able to condense 1000 different things into a means of expression that is almost imperceptible. You may think superficially that you’ve seen this kind of film before but you haven’t. The only modern comparisons I can think of are maybe some of Clint Eastwood’s films or Akira Kurosawa’s Kagemusha and Ran.
The Earrings of Madame de… is one of the all-time great films. It is the kind of film that you watch in amazement and when it’s over you say, “THAT is a movie!” Movies like this are why I love movies!

There are several scenes within my viewing of Madame De… last night that are highly worthy to note. Madame De… begins with a simplistic scene in which the film’s protagonist, Louise, is looking through her closet and drawers for a accessory. It is a wondrously shot scene because we only see her hands and hear her sweet voice narrate every little thing in her closet and drawers. This touches on the materialism most of the rich has for such items which will be more important as the film goes along. It should be noted that I didn’t realize the full perfection of the scene until the film was finished.

I was rather bored of the film’s first 20 or 30 minutes and it wasn’t until the meeting of Donati and Louise that I started to become interested. The sequence in which Donati and Louise dance together and slowly fall in love is beautiful in it’s tenderness and sweet in it’s melancholy. The camera follows them dance and edits to another party when the repeated dialogue reaches it’s end. By the sequence’s end, the couple are completely weary, suggesting that all the dances were connected and that they were dancing in one incredibly long night, as opposed to multiple nights together.

My next favorite scene is probably the film’s best scene. Conscious to the fact that his wife is unhappy in the marriage, Andre tells his wife that he’s going to fix the problem with her. Before doing so, he closes the windows and makes sure every door is shut. Instead of letting us, the viewer, know what’s going to happen between the two, the director decides against it. We are shown Andre closing the doors and windows from outside of the house rather than inside it. The film throughout has a certain sense of voyeurism and it’s never as clear as it is in this scene. Andre’s wanting of privacy is understandable. The placement of the camera outside of the home is what sets this film aside. We are not given the comforts of the interior of the home nor are we given the comfort of knowing how exactly Andre is going to fix the problem with the wife. By placing the audience outside of the home, Andre (and Max Ophuls) are saying that we can’t be included of viewership of everything the Bourgeious do. Our exclusion from the scene adds to the ambiguity of the film piece.

The most obvious favorite scene is the “tearing up of the letter and the throwing out of the remains from the train window” sequence. The torn up pieces of letter are blown stronger and joined by more pieces of letters. The torn up pieces of letter are eventually transformed into falling snow blowing in the wind. This sequence is probably the most beautiful passage of time sequences ever committed to film.

Finally, the last scene of the film harkens back to the dominating Andre. Near the film’s end, he confronts Donati about his affair with his wife. The use of rapid editing, slanted shots, and accusatory dialogue makes this a painstakingly nauseating scene. For instance, Andre references his mistress when he is presented at a slant by the camera. The same slant is shown on Donati when Andre references Donati’s affair with Louise. Every shot stays for about a second or two until it cuts to the next in a rhythmic quickness. The entire scene is a compliment to the actors within it. Charles Boyer’s Andre is a creature of dominating force combined with mean spiritedness and discomforting control, yet always has a trait of approachable warmness to him.

Testament to the film being about appearances are the two train scenes in the film. The first is Andre warmly and happily saying goodbye to his mistress, while the other is Andre wearily and awkwardly bidding farewell to his wife. Looking back, the two scenes in the film not only mirror each other in a farewell on a train station, but aesthetics as well. These scene show that both characters, personally, that both characters would be happier without each other. However, Andre is obsessed with keeping up his appearance. His domineering attitude towards Louise forces her to give up her beloved earrings and ultimately leads to his decision to challenge Donati to a life or death duel. Personally, I find Boyer’s performance to be the finest in the film. Closely followed is Danielle Darrieux who makes Louise’s longing heartbreaking and soulful.

The only problem I have with this otherwise excellent film is the ending. Perhaps I just don’t understand France in that time, but can’t someone not accept a offer to a life or death battle? It just seems a bit odd that Donati would agree to such a thing so easily, but in hindsight makes a little sense.
The film throughout is beauty through ambiguousness. I have never realized a love for the film after writing at extent like this. It’s beautiful and wonderfully directed by Max Ophuls. Where the story suffers, the direction soars. I am sure there are bits of nuance within this film that I have not yet noticed. Wondrously complex, but stunningly simple. I loved Madame De…

Madame de… (Max Ophüls, 1953)

So upon 2nd viewing I think Madame de… is probably a perfect movie. A watchful eye and a more rested mind totally improved the experience. It was glorious to see everyone dance on the mirrors in that ball scene, something that totally went by me the first time I saw the movie. The camera moves by in such a fashion that draws you in, those long tracking shots, like the one where Madame de… walks across the room before being caught in her white lie, are so beautiful and impressive. I’m impressed. The acting is phenomenal across the board. I laughed when that Bible fell from her closet in the opening scene and loved the carriage crash scene. The music plays an incredibly important role in this movie, everything’s built around it. Oh those earrings of Madame de… I want to see this movie again and again.