La Fiancée du pirate (1969)
Directed by Nelly Kaplan

Film Review

Argentinean born writer Nelly Kaplan won instant acclaim for this, a distinctly individual film which marked her directorial debut.  Kaplan had previously worked with Abel Gance on his later films and had rubbed shoulders with the surrealist writer André Breton; both of these influences are noticeable in her own work.

La Fiancée du pirate is clearly a film of its time, on the one hand a bold feminist strike against self-proclaimed male superiority, on the other a keen reflection of the wider changes which were starting to change France's social and political landscape.  Although wondrously tongue-in-cheek and, in some places, hilariously funny, the film drives home a number of serious social messages, and the fate of its heroine, Marie, is rather poignant, even if she does ultimately appear to win the battle of the sexes.

The film offers Bernadette Lafont, that alluring enfant sauvage beloved by the New Wave directors, what is arguably her most significant screen role.  Lafont's screen persona combines a raw, buxom feminine beauty with a dangerously mischievous - almost anarchistic - personality, making her the director's choice for the part of the free-spirited, sexually liberated muse.  It is the kind of role Lafont excels in, giving pleasure to her audience and no end of artistic credibility to the film - witness her extraordinary contribution in such films as Chabrol's Les Bonnes femmes (1960), Truffaut's Une belle fille comme moi (1972) and Eustache's La Maman et la putain (1974).   La Fiancée du pirate, however, shows Lafont at her best.  The actress has stated that the part of Marie fitted her like a glove, and she certainly manages to put a huge amount into the film, making it a forceful study of the female psyche, showing how a sensitive young woman can be driven to cynically exploit those who have all but destroyed her life.

The beauty of this film is that whilst it tackles some serious themes, in the guise of a well-crafted moral tale, it is never for a moment heavy or depressing.  Neither is it out-and-out farce, although the odd assortment of country folk we see in this film would not be out of place in a riotous comedy.  The film treads the tightrope between drama and comedy so adeptly that we are not always sure whether to laugh or not.  There are a few places where the comedy is well sign-posted and irresistibly funny, but in others you are less certain.  Is Marie really in control of her situation, even when she manages to get the upper hand on her entourage?  Or has the fact that she is even more marginalised given her an even greater tragic dimension?  The film's ending, an obvious reference to René Clair's À nous la liberté, suggests that Marie has broken free to start a new life.   But it could be that her independent spirit will condemn her to live the life of an outcast forever.  Freedom has its price, and perhaps it is really the down-trodden slaves who are happiest in this twisted world of servants and masters.

Film Synopsis

In a tightly knit rural community, Marie and her mother are outcasts, living in a small wood cabin.  Marie is exploited and abused by both her employer, a lesbian landowner, and her oversexed male neighbours, who include the town's mayor and a seemingly respectable shopkeeper.  When her mother is killed in a road accident, Marie decides it is time to turn the tables on her tormenters.  She starts to make them pay for her sexual favours, and, thanks to her innate talent for seduction, she soon becomes the wealthiest person in the area.  In the end, her neighbours decide that Marie is a corrupting influence and contrive to have her forced out of the village.  Marie, however, intends to have the last laugh...