La Princesse de Montpensier (2010)
Directed by Bertrand Tavernier

Film Review

After the travails and traumas of In the Electric Mist (2009), director Bertrand Tavernier appears to have revelled in his next film, a flamboyant costume drama of the kind he has a strong affinity for and which he does particularly well.  La Princesse de Montpensier is Tavernier's most energetic, attention-grabbing and inspired film in at least a decade, one that will no doubt fill spectators of a certain age with nostalgia for the good old days when Jean Marais swashbuckled his way through the French history books and made history fun and exciting for all.  Actually, the film has somewhat more substance to it than those old swashbucklers and is far more focused on court intrigue and human motivation (primarily the conflict between desire and duty) than on fancy swordplay.  That said, the film has its share of action sequences and strikes a perfect balance between serious drama and showy spectacle.

La Princesse de Montpensier is set in one of the most turbulent periods of French history - the Wars of Religion of the second half of the 16th century, which saw almost the entire country ravaged by bitter conflict between its two main religious groups, the Roman Catholics and the Protestant Huguenots, a conflict which was fuelled by the factional rivalry between the House of Bourbon and the House of Guise.  It is an era which has, surprisingly, been overlooked by French cinema,  Patrice Chéreau's La Reine Margot (1994) being the only other film of note to deal with it.  La Princesse de Montpensier is adapted from a novella of the same title by Madame de La Fayette, published anonymously in 1662, twelve years before her most celebrated work, La Princesse de Clèves, France's first historical novel.  This latter work has recently been adapted as La Belle personne (2008) by Christophe Honoré, a contemporary drama rather than a period piece.

As with his other historical films - most notably Que la fête commence (1975) and La Vie et rien d'autre (1989) - Bertrand Tavernier takes his subject seriously, but not too seriously.  He captures something of the exuberance and colour of the populist costume dramas of the 1950s and 60s, but whilst doing so he also goes for a more realist slant, taking great pains to make the characters and their situations believable to a sophisticated modern audience.  Some will doubtless criticise Tavernier's approach as being cautious and old-fashioned, but most will see it as offering a refreshing alternative to the over-egged historical pantomimes that have become prevalent in recent years - films so saturated in CGI-effects and so obsessed with imposing current fashions and moral values on the past that they lack any historical context and dramatic truth.

Whilst there are a few unfortunate sequences in La Princesse de Montpensier where you can't help feeling Tavernier is trying a little too hard to court devotees of the Ridley Scott school of historical drama, this is, by and large, a fairly traditional period film, of the kind that was hugely popular in the 1980s and 90s. There are no silly anachronisms or facile references to contemporary fads here, just a solid film d'époque, crafted with zeal and integrity.  It may be a conventional piece, but it does have an immediacy which most of today's historical films lack.  Much of the credit for this should go to Tavernier's screenwriters, Jean Cosmos and François-Olivier Rousseau, who bring depth and realism to every character in the film, whilst rigorously respecting the historical context.

The film achieves its modernity not through hysterical direction or excessive use of special effects, but via the casting of young and relatively unknown actors in the principals roles.  If this was a gamble then it certainly paid off.  Judging by what they bring to this film, we can expect to see a lot more of Mélanie Thierry, Raphaël Personnaz and Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet in future years.   Lambert Wilson and Gaspard Ulliel need no introduction - both are established actors, favourites with auteur filmmakers, who never fail to deliver the goods - but here both are out-classed by a star in the making, Mélanie Thierry.  In a captivating performance that shows remarkable depth and subtlety, Thierry is devastatingly convincing as the strong-willed aristocrat who struggles to assert her independence at a time when women were inescapably the subjugated sex.  Her character's struggle against male dominance is fought with as much passion and conviction as the war of religious intolerance that rages around her.  And how ironic that the most powerful person of this era should be a woman, the implacable queen mother Catherine de Medicis, who is never far from the events we see depicted in this film.

It is not too difficult to detect contemporary themes in this film, but these are subtly woven into the narrative, so that an attentive spectator can pick up on them and gain a deeper understanding of the characters, without the film surrendering its period authenticity.  Visually, the film is stunning - it won a César for its costumes and merits as much for its sets and cinematography - proving that it is still possible to make an exciting, eye-catching piece of cinema without resorting to over-the-top special effects.  La Princesse de Montpensier is one of the most impressive historical dramas in recent years, a film that restores respectability to a kind of cinema that lately has fallen into disrepute amid the present craze for vacuous spectacle.  Let's hope it encourages other costume-oriented filmmakers to follow suit, to dispense with the gadgets and gimmicks and treat history with the respect it deserves.

Film Synopsis

1562.  Under the reign of Charles IX, religious wars continue to rage across France.  From an early age, Marie de Mézières has been in love with Henri, Duc de Guise, but her father compels her to marry the Prince de Montpensier.  When her husband is summoned by the king to join the war against the Protestants, Marie is left in the care of her tutor, the Count de Chabannes, at the Château de Champigny.  She tries in vain to forget her passion for Guise and becomes an unwitting participant in a contest of rival passions involving the Duc d'Anjou, the future Henri III.