“I saw a Rohmer film once. It was kind of like watching paint dry.”
- Harry Moseby; Night Moves (1975)
While I’ve never outright disliked the work of French auteur Eric Rohmer, I can’t say that Gene Hackman’s hardnosed detective Harry Moseby was wrong in his characterization of the films of the New Wave icon. What I can do is draw a parallel that I couldn’t shake the thought of while watching Rohmer’s A Tale of Winter (1992). I learned from Roger Ebert’s “Great Movies” review of the film that Rohmer is often compared in criticism to the Japanese master Yasujirô Ozu, but I liken him more to Woody Allan. That is, if Allan’s films were not comedies.
Let me explain. Allan’s most rigid drama, Interiors (1978), has a similar look and feel to this Rohmer effort. The two pictures are about different periods in the development of a family, and have different tones, but each centers heavily on the choices we make about who we love and how we analyze the validity of that emotion. I suppose that description makes the connection to Ozu obvious as well. I think I’m simply more apt to draw comparison to an American director because, primarily, I was raised on American films. I think Harry Moseby has a similar issue. He’s certainly an American character, and Rohmer films are about as European as they come.
A Tale of Winter is a film without cynicism, or at least it features a female lead who has none. I can think of few American films, or lead parts, that fall into that category. It’s also a film with almost no romantic payoff. Virtually every scene concerns a breakup, or the build up to a breakup, or its aftermath. There is one sex scene, and it comes so early in the narrative that the characters who participate have not yet been introduced to the audience. It resembles a standard Hollywood rom.com. about as much as I resemble male rom. com. lead.
The story concerns Félicie, a hairdresser who had a holiday affair five years ago, but mistakenly gave her lover, Charles, the wrong address for him to contact her. From that affair she has a few photos and the daughter of a man whose last name she has forgotten. She has not, however, forgotten him, and believes that perhaps they will meet again. This belief holds her back from committing to either of the two boyfriends she juggles, and she’s accepted this fact. She and her daughter move in with her boss for a brief while, but it’s clear to her that she can live with no man other than the absent Charles. She openly admits this to everyone she becomes involved with, and tells her mother that it is the reason she cannot marry. She’s devoted to the father of her child. She likes what’s natural she tells one boyfriend, but not what’s plausible she confides to the other, and she lives each day with the thought that Charles might return, or that he may be gone forever. I have a friend who takes a similar approach to gambling. He claims that the odds in any game of chance are 50/50. Either what you bet on will win, or it won’t. There’s only two ways it can go.
A Tale of Winter is a film of conversations. Action is limited to salons, living rooms, and dining tables. Exteriors are used sparingly, but effectively, and sometimes have little relevancy until later conversations confirm what has been shown. Rohmer is smart enough to give the audience the credit that they will remember what they have seen. He also builds a wonderful use of Shakespeare into his plot, as one of the boyfriends takes Félicie to a production of A winter’s Tale. A scene within the play is all she needs to redeem her hope, and justify her faith in a love worth holding onto.
Rohmer’s film isn’t likely to appeal to every movie fan, but the intelligent viewer will appreciate a picture that handles adult relationships appropriately, while simultaneously displaying a character with the faith of a child. Félicie has been hurt, and has made mistakes, but she has no regrets. Holding out for a chance at true love, even if it defies common sense, appeals to her, and it vicariously appeals to the audience. A Tale of Winter wouldn’t make my own list of “must see” films, but it’s inclusion on the 1001 list doesn’t seem unjustified.
Language: French
Runtime: 114 Minutes
Grade: 2 Hats Off
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