Que la fête commence...

If you think 2020 is a decadent historical period with dubious morality and opportunist, cynical leaders primarily concerned with satisfying their personal pleasures, then you should try to compare with the year 1719 as presented in the film 'Que la fête commence ...' made in 1975 by Bertrand Tavernier. The English title is 'Let Joy Reign Supreme'.

Louis XIV (the Sun King, 'the state is me', etc.) had died for several years. His great-grandson, the future Louis XV, being a child, the affairs of the state were run by his uncle, the regent Philippe II d'Orleans (played by Philippe Noiret). The rengent was a liberal who had introduced timid political reforms, but also a libertine, an amateur of ever-younger mistresses, procured by his chief adviser, abbot Dubois (Jean Rochefort), a thruster whose main aim was to reach the rank of bishop despite his modest origins. At the royal court and in the palaces of the nobility debauchery, greed and immorality were the norm, and only death, sometimes tragic, sometimes stupid, interrupted the series of parties. The rest of the country mirrored in other shades and colors the same political and moral decay - priesthood was concerned with the excommunication of rats, the small nobility with separatist plots, and the simple people caring for the bread of tomorrow. The story follows the Breton plot led by the picaresque Marquis de Pontcallec (Jean-Pierre Marielle) and the way the higher classes react (or ignore) the growing social fermenting. The seeds of the revolution had been thrown away, but the century was still young and 70 years would pass until the fall of the Bastille.

With this film Bertrand Tavernier approaches a popular and successful genre of French cinema of the 50s and 60s - the cape and sword films, but his heroes are far from being gallant musketeers. The director seems to have not yet mastered the fluidity of the cinematic narrative, very visible in his next films, or he may have been more concerned with the elements of historical satire, the glove-less portrayal of the villains of the time hidden behind their carnival masks, of sarcastic criticism of the decay that rages behind the luxurious decorations and beneath the tables of copious banquets. The historical reconstruction is frothy, with many moments of cynical and extreme humor. Today's viewers who appreciate French cinema and its actors are offered the opportunity to see Philippe Noiret in one of his many notable roles and with Jean Rochefort who camouflages his inborn nobility to embody the role of the Machiavellian abbot who sets in motion political intrigues. The acting revelation, however, is Jean-Pierre Marielle, a lesser-known actor, who builds a memorable character, a kind of late and disturbed Don Quixote, a victim of his own ambitions. The film has a modern look and the 45 years since its creation only contribute to amplifying its effect on the viewers. Paradoxically, or perhaps not, the historical comparison seems even more actual today than it was then.