User reviews

What an elegant and atmospheric overlooked gem this was from Max Ophuls! Depicting in his usual florid and incredibly detailed style the lives and loves of various stereotypical characters from fin de siecle Paris, when the rich supposedly had taste and grace - before us poor diluted them.

Instead of watching people on the metaphorical merry-go-round of love as we did in La Ronde or a merry-go-round of stories as we did in Le Plaisir, this time we watch a souvenir of love, a pair of earrings on their travels back and forth between lovers and the same jeweller. The mature lovers were staid Charles Boyer, coquettish Dannielle Darrieux and romantic Vittorio De Sica engaged at first in playful flirtation but naturally turning into something far more serious: love. You are left at the end to extrapolate the outcome for yourselves, but I doubt they went on as Three! All 3 roles were played with beautiful restraint, De Sica especially, coming so soon after Umberto D's overwhelmingly serious message was ignored.

The roving camera-work paying loving attention to the period background sets was sublime, and as can only be found in Ophuls' best 6 films – this is how he would have made the film in 1900! The perfectly timed choreography for the dancing scenes of course extended to nearly everything else, even to things as simple as opening and shutting mirrored wardrobes in Madame de … 's gorgeously cluttered bedroom or people climbing up or down a rickety wooden spiral staircase at the jewellers. All in all, marvellous entertainment ravishing to the eyes, of a type you won't see anywhere outside of Ophuls. In fact, words have failed me.

I keep wondering where these amazing treasures, such as "The Earrings of Madame De..." have been all my life. This 1953 Max Ophuls film is magnificent in every respect - direction, acting, script, photography, with just the right touch of humor for what is, in essence, a tragic love story.

It is 19th Century France. Danielle Darrieux is "Comtesse Louise De..." who in the beginning of the film sells a pair of heart-shaped earrings given to her by her husband, General Andre De... (Charles Boyer), as she has some expenses that she must meet. She trusts the jeweler's confidentiality. During a production of "Orfeo e Euridice," she announces to Andre that she's left her earrings somewhere. However, the jeweler tells Andre about the sale; Andre buys back the earrings and gives them to his girlfriend, whom he's dumping. When she needs gambling money, she sells them, and they are purchased by Baron Donati (Vittorio di Sica) as a gift for his new girlfriend - the Comtesse Louise! The earrings are a symbol of fate, the volatility of love, and the meaning of possession. The General is a possessive man, but he wants to have his cake and eat it, too, presenting these beautiful earrings to two women. The Comtesse doesn't want the earrings when they're from her husband; when they're from her lover, she's desperate to find a way that she can wear them and resorts to manipulation in order to do so. For Donati, they're a symbol of romantic love, but when he realizes that his beloved is flesh and blood and not totally truthful, he becomes disillusioned.

All of this is done with looks, a word, a suggestion, a dance, the placement of furniture (the General and Comtesse sleep in the same room, miles apart) - nothing too overt. The delicacy and subtlety of the film is magical.

The beautiful Danielle Darrieux, now 92 and with a film coming out next year, does a beautiful job as the flirtatious Louise, who becomes more involved than she planned - she goes from flirty to passionate and finally to desperate. DeSica is a handsome and charming suitor; and Boyer has just the right amount of edge on his performance. He's not the monster of "Gaslight," but an authoritative Frenchman who doesn't want a scandal and becomes annoyed when he sees that his wife's romance has gone a little too far.

With its fluid photography, pace, and romance, "The Earrings of Madame de..." is a true gem. No other way to describe it.

Call me a pessimist, but the ending of Madame De doesn't spell too much in the way of happiness for any of the characters, even if what one might think as the worst possible scenario didn't happen. Max Ophuls, with his brilliant film The Earrings of Madame De, doesn't allow the usual catharsis that one might expect from a romantic drama of this sort, where infidelity is merely implied and the veneer of early 20th century bourgeois is a cover for a feelings that rarely get in view. Instead, as with the rest of the film, we're given something of a wonderful contradiction, where something is compelling and graceful, but in a sort of dark way too. The doomed love of the film is one where the simple act of admitting love is a tough thing to do, and at the same time this doom is contrasted by a very swift, effortlessly moving camera, which goes around its characters trying to get us completely immersed in this world while feeling at the same time something isn't quite right. Why shouldn't Louise get what she really would want? Well, then the movie would be over pretty quickly.

Instead Ophuls makes Madame De (Danielle Darrieux) a character who goes through a radical transformation: she starts off being careless with how she possesses things, her objects, as she goes randomly in a 'whatever' mode at the start through her possessions, getting ready to go out in the town. She sells off her precious earrings, given as a wedding present, just because, not for any really serious reason. This leads to an amusing trail of sort of a mini-movie, where we see the trail of the earrings: she puts up her cover-story that she lost the earrings while at a show, and despite all ill-fated efforts they can't be found. But, the original seller notifies the Général André de (Charles Boyer, the perfect presence for this role), and he decides to not tell his wife he found them, and instead passes them off to his mistress, who is leaving him to Constantinople. Cut to after she loses them in a gambling frenzy, and it winds up at a pawn shop, and soon after in Baron Donati's hands (Vittorio De Sica, handsome as ever, and with some depth to his soul too). Donati, of course, soon ends up in the life of Madame De at first as a simple diplomat, and then dancing with her every night, and then finally the two barely can stand being away from one another. And what about the earrings?

The love-triangle, of what is there and what isn't for the three of them, is made all the more exceptional here due to two major things really: the performances being as precise to a certain style that Ophuls is after, where there is a total understanding to what is going on but a serious attitude to what the characters are going through, and Ophuls as the director. For the latter, let it be said that this is arguably one of the best directed films not only of the 50s but to come out of France in general. Ophuls puts so many small touches in his pacing and timing of scenes, of how he lets little amusements enter his cheerful atmosphere, especially in the first half. Like the boy who has to keep going back up the stairs to fetch things for his jewel-dealer father, or when the General is looking around for the earrings and the soldiers have to keep getting up, or, of course, the dancing scenes between Donati and Louise, where the tracking shots and the dissolves merge together, and the storytelling becomes completely enriched by this combination of methods.

And Ophuls, to be sure, knows how to make this 19th century upper-class European sentiment genuine through details like how far apart the General and his wife sleep at their beds (not even in the same room), and what is never said outright or expressed makes what is felt all the more powerful. Louise, as seen through the talented Darrieux, is one who suddenly finds from what was previously a fairly basic and comfortable existence in the General's quarters- very rich quarters- to be very constricting and cold when compared to what Donati has to offer. I also liked a lot how Boyer doesn't make General Andre a completely unsympathetic villain either- he's a guy who, sort of like Louise, doesn't know how to cope with possessiveness, and sees his protective shield he's put around Louise from the world as something good for her. And the earrings, which come back to her from Donati, represent all that is possible in loving or not loving someone, with just a reminder being enough. Likewise, there's the aspect of Donati lacking the possessive qualities of his counterparts, but puts him at a disadvantage to be anything more than an incredibly charming facade, in a sense, of what could be.

So there was a lot I left pondering after the Earrings of Madame de, but it was mostly all in the context of this not really being very paunchy or pretentious, but a very exquisite presentation of the tragedy of real love for the privileged in this world. It's very entertaining as well, and I was surprised to see how many times I or someone in the theater had a chuckle (i.e. the running-gag of the jewelry-dealer popping up) when watching the film. And on top of Ophuls incredible visual prowess, the musical score is unforgettable, as I was whistling all those wonderful melodies and suites long after the film ended. Though the Earrings of Madame De is a little hard to find, unless if re-released or through obscure video channels, it's well worth it to see how far a filmmaker can go to revealing the crushing, vulnerable layers underneath the superficial surfaces. Plus, it's a great way to get introduced to Ophuls's unique style.

The most striking element of this film is the way in which the camera maintains such a fluid and sensitive movement, creating a sense of frustrated distance between the action within the film and those viewing it. The opening sequence introduces us to this technique, as we follow the search of the Countess through her dressing table, and gradually are shown the reflection of her face in the mirror. Throughout the film there are numerous long, fluid shots, often following a character physically through a series of situations and sets. The camera acts as a totally impartial observer, moving amongst the set and often being placed so as to appear to hinder a clear view of the action. However, the complicated and intricate relationship between the position of the camera and that of the character it follows is a vital stylistic element. We are distanced from the action, and yet also have an intimate relationship with it; the fact that the camera often has to retrace its steps in order to follow the character presents a spontaneous, realistic image.

More importantly perhaps is the continuity that this camera technique gives the film. The film charts the flow of a series of events that are all caused ultimately by one single event. Visually, the flow of images is indicative of the inevitability of the series of events, and aurally the fact that much of the music that we hear in the film is in fact from within the action, such as the dance and the theater, suggest again continuity and unity, as well as immediacy.

It's a movie I discovered 10 years ago, and I instantly fell in love with it. The romantic aspect of the movie was really jaw-breaking, and I couldn't keep admiring the incredible acting by the Danielle Darrieux/Charles Boyer/Vittorio de Sica trio. I was blown away by the powerful but slow and yet fast love between Danielle Darrieux's character and Vittorio de Sica's, by their beautiful intimacy and passion during the ballroom scenes, by the extremely romantic yet elegant love scene, and also the incredible twist the plot took just because of a pair of earrings!!! A must see!! It's such a shame though that the movie is underrated though it's a classic!! It deserves its place in French movie industry along Marcel Carné's, Jean Renoir's and François Truffaut's classics!!

I hate to burst everyone's bubble here, but this film left me cold as ice. The main character, Madame de, is vacuous and unlikable. Right from the beginning, when she lies about losing the earrings, she loses all sympathy. Her passion for the Baron is unconvincing - she seems as bored with him as she is with her husband. Unfortunately, her boredom becomes ours as well. I expected a story with some deep, emotional resonance but instead, felt removed from the characters and their situation. The plot is contrived and the ending is rather anticlimactic. Yes, the costumes and camera work are lovely, but they wear thin long before the film ends. Overall, "Madame de…" is a disappointing viewing experience.

Max Ophuls directs this tale of romance and jealousy set near turn-of-the century France. Danielle Darrieux plays the unsatisfied wife of an adulterous French General, Charles Boyer. In order to pay off other frivolous expenses she has incurred, she sells off the earrings that her husband had presented to her on the day after their wedding, and then claims that she lost them. She meets a princely Baron, Vittorio de Sica, and romance slowly blooms. Meanwhile, the earrings she has sold keep turning up in her life only to haunt her. The three leads are wonderful, as is the atmosphere in this luxuriously elegant French film. The change in Darrieux's feelings for the earrings keeps the film fascinating throughout. The emotions of all the characters are presented in a romantic, yet somehow realistic nature.

A Parisian countess pawns her precious earrings and lies to her husband that she lost it. The film looks and sounds beautiful, with its opulent cinematography and romantic score. Ophuls' fluid camera work is quite impressive, but he is let down by a routine script that runs out of steam long before the final credits roll. The acting by Darrieux, Boyer, and De Sica is good, although the characters are not particularly well developed. After starting out as a light romantic drama, the film's tone turns rather serious. In fact, it turns into something of a dreary soap opera featuring a tragic love triangle. The contrived ending does not help matters.

Max Ophuls' masterwork, "Madame de . . ." retains its haunting beauty, with memorable performances, photography, and direction. The tracking shots are remarkable, as is the quality of the overall production. Charles Boyer heads a distinguished cast that works like a finely tuned string trio. A genuine film classic.

I tried to watch this movie on VHS years ago, but found it too boring to get through. I decided to give it another chance in a real theater, because I'd heard that it's such a classic. It definitely improved on the big screen (well, not that big), but the good things about the movie are undercut by the unsatisfactory story. The film starts out like a biting social comedy, on the order of "La Ronde", but strangely changes tone partway through, turning much darker. But because of the light opening, the characters are not three-dimensional enough to support a serious story. The actors, especially Darrieux, are good enough that they almost make it work, but they needed a better script. The abrupt, unexplained ending was especially frustrating to me.

The film is beautifully shot, but the camera-work was a little too hyper for me in places--a dance sequence made me literally dizzy. (Probably most people wouldn't have a problem with that.) Also, the rich, somewhat claustrophobic production design showed a few too many 1950's influences for my taste.

On the positive side, I admired the way Ophuls created (on the surface) a believable world of the rich, and yet had an awareness of the poorer people that surrounded it. That was something I did not expect.

It strains the imagination and saddens the heart to wonder at the existence of those people, long past, who would strive for such a sublime accomplishment.

"It's when we've the most to say that we're silent"

The dramatic situations develop so that we feel every word the characters leave unsaid. The situation speaks, and then the characters comment cleverly, explain themselves to their best advantage in that momentary sparkle that is "life"

The relationship of the director to his characters: they are allowed to be witty, to be beautiful, profound, and deeply human, yet in this humanity is their futility, a charming futility. As in the classics, The passions rule all humans. The characters are as puppets, not to the director, but to the passions.

The camera moves, yes, and you may have heard of Ophuls' flowing camera. It is not empty style, but dynamism, concision, and, more importantly, the flow of life that is his moving camera. It is the flowing movement of Ovid's Metamorphoses, the inexorable flow of life. The camera doesn't so much follow the actors, but that the flow of life is happening, and the characters are swimming in that stream of happening.

Why does he persistenly show the characters through a pain of glass? These are the boundaries of social propriety, the confines of their situation. Ophuls knew it best: life is a movie

Vladimir Nabokov wrote a short story entitled "La Veneziana"... Have I strayed from the subject? But, aren't all things sublime closely related?

I have learned, through persistent trial, that '98 is a fine year for Rhone. I suggest that you open a bottle, pour a glass, and push "Play" on "The Earrings Of Madame De..."

"unhappiness is an invented thing"

grace

In the end of the Nineteenth Century, in Paris, the futile Countess Louise (Danielle Darrieux) is spending too much money and decides to sell the valuable earrings her wealthy husband, General André (Charles Boyer), gave to her in their wedding to the jeweler Mr. Rémy (Jean Debucourt) to pay her debts. Then she lies to her husband telling that she has lost them in the theater. When the general resolves to call the police, Mr. Rémy visits his client and discloses the truth about the earrings. General André secretly buys the earrings again and gives to his mistress Lola (Lia Di Leo) that is moving to Constantinople. Lola gambles and loses, and needs to sell the earrings. The Italian diplomat Baron Fabrizio Donati (Vittorio De Sica) sees the earrings in a window of a pawn shop, he buys them. Donati travels to Paris and meets Louise, and they become lovers. He gives the earrings to Louise and she tells another lie to her husband, telling that she found them in her drawer. Her little lies lead the lovers to a tragedy.

"The Earrings of Madame de..." is a beautiful and stylish romance directed by Max Ophüls where a pair of earrings is the pivot for romantic but also tragic situations. The production is impressive, with wonderful locations and set decoration, elegant costumes and magnificent black and white cinematography. The story of a passionate woman that uses to lie and finds her true love is tense, with great performances. I saw this movie for the first time on 24 June 2001 and I have just seen it again. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Desejos Proibidos" ("Forbidden Desires")

The film is elegant, although it is a bit cold, without harming, however, its remarkable level. In fact, it perfectly counterbalances the expressed love of Baron Donati for Madame Louise, the unexpressed love of Madame Louise for the Baron, her pastiches and dangerous lies, the mystery that surrounds her, starting from the original title, "Madame De…", a mystery by which she likes to be surrounded. Also the love concealed under formal acts of a daily routine of the General towards Louise, his wife, is very important for the story as well as his jealousy, which is very refined, under the aspect of a "nonchalant" friendship for Baron Donati, up to the final cruelty. The lightness of music, the high rhythm of dances, the brilliant military and diplomatic uniforms, the precious toilets, all cooperates to construct a romantic but not too sweet atmosphere around passions, secrets, untrue confessions, disappointments, pains, death. Danielle Darrieux, Charles Boyer, Vittorio De Sica, in spite of their different extractions as actors, are softly melted in a plot tasting peach and lemon. Danielle Darrieux is faithful to certain roles performed by her, Charles Boyer appears to have forgotten his passionate roles as a lover and Vittorio De Sica is deprived of his humorous vein, but all of them deserve a standing ovation in my opinion.

Before we get to the review, let's pop in our pocket protectors and wake up our inner film nerd. Yes, it's that kind of movie, but not in a heavy-handed artsy way that will lose the casual moviegoer. This flick is a fine example of how to mix technical wizardry and down-to-earth storytelling to create a masterpiece that can be enjoyed by everyone.

"Madame de..." (1953) is a wonderful Victorian period piece adapted from the 1951 French novel by Louise Lévêque de Vilmorin. It's set in Vienna at an ambiguous time in the 19th century (before electricity was discovered in 1879 is all we can surmise), and it tells the tale of one of the many nameless, unremarkable rich socialites of the time except that something remarkable happens to her. Indeed, the opening titles tease us with: "Her life would have been forgotten by history, if not for those jewels."

What follows is an brilliant unraveling of the mystery, supposedly centered around a trivial set of earrings but revealing itself to be so much more. I've never read the book, but story reminds me a lot of a classic Maupassant tale, using a deceptively simple object (or "McGuffin" as Hitchcock would say) almost as a ruse to snare the audience into a much deeper story. That's all I'll say about the plot, except that this is loosely a love story but with many complications and unexpected emotional conflicts that can hardly be described in a 500 word review so I won't even try. This is no simple girl-meets-boy story. It plays out like a Tolstoy epic.

For the last part of my review, I need to tie up & gag my inner film nerd because this is the kind of film that cinephiles will jabber on endlessly about. But it's not so artsy & esoteric that it would exclude casual movie audiences. Unlike classics such as "Citizen Kane" which often require you to watch documentaries, deep investigations & commentaries by film aficianados before you truly grasp its majesty, "Madame de" instantly hits us with gorgeous, memorable images and camera work that makes us realize we're in classy film territory. For example, pay attention to how active the camera is, effortlessly flowing around the actors, objects and scenery, showing us so many things that are happening at once. And yet there are no jarring edits and cuts to different cameras and angles; so much is done with just 1 camera. In this way, director Max Ophüls draws us into the drama as if we are silent observers sitting, or some cases dancing, in the same room. The sets are enormous and lavish, often with mirrors and windows showing us what's happening in other rooms, even though our attention is firmly focused on the principal drama in front of our eyes. My inner film nerd is frothing at the mouth so I'll just leave it there.

"Madame de..." is an amazing experience that shouldn't be missed by anyone. If you're new to classic art cinema, this would be a great place to start. Definitely check this out if you are a filmmaker, artist, writer, or if you're involved in any sort of entertainment, creative pursuits or performance (this film is so much like a choreographed dance--with the camera being the main dancer). This film is like a masterclass in everything.

So just watch it already. Hurry up, I'm about to untie my inner film nerd, and then you'll never hear the end of it.

Call me a pessimist, but the ending of Madame De doesn't spell too much in the way of happiness for any of the characters, even if what one might think as the worst possible scenario didn't happen. Max Ophuls, with his brilliant film The Earrings of Madame De, doesn't allow the usual catharsis that one might expect from a romantic drama of this sort, where infidelity is merely implied and the veneer of early 20th century bourgeois is a cover for a feelings that rarely get in view. Instead, as with the rest of the film, we're given something of a wonderful contradiction, where something is compelling and graceful, but in a sort of dark way too. The doomed love of the film is one where the simple act of admitting love is a tough thing to do, and at the same time this doom is contrasted by a very swift, effortlessly moving camera, which goes around its characters trying to get us completely immersed in this world while feeling at the same time something isn't quite right. Why shouldn't Louise get what she really would want? Well, then the movie would be over pretty quickly.

Madame de… is a beautiful movie about love, happiness and social constraints. Well, these scattered words don't account for all Madame de… is. Louise de... don't really need a deep analysis. She has a social tenure, a light and resigned posture and the camera loves to follow her. I'd say the camera work in Madame de… accounts for more than the 2/3 of the result. The rest lies with the acting. Needless to say this could have been a silent movie, with high-brow titles yet.

I think Kubrick must have appreciated this movie, for the camera work -ok, but also for the fight of life and intelligence. Love and happiness are life; intelligence has nothing to do with these. But it can help to fill the holes. You don't chose the parts of love, happiness or intelligence. That's only the way real life goes; movies are just more or less intelligent pictures.

Now I understand why the movie critics love Madame de... They love to feel they are intelligent. There are good reasons to love this film: simply put it's about a love story and human intercourse. As for me intelligence shows up a little too often. I don't love you, Madame de…



Personal recommendation: if you liked this one try the more modern Raphaël ou le débauché (1971)

As the earrings of the wife of a rich General circulate from hand to hand but always find a way back to her, it may seem like a silly plot device, and perhaps it is. However, it is interesting to watch Danielle Darrieux (the wife) lie to Charles Boyer (her husband) about how she's lost and then later found these earrings, which were a wedding present, and eventually to Vittorio De Sica (her lover) as well, without realizing that in each instance these men know they're being lied to. The restraint shown in their facial reactions is fantastic. All three turn in subtle and nuanced performances, and the movie as a whole captures the grace of the 19th century with several ballroom scenes. Director Max Ophüls shows restraint as well, as the progress of the affair is shown during commentary and the pair dancing over many late evenings. This is a good film to be sure, but I don't think it lives up to its reputation, which has grown over the years. The passion is a bit too far beneath the surface for my taste, and the plot reminds one of 19th century fiction, which had a tendency to be over-constructed.

There is little of praise I can add to what others have said. I would like to address the comments of those who don't like the film because they find Louise unworthy of their admiration or sympathy. (There are two threads on the board that raise the same objection, and one quotes a review that calls her a "dick.")

Do you feel sympathy for Humbert Humbert? Or for Emma Bovary? Or for Anna Karenina? Or for the Vicomte de Valmont?

People are certainly free not to like the directing style of Max Ophuls or the performance styles of his actors. But in the negative reactions to this film, and especially to the character of Louise, I detect a strong whiff of anachronistic response, and an inability to see the film in the context of its time and place, not to mention the characters in the context of their society. It also seems to me that many people have a sort of high school notion that you have to find a character admirable in order to feel sorry for her. Or, for that matter, that you have to feel sympathy for a character in order to be moved by her story.

The irony of "Madame de. . ." is that it turns out that the character with the deepest and most constant emotions is the General, who has concealed the depth of his feelings for Louise because it is not the fashion to be in love with one's own wife. He follows the rules; he has mistresses; he doesn't mind Louise's lovers too much as long she too follows the rules. He can't handle it when she strays outside the lines, and it is HIS behavior, not hers, that finally ruins them all.

The art of "Madame de..." is that the lush setting and sense of a society that lives on ersatz emotion prepares us to be caught up in the ecstasy of Louise's immolation as the emotions become real. That doesn't mean that the Baron is really the Romeo to her Juliet, or that (artistically speaking) he needs to be. In her review of "The Story of Adèle H.," Pauline Kael comments on what a pathetically inadequate object of obsession Lt. Pinson constitutes. Indeed, late in the film, when Adèle passes him on the street, she doesn't even notice him. The Baron is also a rather bland love object, and it is true that we have little sense of how far their affair has progressed, or if he would even want Louise to leave her husband for him. (That is not, after all, how the game is played.) In the Garbo "Camille," Robert Taylor's Armand is utterly unworthy of her, and I've never seen a version of "Anna Karenina" where the Vronsky seemed worth ruining oneself over--or who, for that matter, really seemed to WANT Anna to leave her husband for him.

Louise's tragedy is that her understanding of the game, of which she is a typically petty and only somewhat skilled player (she has, after all, already skirted the edge of ruin by falling deeply into debt), does not prepare her for actual love. Once there she tries to behave well, but events spiral out of the control of all the characters once they are outside of the predictable game. We don't even have to see a redemption in the completeness with which she gives herself up to her love, or her making herself ill over it; her behavior is by and large selfish and unconcerned with the feelings of anyone other than herself. If not a redemption she does have a kind of saving grace: she doesn't ask for pity or understanding (although she does ask for forgiveness), and she does achieve a kind of understanding of herself when she admits near the end that she is hopelessly vain.

What makes "Madame de. . ." a great film, though, is how we see the General, Louise, and even the bland Baron become human as they step outside the rules of the game, and the way in which the art of Ophuls prepares us for the exaltation of Louise's destruction. You don't have to pity her to be moved by the emotion of it. You may even find a dreadful comedy in it, as one does with Humbert. Humbert knows how unworthy he is as a figure of tragedy; Valmont realizes with a bitter sense of irony that he has destroyed himself with his own clever pettiness. Louise lacks those levels of insight, as well as their degree of villainy, but her lack of credentials to be a great heroine is itself moving. At the end, when she finally destroys herself, it seems to be, at last, in her first more-or-less-selfless gesture-- ambiguous, though, as everything in Ophuls is.

Perhaps Renoir (the allusion to him above being deliberate) could have made these characters more sympathetic, or made us feel more tenderness for unsympathetic characters. (Renoir could make us feel tenderness for a rock.) But Ophuls is not as purely focused on the human heart as Renoir; he always sees the absurd social animal, as well. I think it is more appropriate with Ophuls to have that distancing, as we have when we read "Madame Bovary."

I've watched many old movies lately and i am so satisfied that i have a hard time watching modern ones, sort to speak. This one is definitely the worst. It started well, something like an offbeat comedy, humorous and lighthearted. It was not realistic but i didn't mind it. Many old movies are not convincing and require a suspension of disbelief, i am ok with it. Not a great movie but entertaining. As it progressed, it became more dramatic and the comedy element was diminishing. But that was not the problem. The problem was the unlikability of the main character. Were the viewers supposed to root for Madame de something? At first, i like her but gradually, i ended up hating her. Her behavior, her mannerisms, she was so pretentious and brat that she became the villain in my eyes. Basically i hated all of them and i was hoping for Maximilien Robespierre to make an appearance and send them all to guillotine :)

It worked as a comedy. As a drama, it was awkward and fake and pretentious. Best aspects here were Boyer's acting and Ophuls directing. There are some beautiful scenes here.