Mouchette

The ethical and aesthetic credo of Robert Bresson has always struck me as too severe, except when it is sublime. His view of life as a prison transcends itself in two austere masterpieces, A Man Escaped (certainly among my own top 25 films of all time) and The Trial of Joan of Arc, where the imprisonment is literal. There are only metaphorical or metaphysical bars around the Country Priest, the donkey Balthazar, or the peasant girl who is the title character of this film (endearingly, “Little Fly”). Such a careful filmmaker will often make memorable scenes, but overall his approach seems chilly and schematic. He has so little regard for screen acting that he refers to his nonprofessional players as models rather than actors. Bresson may be one of the great directors, but he is also a hazing ritual for a cult of critics -- if you aim to be serious about cinema, you are obliged to immerse yourself in his astringent output. So when the Criterion Collection recently released a pristine print, I had to watch poor Mouchette suffer her fate all over again, one blow after another in a heartless world, as much a beast of burden as Balthazar. And again the ending seemed abrupt and some points along the way unconvincing, so unless one clicks into a transcendental reverie, this Bressonian effort seems thin, starved of life (aside from the justly celebrated carnival scene where Mouchette gets to drive a Dodge ‘Em). On the same theme, I find the Dardennes brothers’ Rosetta more memorable. (1966,dvd, r.) *6+*