There are a few great
films (for example Last Year in Marienbad, Letter from an Unknown
Woman, Mirror) which explore the subject of memory, as distinct
from simply using the flashback technique to portray what a character is
recalling. To this select list must now be added Time Regained (Le
Temps Retrouve), by prolific Chilean director, Raoul Ruiz, a loose
158-minute adaptation of the final volume of Marcel Proust's vast semi-autobiographical
novel Remembrance of Things Past.
A word of warning if you
know nothing of the novel you will find the film ravishing to look at but
utterly confusing. Innumerable characters drift in and out of lavishly
decorated Parisian salons, linked only by the narrator Marcel who casts
a faintly amused eye over the proceedings.
For the uninitiated: the
book tells how the author/narrator Marcel, after experiencing many years
of life, love, and changes in Parisian society, comes to realise that his
life's mission is to set It all down in a book, the very one we have been
reading. (This self-reflexivity is similar to that of Fellini's 8 1/2,
which ends with the director deciding to make the film we have just been
watching. ) One of the book's many themes is that of memory, in particular
the way long-forgotten events in our lives can be triggered by sights,
smells, or tastes (the famous episode of the petit madeleine cake). This
is related to the ideas of the French philosopher Bergson. who argued that
time should not and cannot be measured scientifically.
Proustian films have a
limited history, in keeping with the generally-held view that the book
is unfilmable. Around 1970 Harold Pinter wrote a screenplay, which appeared
only in printed form, although the Italian director Visconti toyed with
the idea of filming it. Two German directors tackled the subject obliquely
in the 1980s: Percy Adlon's Celeste was based on the reminiscences
of Proust's last days by his housekeeper, while Victor Schlondorff’s, Swann
in Love was a partially successful attempt at filming a self-contained
200-page section of the novel.
As indicated above, Ruiz
has avoided the trap of attempting a direct transposition of the Time Regained
volume of the novel. The film begins in 1922, with the dying Proust struggling
to finish his novel before his time runs out, the rest of the film being
a kind of stream-of-consciousness succession of memories from his life
(or from the novel: the two are virtually interchangeable).
Many of the book’s themes
remain in the film: the pretensions of social climbers, the effects of
World War I on society, homosexuality, or what Proust referred to as ‘inversion’
(in the person of the Baron du Charlus), the power of early childhood memories,
the ravages of time on once-beautiful people. Inevitably other themes are
excluded, such as the effect of the Dreyfus affair on French life. Several
major characters in the book (Swann, Albertine) make only fleeting appearances.
This doesn’t matter, the film has no ‘plot’, it is simply a succession
of memories.
I have referred to the
film as ‘ravishing‘; it is certainly sumptuous in the extreme, making Martin
Scorsese's The Age of Innocence for example, look like a kitchen-sink
drama. I cannot fault the performances. Marcel is Vincent Perez, with a
somewhat detached look as if he is soaking up everything he experiences
to use in his novel. Top billing, although with lesser roles, is given
to Catherine Deneuve and Emmanuelle Beart, who do all that can be expected
of them; I feel increasingly that Beart will one day take over Deneuve's
role as the queen of French cinema. John Malkovitch plays Charlus, his
slow speech and foreign-sounding accent (to French ears) conveying something
of the sinister strangeness of the character. Ruiz’s roving camera, circling
slowly around the salons and other locations catches the mood of the ever-roving
memory of the dying Marcel.
What of the director himself!
It is said that he has lost count of the number of films he has made, although
hardly any have been released in the U .K. (in common with at least two
other directors of interest to me, Zanussi and de Oliveira). His earlier
films are said to be rather like intellectual puzzles, so Time Regained
would seem to be something of a departure.
One final complaint: I
cannot understand the ‘18’ certificate which the British censors have given
the film. Admittedly one lengthy scene takes place in a homosexual brothel,
but there is nothing particularly explicit, whether visual or verbal. Plenty
of ‘15’ certificate films are far more objectionable on such grounds.
So, whether you’ve read
Remembrance
of Things Past or would like a flavour of it without doing so I Strongly
recommend Ruiz's film.
Alan
Pavelin