La Belle Noiseuse

Jacques Rivette – 1991 – France

Jacques Rivette was the most far-out of the big-five Nouvelle Vague filmmakers - yes, even more than Godard; (Godard at least made films with stars and merciful running times).  Rivette, lacking his American compatriot Andy Warhol’s irony and sense of humor, at times seemed hell-bent on alienating audiences with pretentious agitprop posing as fearless experimentation. This trait he certainly shared with Godard in the late 60s, culminating in the 729-minute extravaganza Out 1 (1971).  Maturity and distance from the 60s and cult of the New Wave did him good, though.  La Belle Noiseuse is a fine compromise between Rivette’s love of showing lots of stuff not happening and the most meager of elements that make a film watchable.  In this case those latter elements are quality acting and cinematography, a threadbare plot complete with a satisfying climax, and generous amounts of camera time allotted to an artist’s nude model.  Veteran actor Michel Piccoli plays an aging, cantankerous painter named Edouard Frenhofer, who is inspired to revive a project he once abandoned upon seeing young and vibrant Marianne (Emmanuelle Béart), who is coaxed into posing by her own boyfriend, a fellow artist and admirer of Frenhofer’s.  The film is often described as being about the artistic process - i.e. the painter’s struggle with muse and materials, and it is, but it is equally about the process of the non-artists; those who support or otherwise participate in the creation of the artist’s work. Frenhofer’s much younger wife (Jane Birkin) endures a variety of frustrations and indignities because she believes in her husband’s talent.  The characterization of Marianne by Béart, though, is what really makes the film exceptional, in my opinion.  She is fiercely opinionated, unimpressed with Frenhofer, and even resentful about her boyfriend committing her to this nudity-requiring job without consulting her first, and then having the nerve to be jealous later.  Though younger and not knowledgeable about art, she stands as a force of nature before the initially impotent Frenhofer.  It is only after some time and laborious work that she starts to become the painting’s true muse and patron, driving Frenhofer to be harder on himself and to avoid shortcuts and other weaknesses.  What Rivette captures subtly and beautifully well is the extent to which art is a way of wringing out the psyche’s dirty laundry; in this case, the eternal struggle of men to comprehend the mystery of femininity.  Despite exposing Marianne’s body and twisting it into the most unnatural contortions, Frenhofer is forever neurotic while Marianne herself is perpetually confident, dominant, earthy and serene, becoming almost a goddess to whom Frenhofer can only pay tribute by completing his painting. What is done with the painting is a surprise I won’t spoil, but its fate underscores the idea that a great work of art tells several stories at once; the tumult of its creation, the nuances known only to its creators, and the universal themes that the beholder will glean and which sometimes can be too personal for the artist to let be exposed.