 |
| Claude
Laydu, Léon Arvel, Antoine Balpêtré, Jean Danet, Jeanne
Etiévant |
|
 |
Anamorphic
widescreen |
|
Dolby Digital
5.1 |
|
DTS |
|
 |
Trailer(s) |
|
Featurette(s) |
|
Documentary |
|
Audio commentary
|
|
Deleted scenes
|
|
Concept art
/ storyboards |
|
Multi-angle
feature |
|
|
|
|
Curé d'Ambricourt (Claude
Laydu): Our hidden sins poison the air that others breathe.
A young sick priest arrives in his
first parish, a village in the North of France, but is ostracized
by the community.
 I
well remember the first time I saw Robert Bresson's highly acclaimed
cinematic masterpiece. I was in my second year of film school,
and classes on Friday mornings were always followed by screenings
of classic films in one of the biggest on-screen auditoriums. On
this particular Friday, I had excitedly invited a friend of mine
along to the screening, as the film on the schedule was Buster
Keaton's The
General, and we were both in the mood for some high-spirited
physical comedy after a long week of studying postmodern film theory.
Bus as was often the case, there had been a change in the schedule,
and the film that was screened on that Friday turned out to be
something close to the antithesis of that masterpiece of silent
comedy.
About half the students in the auditorium stood up and walked out
as soon as the announcement was made, but since Diary of
a Country Pries was also a milestone in cinema history that
we hadn't yet seen, we decided to remain seated and give it a shot.
What followed were two of the longest hours of my life, as the
slow suffering of the poor young priest unspooled at a snail's
pace before our eyes. Given our state of mind, the tragic narrative
failed to make much of an impact on us, nor did the celebrated
cinematography (projected from a blurry VHS tape via a video beamer)
strike us as particularly memorable. Suggestions like 'Go to a
doctor already' and 'Move to another village' came to mind throughout,
and were even uttered on occasion as the film dragged on. But doggedly
(if misguidedly) determined to sit the film out, we were two of
the few viewers who stayed until the end, and had a good laugh
afterwards, confidently labeling this film the epitome of overrated,
pretentious cinéma du boring.
Revisiting the film for the first time since that memorable afternoon
more than a decade ago, the experience is of course completely
the opposite. Not so much a matter as being old enough to appreciate
it as it is of approaching the film in the appropriate state of
mind and the right viewing circumstances, Diary of a Country
Priest is an almost unbearably pure, uncluttered vision of
hope clashing with existential despair. The impeccably framed,
gorgeously shot film has a hypnotic pull over the viewer as it
follows its protagonist's doomed attempts to reach out to his unhospitable
parishioners. A film both unique and highly influential, it's a
picture that can hardly be recommended highly enough (although
I would caution those intending to watch in an overly jocular mood). |
|
 |
 |
|
|
Available only as a Region 1
release from the Criterion Collection.
The fullscreen
image is framed at its original aspect ratio of approx. 1.33:1. The
print has clearly suffered over the years, as can be seen
throughout in the vertical lines that appear along the sides
of the frame, as well as from occasional scratches that show
up incidentally. But the image is very sharp, with excellent,
consistent grayscale and contrast, allowing the cinematography
to shine more clearly than it ever did on videocassette.
The original mono sound mix is presented in Dolby Digital
1.0, and is rather low on fidelity but certainly up to the
task of presenting this deceptively simple soundtrack.
The only major extra on this
long-awaited Bressonian masterpiece is an audio commentary track
by film historian Peter Cowie, and for once, a Criterion
commentary is something of a mixed bag. Cowie spends much
of his time discussing differences between the film and the
novel it was based on, which can be illuminating but often
digresses into the recounting of interminable episodes from
the book. Cowie also has an annoying tendency to draw upon
his own experiences with vicars, making him sound not only
dull but also unbearably pompous. He's an experienced speaker
and well versed in Bressonian lore, so the track is hardly
a waste of time. But it doesn't quite live up to the high
standards we've come to expect from the Criterion Collection's
scholarly commentary tracks. The theatrical trailer is
also on-board, and a rather obtuse essay, reprinted from
an issue of Film Comment, is to be found in the booklet. Ethereal
animated menu screens live up to the high standards usually upheld
by Criterion DVD releases.
Dan
Hassler-Forest
Reviewed:
May 3, 2003
Click
here for IMDB info on Diary
of a Country Priest.
Click here
to return to the front page.
|
|
| |
