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The son of the famous Impressionist painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Jean Renoir became a film director somewhat by chance. He and his new wife, Andrée Heusching, went to the movies so much that they decided to make her a star in the manner of Lillian Gish. Andrée changed her name to the "more cinematic" Catherine Hessling and in 1924 they shot their first two films, Catherine and La Fille d'eau, made with friends and amateurish in execution. Nine of Renoir's first seven films were made with Catherine. One of these, La Petite Marchande d’alumettes, received good reviews, although it was not until the advent of sound that Renoir’s career took off. Among his technical innovations, the use of location sound is one of Renoir’s most enduring. This coffee-table-sized book about Renoir—which is lovingly designed and produced and a work of art itself—has photographs from all the early silent films and from every other film that Renoir made, including a couple that are now lost or went unfinished. The plates come in all sizes from half-page to full-page to two page spreads, to 2x3s, and even smaller. The photos are drawn from publicity stills, production shots, and images taken directly from the films. These selections create a nice contrast in showing the power of the film images with how they were produced/shot. The plates are beautifully rendered on a substantial chrome matte paper that allows them to be viewed in a near-print finish. The blacks have pop, the grey-scale is tonally subtle, and the whites are white. The text is printed in a very readable size in a Times or Times variant, with some pages printed white on black, a design element that adds to the richness of the book as art. There are also colour images from Renoir's later films and three of his father's paintings of Jean as a baby, a boy, and a young man (the latter, Le Chasseur in the L.A. County Museum of Art). The text, written by Christopher Faulkner in plain, concise prose, is in balance with the images. It includes useful narrative summaries of the films, insightful comments on some images, and a running, chronological narrative of Renoir's life that includes some information on his personal life without being tabloidesque. To estimate Renoir is to face the reality that his films of the 1930s—particularly La Grand Illusion (1937) and La Règle du Jeu (1939), but Boudu sauvé des eaux, La Nuit du carrefour, Le Crime de Monsieur Lange, La Bête Humaine, La Chienne and La Vie est `a nous as well—are his great triumphs. La Règle du Jeu consistently turns up on lists of the ten greatest films ever. La Grand Illusion consistently turns up as one of the handful of the greatest anti-war films ever. These two flicks demonstrate Renoir's warmth, his humanity, his social concerns, his wit, the cunning with which he mixes comedy and tragedy, his ability to create great characters at various class levels, and, not least, his dexterity with a camera. It’s worth noting that in the history of artistic advances in film that Renoir shot deep focus images with many different loci of interest in one frame before Welles and Citizen Kane (q.v., La Règle du jeu). The Nouvelle Vague directors, Truffaut especially, championed Renoir as their father for his technical audacity, his realism, and his fluid location shooting. When the Nazis invaded France in 1939, Renoir, who had identified with socialist and other left-wing politics (La Vie est à nous was made with money provided by Le Parti Communiste Français), had to flee France. Like many from the European film colony, he wound up in Hollywood, the home of his boyhood heroes Chaplin and Griffiths. Alas, the studio system now ruled and all Renoir could get to direct were commonplace studio projects, none of which, perhaps excepting The Southerner and The Diary of a Chambermaid (with Paulette Godard), bear watching. He was also saddled with the boring establishing/medium/two-shot/close-up Hollywood shooting formula. Yet even The River, and the films he made after returning to France, such as Elena et les hommes, French Cancan, and Le Caporal Épinglé cannot equal his films of the 1930s. Nonetheless, this book is a tribute to the man and all his work. It's easily worth the price of admission. In addition to the plates, the film chronology reprints some of the original posters: a nice touch. Finally, word of caution: Wash your hands dutifully every time you pour through this book—which will be often—or else wear white, print-handling gloves. If you don't, you will, as I learned the hard way, leave smeared oil marks from your fingers on the deep blacks of the pages and the plates. This review of Jean Renoir: A Conversation with His Films 1894-1979 also appears at http://feministreview.blogspot.com/. |