Thérèse Desqueyroux

Dir: Claude Miller

2012

****

Claude Miller’s final film, Thérèse Desqueyroux, is a fitting film to depart on. Critics have been comparing Miller’s work to that of his mentors François Truffaut, Robert Bresson and Jean-Luc Godard for years but Thérèse Desqueyroux is his and only his. Adapted from François Mauriac’s famous 1927 novel, which itself was inspired by the Henriette Canaby attempted murder case of 1906, the film has a freshness about it that isn’t typical of the genre but gives the overall production a feeling of heightened authenticity. Set in the south-west of France, in the late 1920s, Thérèse Laroque agrees to a marriage of convenience between wealthy families by marrying Bernard Desqueyroux, a bourgeois landowner. They then settle on his family's property, located in a vast area stretching over acres of pine forests. Bernard is a local man with a passion for hunting and defending with conviction the family traditions. However, Thérèse is quickly stifled by the monotony of her married life. She gives birth to a daughter whom they name Marie, but her boredom seems to grow every day. In her own words, she is looking "somewhere else". Bernard suffers from an unspecified condition for which he is prescribed arsenic. Thérèse takes the opportunity to attempt to poison her husband, but in forging a prescription, she is discovered. In addition to being dishonored by her own family, she is disowned by her husband's. She faces justice for the alleged murder attempt until her husband and in-laws, who intend to keep up appearances within their provincial society, make up their own version of what happened. The case is dismissed and Therese is confined to the house. Eventually, after many years, she is allowed to leave and live in Paris on the understanding that she will only return for weddings and funerals. The film is a faithful adaptation but there are differences in the narrative. The book is characterised by some unusual structural devices, including a long internal monologue which often switches perspective, revealing the thoughts of several characters but this is sensibly removed within the film. The vast majority of characters in the book are seen as quite unpleasant people; Thérèse's father is revealed to be a callous sexist more concerned with protecting his political career than looking after his daughter, while Bernard himself is portrayed as an emotionally unavailable man obsessed solely with hunting and serving the needs of the family. However, in the film there are glimmers of kindness and the characters feel far more forgiving than in the novel. As in much of Mauriac's work, physical imperfection signifies moral destitution and most characters have some sort of flaw – phrases such as "hard black nails", "short bow legs" and "fat little Hippolitus" all describe various male characters, just within the first few chapters but again, the film is far more forgiving. In the novel Thérèse is proud of her intelligence and self-perceived wisdom, as she is in the film, but the unrequited crush she has on former childhood friend and sister-in-law Anne isn’t as obvious in the film. It’s a shame really, as these tones are said to match Mauriac's own struggles with sexuality, so they really should have been respected but I also see why they would be toned down/removed. Mauriac once commented back in the early 50s that is novel used some devices that came from the silent films, such as a lack of preparation, the sudden opening, flashbacks. They were methods that were new and surprising at that time but of course wouldn't work in modern film. It is interesting though how a book would copy an old film and be copied, many years later by a film. Miller’s direction is faultless and the performances and chemistry between Audrey Tautou as Thérèse Desqueyroux and Gilles Lellouche as Bernard Desqueyroux is perfect. Tautou’s performances are always good but I’m glad Lellouche was given the right amount of space to develop his contrasting character. When a film is about one persons unhappiness then you have to give the source of that unhappiness just as much attention as the person themselves. While the film is ever so slightly slow in places, it absolutely drips class and just the right amount of pause. It’s a fitting tribute to the source novel and a great film to end a career on.