For two new Friends in this Charming Rohmer Anthology of sorts, Paris Doesn’t Quite Belong to them.
DIRECTED BY ÉRIC ROHMER/FRENCH/1987
BLU-RAY STREET DATE: NOVEMBER 21, 2023/METROGRAPH FILM (via Kino Lorber)
Some upbeat tinkity-tink electronic music plays over the title graphics, a brightly colored display that evokes mid-‘80s MTV and whatnot. Perhaps not what one might expect going into an Éric Rohmer film, but this is what we’re greeted with as Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle (Quatre aventures de Reinette et Mirabelle) begins.
Quickly made and economical in aesthetic, Four Adventures plays out in four parts as follows: “L’Heure bleue” (“The Blue Hour”), “Le Garçon de café” (“The Waiter”), “Le Mendiant, la Kleptomane et l’Arnaqueuse” (“The Beggar, the Kleptomaniac and the Hustler”), and “La Vente du tableau” (“Selling the Painting”). Each follows newfound mismatched college coeds Reinette (Joëlle Miquel) and Mirabelle (Jessica Forde) as they navigate living together and interacting with the temperamental outside world in Paris.
The naive and outwardly innocent Reinette is a budding fine art painter, favoring fanciful images of nude women that could easily be described as “male gazy.” (Word is that these paintings are the work of Joëlle Miquel herself). Rural girl Reinette takes city belle Mirabelle up on her offer to share her apartment so that she may pursue her dream of studying painting in Paris. From there, the aforementioned four adventures play out. Each is a short film unto itself; none are bad.
Four Adventures is, first and foremost, a film of dichotomies. It’s been acutely called a variation on the old Aesop’s fable of “The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse.” Beyond that surface-level observation, however, lie further interesting dichotomies. One of which is the character of Reinette, who, when we (as well as Mirabelle) first meet her near her rural farm, projects an easygoing, even chipper demeanor. Even before we leave her home turf, we see that just beneath that veneer, she’s extremely prone to frustration when things don’t go just right. Reinette wants Mirabelle to experience the perfect country tranquility of the early-morning moment called “the blue hour.” In the dark of night, they venture into a field and wait for the magic moment. When it arrives, however, so too does noisy traffic. (Another dichotomy). Reinette’s ensuing tantrum is a harbinger of how she’ll handle the many curveballs of Paris life.
As for Mirabelle, her adventures (and therefore, her screen time) are fewer than Reinette’s. She does, however, serve as a regular springboard and eventual problem solver for Reinette’s run-ins. Whether it be a troublesome waiter (a funny Philippe Laudenbach), her own guilt complex, a beggar (The Aviator’s Wife’s Marie Rivière) in the public transportation station, or the art gallery where she takes her paintings, Mirabelle is always there for her. Eventually.
Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle (1987) is not a part of any broader series, of which Rohmer has several. Rather, it’s an anthology unto itself; one with a terrific matter-of-fact air about it. Neither of the main actresses had any previous film experience, though the Metrograph disc’s audio commentarian, writer Kristen Yoonsoo Kim, explains that the entire project was inspired by an epic visit to his office by Miquel. Apparently, she went on about “the blue hour” for three hours, simply because she recognized the phenomenon as something he’d appreciate. She was right.
Kristen Yoonsoo Kim also refers to Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle as top-tier work by Rohmer. Is it? It’s certainly quite engaging, and rather funny when it wants to be. My issue, if I want to call it that, is that Rohmer’s aesthetic in this phase of his career is so “as is”, it almost feels like anti-cinema. Closer examination, though, often reveals just how subtle the filmmaker is being in his choices, which are in fact very deliberate. This movie is no exception. The world of 1987 Paris appears alive and with it on this fine new Blu-ray edition. Yoonsoo Kim’s very good audio commentary is the disc’s only bonus feature aside from related trailers.
Rohmer films are known for their inherent chattiness, and this one is no exception. Typically, there’s also a common focus on amour. (See: Rohmer’s Tales of the Four Seasons series, recently made available in HD by Criterion). Mirabelle and Reinette are good friends, not lovers, though their demonstrated devotion to one another, even in frustration, signals a different kind of love. Opposites attract in Rohmer’s cinema, even if they’re only really good friends.