La douceur du village

One day back in 1962, documentary filmmaker François Reichenbach was traveling from Normandy to Paris when he saw a sign reading "Loué: 4km". He went to this place (a small town of 1,800 people or should we say a big village?), had a good meal there and decided to spend the night at a local hotel. The next morning, when he looked out of his bedroom window at the village square, he was astonished by the activity prevailing there. Under his eyes, a military march past in one corner, a gathering of cows in another as well as several other mini-events were in progress. Fascinated by this unexpected sight, Reichenbach decided to stay in Loué, and not go back to Paris. He actually spent most of the following year in Loué, filming the events (or non-events) punctuating the everyday life in this small town (or should we say big village?) situated in the middle of the countryside. In what was to become "La douceur du village", his camera fixed for all Eternity the rehearsal of the town's brass band, the wedding of the mayor's daughter, a funeral, an agricultural show, children attending an elementary school class, the draft board examination, and so on. But, although relevant as an ethnographic document, the filming of such trivial activities might well lack dramatic power. Fortunately aware of the problem, Reichenbach found a suitable solution : to supplement the images with an offbeat commentary. To be true, commentary is not the right word, it consists rather in a long monologue delivered by a late career schoolmaster. Moreover, this speech is not in direct relation with what is shown on the screen but takes the form sixteen lessons of general science, whose subjects range from "the Poppy" to "Progress", from "the Cow "to "Marriage", and the like. Expressed in a peremptory, self-satisfied, pontificating tone, these "lessons" purport that there is a role each human being is bound to play in (a rigid) society, at each age and for each sex. In a lifetime men or women have no other choice but to be born, to work hard (at manual jobs only), to do their military service (reference is made to the two World Wars but none to the Algerian War!), to marry (no other sex life considered than heterosexuality), to be a faithful and supportive wife, to have kids... before dying a natural death (according to the master, no blood crime has ever been committed in Loué!) Thanks to such a device, Reichenbach manages to bring additional depth to his film by giving more scope to what could have been a mere report. Through the schoolmaster's conservative speech, he puts the people shown on the screen into a broader sociological and ideological context. At the same time, this conventional peroration sounds so incongruous, simplistic and outdated (it was already outmoded back in the early 60s!) that it automatically creates laughter, humor being an unexpected but welcome added value. The trouble though is that, in the long run, this omnipresent lecture winds up being monotonous and boring, not to say a bit annoying. The film runs 47 minutes and at the end of half an hour, it becomes hard to bear. Reichenbach seems to have forgotten the rule according to which boredom was once born from uniformity. He should either have cut about a quarter of an hour or else instilled some variety into the soundtrack. Another small defect inherent in having the schoolmaster's voice accompanying the whole film is that it creates a mocking distance, itself implying a certain condescension from the intellectual Parisian director. Not everybody will agree with those two criticisms, the most obvious evidence of it being that "La douceur du village" was awarded the Best Short Film Award at the 1964 Cannes Film Festival. But whether or not you blame him for the two shortcomings mentioned above, François Reichenbach must be credited for giving life to this interesting (and overall entertaining) sociological document, which doubtless constitutes a landmark in in the filmed history of our country.