Rodin: The Sculptor of Balzac and the Lover of Claudel

Here in New York, both the Met and the MoMA have casts of Auguste Rodin’s Monument to Balzac. It must be among the few common pieces held in both collections, but it makes sense both museums would want it. It is commonly referred to as the first truly modern sculpture, but the contemporary reaction was far less laudatory. The evolution of the iconic work becomes the central narrative line of Jacques Doillon’s Rodin (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

In 1880, Rodin is already recognized in many quarters as a master, but not by French society universally. Life is not bad. He has received a game-changing commission in The Gates of Hell and his relationship with his protégé-lover Camille Claudel has not turned completely toxic yet. Unfortunately, that will change in a few short years. Rodin will also receive the Balzac commission that will inspire and frustrate him for years to come.

Claudel has been the subject of two previous films, Bruno Nuytten’s 1986 Camille Claudel, starring Isabelle Adjani and Bruno Dumont’s Camille Claudel,1915, starring Juliette Binoche, so it is time Rodin got some equal time. Although Vincent Lindon hardly portrays him as a saint, Doillon’s screenplay clearly suggests Claudel was severely emotionally disturbed and Rodin went to considerable lengths to support her. Meanwhile, the philistines kept hounding him for a conventionally idolized statue of Balzac.

Lindon is quite forceful as Rodin, nicely conveying both his rough-hewn working-class roots and his artistic sensibilities (for lack of a better term). Initially, he looks rather craggy for a forty-year-old, but people aged quicker in the 19th Century. He also develops some rather complicated but surprisingly warm chemistry with Séverine Caneele as his rustic common law wife, Rose Beuret. Contemporary critics might find her simple devotion troubling, but it is historically accurate (and again, the 19^th Century was an entirely different era, especially for a middle-aged woman with limited resources). Likewise, Claudel gets no PR favors from Doillon’s treatment. Izïa Higelin is an underwhelming screen presence opposite Lindon—and inevitable comparisons to Adjani and Binoche will not do her any favors either.

There are some beautiful moments in Rodin, such as his lunch with his Modernist colleagues, in which he bucks up the spirits of a dejected Cézanne, briefly but memorably played by Arthur Nauzyciel. However, there is no getting around the stately slowness of Doillon’s pacing. If you want to soak up the details of Rodin’s meticulously recreated studio than this film will be your heart’s desire, but if you want brisk scandal, go back to Nuytten. (Also, at the risk of sounding like a goody-two-shoes, there is a ridiculously gratuitous sex scene, but perhaps it helps maintain Doillon’s provocative reputation.)

Regardless, Doillon’s Rodin will give most viewers a greater appreciation of the vision and sweat equity that went into the artist’s remarkable body of work, which cinematographer Christophe Beaucarne often frames in suitably dramatic ways. Recommended for serious admirers of the artist and lead actor, Rodin opens this Friday (6/1) in New York, at the Quad Cinema.

Dumont’s Camille Claudel 1915

Camille Claudel is a woman of extraordinary associations.  She was the sister of playwright Paul Claudel, the mistress of Auguste Rodin, and was once erroneously thought to be the lover of Claude Debussy.  In the cinema, she has been played by Isabelle Adjani and now Juliette Binoche, but in reality, she led a deeply troubled life.  Bruno Dumont picks up with Claudel two years after her family institutionalized the sculptor, dramatizing three anesthetizing days leading up to her brother’s visit in Camille Claudel 1915 (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

Her brother blames the artistic temperament and perhaps he is right.  Regardless, his sister clearly suffers from paranoia and a persecution complex.  Unfortunately, her commitment rather vindicates the latter.  Since she is convinced her food is constantly poisoned by her multitude of enemies, Claudel has special dispensation to cook her own meals.  Given her mostly calm demeanor, the sisters give her relatively free reign at Ville Evrard and even recruit her reluctant help with more quarrelsome patients. Nevertheless, if you ask her about her situation you will get an earful.

1915 is easily Dumont’s most accessible film in years, but it still bears the hallmarks of his aesthetic severity.  If you hum a few bars of anything during the film, you will become the soundtrack.  Color is also rather scarce.  However, there are plenty of static shots framing Claudel as her spirit slowly ebbs away.

Having previously invited sympathy for the Devil with Hors Satan and suggested all devout Christians are a wink and a nod away from becoming Islamist suicide bombers in Hadewijch, Dumont will not surprise anyone with his unforgiving view of Paul Claudel, the devout Catholic dramatist. He sharply contrasts the ascetic austerity of the writer with the more sensual feeling of the sister.  Yet, given his affinity for extremity, the rigidly disciplined Claudel ought to be more in his wheel house.

Jean-Luc Vincent duly plays Frere Paul as the cold, clammy caricature Dumont requires.  It hardly matters. He is a distant second fiddle to Binoche’s title character—a role perfectly suited to her strengths.  Nobody could better convey the roiling passions submerged beneath her glacial exterior or convincingly erupt in pained outrage when provoked.  She is a force to be reckoned with, nearly undermining Dumont’s feminist-victimization narrative. Somehow thanks to Dumont’s powers of persuasion, 1915 was filmed with real nursing home patients playing Claudel’s fellow residents and their nurses playing the nuns, adding further dimensions of authenticity and exploitation into the mix.

Ironically, it is the work of Paul Claudel that is most ripe for re-discovery (as the Black Friars Repertory demonstrated in New York with their Claudel revival project), whereas reproductions of the sculptor’s La Valse are widely available.  Regardless, Binoche delivers a remarkable performance in an otherwise flawed film.  Best reserved for her loyal admirers and hardcore French art cinema enthusiasts, Camille Claudel 1915 opens this Wednesday (10/16) at Film Forum for all of New York.