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Surely one of the best films of the decade, JEANNE LA PUCELLE was a triumph for Rivette and for his star, Sandrine Bonnaire. Meticulously researched and rendered, the film traverses the familiar facts of Joan of Arc's life: her calling from God to save France from the English and have the Dauphin crowned king; her military triumphs; her capture, trial, and burning. But Rivette's approach is expectedly singular: “The two great intimidating films about Joan of Arc, by Dreyer and Bresson are purely poetic,” he said, “whereas I was aiming for a more narrative approach - though I hope there are poetic moments.” Spare without being austere, Rivette's film is both abstract and matter-of-fact. (The Dauphin's coronation is a notable exception to the prevailing abstinence: a sumptuous spectacle of frippery and finery to make even the most jaded fop faint.) Similarly, Rivette and Bonnaire conspire to give us a new Joan: a young woman with a child's simple determination, more unworldly than innocent, by turns stern, puritanical, and girlishly gay. As convincing as this portrait is, it is also strikingly modern. (Dressed in charcoal doublet, hands on hips, Bonnaire looks more Issey Miyake than Maid of Orleans.) Among the many pleasures of the film are Jordi Savall's music score, the precise sense of time (including the disorienting ellipsis of the missing trial), the masterly composition of interior space (reminiscent of LA RELIGIEUSE), and the use of direct address and natural sound. “One of the great films of the last century” (Glen Kenny).
Special ticket prices apply.
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