Ridicule (1996) DVD / a film by Patrice Leconte; starring Charles Berling, Jean Rochefort, Fanny Ardant & Judith Godreches

"The soul of wit is to no one's place."

"In this country, vice is of no consequence, but ridicule can kill."

In pre-Revolutionary France, Gregoire Poncedulon de Malavoy is a low-level magistrate whose province in the southwestern part of the country is being overrun with pestilence due to a malfunctioning drainage system. Malavoy, an engineer as well as a baron, thinks he can solve the problem but he'll need the permission and backing of the King (Louis XVI) to do so. Arriving at lavish Versailles, the young baron finds that rather than concerning themselves with more serious matters of running the country, the king and his consorts are perpetually engaged with le bel esprit--the art of wit. And while the atmosphere effects an air of frivolity, it is in fact the meanest, most malicious brand of discoursing and gamesmanship in which cutthroat wars of words (actual staged contests) routinely serve up the public humiliation and permanent disenfranchisement of anyone not up to par--no matter what their title or pedigree. More detailed issues of governance are relegated to slow-moving bureaucrats who, as Malavoy soon discovers, intentionally stall the process of bringing matters such as the baron's request before the king out of little more than careless indifference. Most of the people the baron speaks with about his little problem seem somewhat annoyed he even brings it up ("Poor people, they're not only dying, they're boring").
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Even just to get close to his majesty, Malavoy finds that he will have to employ his own rather clever but amateurish wordsmythe skills and develop a savage, scathing tongue of his own if he is to be admitted into the inner circle of the king's patronage. He seems to have no chance at all until he meets the clever, but discerning (and less vicious) Marquis de Bellegarde who coaches him up on the finer points of repartee. Before long Malavoy, owing to the marquis' advice but mostly to his own ability to effect biting insults in the direction of the most deserving members of the court, finds himself climbing the ladder toward a royal appointment. At the same time he finds the stakes of the game growing more and more dire as his own honor and character become entangled with the pernicious objectives of the other members of the court, most notably the lusty and calculating Madame de Blayac. A real snake in the grass but a woman who's in good with the king, Blayac has her own designs on Malavoy, even as his affections indelibly lie elsewhere, and has no reservations about tripping up the baron's plans.
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Ridicule is a film set in a time and place where all compliments are two-faced, every truth is dubious, wit carries the day and sincerity is detested. Of course it could be any time or place, our own for example. And while it's a film about language and rhetoric, very little is actually said. None of what the characters verbalize actually means much if anything because being casually clever is everything and straightforwardness is a sure path to rejection. The tongue is the real instrument of choice among the royal court, insults and ridicule the currency of the power brokers. In an odd way, it's upstarts like Malavoy who most intrigue, rustics from the provinces perceived as something of a novelty among the more well-bred cosmopolitans. Being acid-tongued carries a price of course, and not only within heat-of-the-moment verbal confrontations in which the next one-upism could make or break you. For the France of that time was powderkeg atmosphere in which the ever-increasing smugness of the royal court and aristocracy offset the growing restlessness of a powerless bourgeoise and hoards of suffering peasants, a particularly vital part of world history the film ever-so-slyly alludes to. (DVD RIDICULE)

Suite Française by Irène Némirovsky

(This book has been reviewed by Dan in January 2010, but I'd like to add my impression of the work.)
Ms. Némirovsky, of Russian Jewish descent, grew up in Russia, but her family fled Russia during the Revolution and finally settled in France when she was 16 years old. She became a successful writer, but met an untimely end when the French government under the Nazis deported her to Auschwitz, where she died at age thirty-nine. This book has two parts, which Ms. Némirovsky wrote in the last two years of her life, chronicling the German occupation of France during World War II. From her notes, it appears that this was to be a 5 part work. Her two daughters held the manuscript for 64 years, believing it to be a sort of diary. The story was only found when one of the sisters made arrangements to donate the pages to an organization collecting writings of holocaust victims.

The first part deals with the initial days of France’s defeat at the hands of Germany, and the rush of citizens out of Paris to escape the approaching army. The writer follows more than one family’s saga, ranging from a simple middle class couple to a wealthy writer with his mistress. Some behave badly, even brutally, while others are more magnanimous. The second part of the book takes place in an occupied French village. The upper middle classes, the gentry, the farmers and the middle class are portrayed in riveting detail. Ms. Némirovsky shows our weakness for self-aggrandizement, and what our instincts for survival could translate into when occupied by a foreign army. This book is celebrated for its incisive exploration into Vichy France, a part of French history that for years was kept under wraps because of its unsavory aspects.

However, it’s interesting that Ms. Némirovsky is such an enlightened narrator of class and custom, when she herself was a Jew of a particular stamp, asking the Vichy government to be exempt from Jewish restrictions. After her arrest, her husband notes particularly to the authorities how his wife never defended the Jewish race. Critics have noted anti-Semitic elements in her previous writing, and in Suite Française’s village, there are no Jews at all. Suite Française shows us a German army of blonde, ruddy youths, respectful to the village inhabitants, singing stirring anthems while drilling. The reason they are there, as conquerors, is not altogether clear. From this grounds-eye view, there are only the victors and the vanquished, and the side that you happen to be on seems to be grounded in circumstance, not by any choice of your own. One wonders if the writer would have retained this vision if she had come back alive from Auschwitz.

Suite Francaise / by Irene Nemirovsky

A Russian immigrant living in France at the time of World War II, Irène Némirovsky had fled the bolsheviks in her homeland only to be persecuted by another totalitarian regime when the Nazis invaded Paris. A Jew by birth, Nemirovsky and her husband were apprehended in 1942 and deported to Auschwitz where she died at 39. Her manuscript, written in barely readable script and largely unorganized within several notebooks, was preserved by her two surviving daughters where the uncompleted work gathered dust for 60 years. It wasn't until 2003 that Nemirovsky's notes were discovered compiled into a novel whereupon it quickly became a French sensation and international bestseller.

Némirovsky's original plan for her book consisted of five novella-sized stories intended to be organized into one volume. Only two were completed at the time of her capture. The first, "Storm in June," follows a gaggle of Parisians during the initial exodus from the German-occupied capital. The people, once residents now refugees in their own homeland, plod through the streets, across fields and further southward into the countryside in largely disorganized fashion. The once-proud nation is far from patriotic and anything but noble. Their slow migratory procession away from the metropolis is filled with constant bickering, quarrels and petty disputes arising from lives interrupted and revulsion at their country's swift, cowardly surrender. Social status meant little even as more aristocratic types persisted with their pretentious manners, always feeling entitled to preferential treatment, and often just downright mean and selfish.
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The second part describes a small village in 1940 where French girls, at a loss for other options, openly flirt with their German occupants who willingly reciprocate their affection. Though the situation incites fierce resentment among residents, little can be done it seems until a German officer is murdered, evidently done in by the patriotic indignation of one of the villagers. Certain the killer is a civilian harbored by the enemy, military police aggressively lay down the law, harshly infiltrating homes and individuals, exacting vicious tactics of coersion. The culminating outcome of the search which, in addition to rooting out the culprit, exposes several particularly passionate liasons between certain soldiers and mademoiselles, ultimately creating an inevitably paradoxical circumstance where war and love make strange bedfellows. Suite Francaise is a splendid "debut" novel by a genuinely gifted writer. Nemirovsky's first-hand account of a foreign occupation, written while it was taking place amid panic, confusion, chaos and conflict evokes an important and decidedly tumultuous time and place in history.

International Intrigue

A journalist for the BBC during WWII, Frederick Forsyth once tried to 'hop a ride' on a D-Day invasion craft. His adventurism coupled with experience as a global correspondent have helped firmly establish him at the pinnacle of the political thriller genre. Among his many popular works, Day of the Jackal (1971) and The Afghan (2007) are two of his most enthralling epics.

Day of the Jackal (1971)
Rebuff in France over the Algerian question reached its apex in 1962 when, in a move unpopular with many, President De Gaulle withdrew all French troops and granted sovereignty to the North African state. Among the outraged, members of the French OAS (Secret Army Organisations) were former soldiers and colonists who, feeling betrayed after sacrifices made on their country's behalf, decided retaliation was only too necessary. Between the summer of 1962 and spring 1963, a string of unsuccessful assassination attempts were made on De Gaulle’s life. With their ranks dwindling and their cause dying, one last option assuaged the OAS: hire an outside professional killer who, acting alone, would eliminate their target. Following an intense search, a meeting of the strictest confidence was held in Vienna where 3 OAS men and one stranger discussed details of the operation. The stranger--codename "The Jackal"--ultimately agreed to kill the French President for half a million dollars. Up until and beyond the pinned date, no OAS or allied partisan would see or hear from the Jackal accept through the designated middle-man. The OAS now had their last and best ‘shot’ to avenge their betrayal.

Even knowing De Gaulle died--peacefully in his sleep--in 1970 and that there was likely no such lone gunman plot (the other attempts were real enough), you can’t help but be caught up in the drama of this taut thriller. The Jackal's methodical preparations are as intriguing as the climax while the intelligence bureau's counter-operations only add to the appeal. Forsyth's steady, detached style may deter some with its lack of cliffhanger suspense. But his ability to create fascination out of one man's inconspicuous maneuvers has a way of overriding the desire for more action. The film version of this book came out in 1973 and stars Edward Fox as the Jackal. (FIC FORSYTH)
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The Afghan (2007)
Army Col. Mike Martin is well-acquainted with the Middle East. Since his time spent in Iraq as a boy up until his present life as a paratrooper, he’s become familiar with all aspects of the volatile region, even learning the language well enough to translate several remote dialects. But when the intelligence community desperately needs information on a major Al-Qaeda operation, even they know the hard truth: there’s no way to get what they need aside from personally infiltrating the enemy, an impossibility because no one (not even Martin) is capable of doing so.

Even the only conceivable option, an Afghani political prisoner in quarantine, is a non-option. Izmat Khan is a former Taliban commander who even now, after 5 years of interrogation at Guantanamo, remains a staunch fundamentalist ally of Al-Qaeda. Yet a twist of fate many years earlier helped make Khan and Martin loyal friends. Is it even possible? Could Martin’s shared knowledge and intimacy with Khan allow Martin—disguised as Khan—to ‘become an enemy’ among the enemy?

Forsyth writes with such incomparable authority and structure that little room is left for fault-finding. The Afghan could almost pass as a geography textbook, so remarkable is the detail, and yet the story's intriguing enough captivate any politically naïve reader. The action, as with other Forsyth classics, is less personal--war casualties described like a newscast. But it’s the broader picture that’s indirectly intended, fate and conflict viewed at a global scale. With its distinctly middle-eastern attributes, The Afghan shares more than a few parallels with Lawrence of Arabia and readers gung-ho on Indiana Jones won't be disappointed. (FIC FORSYTH)