Nineflick

1967, France
Director: Luis Buñuel
Screenplay: Buñuel, Jean-Claude Carrière
Story: Joseph Kessel (novel)
Notes: The title translates as “daylilly,” and is a play on “belle de nuit,” or prostitute.

Belle de Jour is a bizarre and beautiful movie. It follows a young housewife named Séverine Serizy as she comes to grips with her sexual identity. She is compelled beyond the forces of reason into becoming a high-class prostitute during the day, before returning to an unknowing husband at night. Yet plot is almost secondary to the film’s skillful conjuring of mood, emotion, and presence. It is a study on sexuality, its mystery and power, that is simultaneously highly creative and thoroughly engaging.

Integral to Belle de Jour’s tone is its ability to weave fantasy with reality. There are several dream sequences interspersed through the film, and on at least one occasion I found it difficult to determine what was real and what was imagined. Buñuel uses non-diegetic sound to heighten this effect, lapping the strange associations of the main character against the shore of reality. The meow of a cat, the tinkle of a bell – they signify something to her, and therefore to the audience, but she is as helpless to decipher them as we are. They are ultimately mere components of her hyperactive imagination, and as unassailable as they are fascinating.

The blurring of fantasy and reality is furthered by a parade of characters, all with peculiar desires of their own. In the movie’s best-known scene, a large Asian businessman visits Séverine’s brothel, propositioning one of the other girls with a mysterious lacquered box. There is a strange sort of buzzing sound in the background as he opens it. The girl peers inside, and draws away with a look of repulsion. Séverine, too, has her doubts when the businessman proffers it to her; but a later cut suggests that she had no qualms with the businessman, and perhaps the box and its contents. What could possibly be in the box? There is no logical interpretation, but it’s a creative bit of symbolism that piques the imagination.

Séverine herself is one of the most interesting characters I’ve seen on film. She has very little personality, and acts almost entirely under the influence of her passions. At times she seems possessed by them. In a sense, we understand the logic of this; Buñuel didn’t need to flesh out her character, because she is a vehicle for the film’s encounters and ideas. But there is enough there to make us wonder about her, what makes her tick. In the movie’s final act, note not just her actions, but her emotional state – I feel like this tells more about her than anything else we see.

Style: 9
Here is a movie with style in spades, from excellent directing (watch how carefully the camera tracks from face to face, or follows a nervous Séverine’s hand) to the effective use of sound and symbolism. Catherine Deneuve is perfect in the lead role, striking a unique blend of distance and passion. Note that the film manages its tone with no explicit shots – by itself, a remarkable feat.

Substance: 9
Belle de Jour is a rare movie that demands not only repeat viewings, but interpretation and analysis. It is a study on human emotion and desire, on morality and psychology, on fantasy and reality. On top of that, it’s emotionally engrossing. Its existentialist tone reminds me of Kubrick’s 2001, or Hitchcock’s Vertigo. These are films that suck the reality out of you, and leave you wondering “what exactly did I just see?”  It never fails to amaze me, when a movie can have that sort of effect on you.

Overall: 9
It seems natural that in perusing a great movies list I eventually come upon a truly great movie. Belle de Jour is my favorite find from Ebert’s list to date (excepting Days of Heaven – review pending). I would heartily recommend it to all walks of film fans.