VALMONT: Blu-ray (Renn/Timothy Burrill Productions/Orion Pictures, 1989) Kino Lorber
Odd timing on director, Miloš Forman’s Valmont (1989), coming, as it did, on the heels
of Stephen Frear’s Dangerous Liaisons (1988); both films directly
influenced by Choderlos de Laclos’ 1782 French novel, Les Liaisons dangereuses.
Retrospectively, as well as comparatively, Forman has the stronger movie: visually
arresting – with Pierre Guffroy’s splendidly envisioned production design,
every inch of it oozing French aristocracy, magnificently captured on celluloid
by cinematographer extraordinaire, Miroslav Ondrícek. While Frear’s flick had
the killer casting of Glenn Close and John Malkovich, Forman has gone for more
tantalizingly understated performances from Colin Firth – at his most devilishly
handsome as the eponymous conqueror of female hearts via their loins, and, in
the role of the ruthless and scheming widow, Marquise de Merteuil, an unusually
affecting Annette Bening, showing uncanny viciousness, quite uncharacteristic
of her trademarked screen persona. The
rest of the picture is as exceptionally cast: Fairuza Balk as the appropriately
beguiling, but naïve Cécile de Volanges, Meg Tilly as Madame de Tourvel - a
wounded intellectual caught in the crosshairs of seduction, Siân Phillips as Cecile’s
mama, Madame de Volanges, Jeffrey Jones (Cecile’s betrothed, Gercourt) and,
most unexpectedly, a teenage Henry Thomas appropriately dashing and nubile, as
music tutor, Danceny.
The screenplay
by Jean-Claude Carrière and Miloš Forman succeeds in its genuine verve for
extolling the viciousness of Laclos’ characters, remaining true to period, and
yet, to infuse it with a whiff of something disdainfully contemporary. Comparatively, Frear’s first bite at the
apple unfolds as deliberately artful waxworks – perhaps, Frear’s trying
a tad too hard to maintain ‘period’ at the expense of never allowing his stars
to inhabit these vixens and vipers more fully. Unencumbered by such fidelity to
source material, Forman delivers on a vivacity that throbs with the more sinister romantic
impulses, while providing more depth and context to the devolution
in these crimes of passion. Valmont is a tale of bitter intrigues made
all the more perverse because they are set in the high culture and faux
respectability of Louis XVI’s court. Remember, it’s still a story about a twenty-something
cad exploiting his full faculties as a devious solicitor to rape and bed a
fifteen-year-old novice in the ways of the world. This distasteful premise is remade
as palatable, chiefly by Colin Firth’s cleverly sly turn as Valmont. Again,
comparatively, Frear’s is working with John Malkovich – a force of nature on
the screen, to be sure, though arguably, less physically attractive. So, while
Malkovich’s focus is on the audaciousness of this carnally-driven serpent of
the boudoir, Firth’s dapperness offsets the malevolence of Valmont’s passion with sexy charm. As if from Shakespeare’s time, Firth’s Valmont really can
smile and still be the villain.
Interestingly, Valmont
tanked at the box office, criticized for its ‘clash of accents’ and, at 2hrs./16mins.
for being overly long. Upon renewed reflection, neither reproach is worthy of
debate. Yet, the picture’s reputation since has not matured with time and
reassessment. Forman’s re-conception of sexual mind-play presents a more earthy
twist on this rigidly structured morality play. The cast are in a constant, kinetic state of arousal, almost from first frame to last, even as the Marquis indulges her
warped misdirection, indiscriminately meant to annihilate all, merely to avenge
her daft suitor, slated to wed the competition for the profit it derives. And
then, there is the absolute lushness of the piece to reconsider; the
spell-binding excellence in Paule Mangenot, Theodor Pistek and Carine Sarfati’s
costuming, and, candle-lit moody magnificence in Loula Morin, Albert Rajau,
and, Martina Skala’s art direction. Valmont is an exquisite tapestry
that positively indulges the senses with its sublime spectacle. Some scenes
contain more than a thousand extras, all decked out in period attire, if only
to be seen for merely seconds on the screen. If anything, Forman has managed
the minor coup to give 80’s audiences the look and appeal of a vintage 60’s
road show epic, in all the finery Orion Picture’s $33,000,000 budget can buy. It’s
a staggering achievement, discerning in its taste, proficiently played by all,
and tremendous in its execution, with Forman plumbing for all its salaciousness
and brooding wickedness.
Valmont opens with
scope and substance rarely combined at the movies. We are plunged into 18th
century France. Upon discovering her secret lover, Gercourt is set to marry
Cécile de
Volanges, a 15-year-old, convent-reared virgin of unimpeachable chastity, the
morally derailed Marquise de Merteuil, plots an insidious revenge to destroy
his happiness. She wagers her ex-lover, the notorious Vicomte de Valmont he
cannot take Cécile's virginity before her wedding night. This conquest holds
little appeal for Valmont, presently pursuing the presumably ‘happily wed’
Madame de Tourvel. As Tourvel’s husband is frequently absent, she is best known
for her virtue. Aware of Valmont’s debaucherous lifestyle, Tourvel deliberately
avoids him. So, Merteuil makes Valmont another wager. If he conquers Tourvel,
he may also bed her as his prize. If, however, he loses, he must confine
himself to a monastery. Though Valmont does not take any of this seriously, he is
intrigued at the prospect of bedding Merteuil again.
Alas, at the
outset his suit seems hopeless. Cécile shares in a teenage infatuation with her
music teacher, Danceny. The two are corresponding via letters concealed in her
harp. Merteuil reveals these secret assignations to Madame de Volanges while
conversely assuring the thwarted lovers she intends to arrange for them to consummate
their passion in private. Alas, as Cécile is too virtuous and Danceny too ethical.
So, Merteuil’s conspiracy falls flat. Now, under the guise of keeping the
lovers apart, Merteuil promises Madame de Volanges a peaceful summer in the
country where Valmont is presently pursuing Tourvel. Merteuil encourages
Valmont to help Cécile write love letters to Danceny – a ruse that ends with Valmont’s
seduction of Cecile instead. Overwrought by what she has done Cécile, still
believing Merteuil to be her closest confidant, explains what has transpired. Presumably to comfort the girl, Merteuil suggests
she wed Gercourt, but keep Danceny as her secret lover. Meanwhile, Valmont has
broken down Tourvel’s defenses. She beds him, confessing the affair to her
husband in a letter, only to discover Valmont has vanished at dawn’s early
light. Valmont returns to Merteuil to collect his ‘reward’, only to find her
indifferently splayed across her bed, waiting for him to merely get on with it.
Disgusted and bitter, Valmont encourages Cécile to write Danceny, explaining
Merteuil’s complicity in her plot to keep Danceny as Cecile’s lover. Tourvel returns
to Valmont. They spend another night together. But now, it is Tourvel who
returns to her husband.
Valmont is deeply
wounded. After all this time, he has learned how to love. Still, old habits die
hard. Valmont makes his pilgrimage to Merteuil’s boudoir, proposing they
remarry. To this ignoble gesture, Merteuil reveals Danceny having spent the
night in her bed. Enraged, Valmont plots to whisk Cécile to the country so she
can choose to love whomever she pleases. But their exit is thwarted by Madame
de Volanges, who orders Valmont from her estate. Danceny challenges Valmont to
a duel to avenge Cécile's honor. In reply, Valmont arrives hung over from a
drunken night’s revelry. Danceny honor will not allow him to proceed with the
duel. Desiring an end to all deceptions once and for all, Valmont deliberately
attacks, forcing Danceny to dispatch him in self-defense. Merteuil is devastated. In private, Cécile
confides in Valmont’s grieving aunt, Madame de Rosemonde (Fabia Drake), she is ‘with’
his child. Our tale concludes with Cécile and Gercourt’s lavishly-appointed
wedding. In attendance, a strangely matured Danceny, courted by a plethora of
eligible maidens. Merteuil is left to her arctic desolation, even as Tourvel
places a single bittersweet rose on Valmont’s grave while her sober and
understanding husband (Antony Carrick) patiently waits for
her return.
Valmont is a satisfying
epic, made intimate by Milos Forman’s deft direction. Yes, it is a long
movie, but one to unfurl with all-encompassing and effortless aplomb that makes
us forget its girth. While too many movies of this size and scope are plagued
by dramatic ennui, to curdle the vitality and gauge of their performances, Forman’s
concentration on performance alone ensures Valmont’s assets are never squandered
in service to the spectacle. Behind the scenes, Meg Tilly and Colin Firth fell
in love. They would have a son one year later. But their relationship would
barely last four more. Interestingly, Lorimar raced Dangerous Liaisons
into production to beat Valmont’s theatrical release. The resultant pic,
while solid, in hindsight, plays as something of a rush job to Valmont’s
more calculated approach. Ironically, neither movie was the blockbuster its
producers had hoped for; Liaisons becoming a modest success,
while Valmont notoriously lost money, often cited as one of the reasons
Orion Pictures went into premature bankruptcy. Viewed today, Valmont is
the better movie. It bests Frear’s first-out-the-gate with its visual finesse.
And better than Liaisons, Valmont illustrates the fallout from
this gradual erosion of passion, as well as the mounting menace to occur when
love turns so tragically to hate.
Valmont’s Blu-ray
release via Kino Lorber is adequate, though not superb. Miroslav Ondříček’s
expert use of natural and candle light to lens sequences harks back to John
Alcott’s brilliant work on Stanley Kubrick’s visually arresting Barry Lyndon
(1975). Valmont was originally released by Orion Pictures in 70mm. But
the Blu-ray remastering effort here is from a 2K scan off a 35mm interpositive reduction
print, not even the original camera negative! So, what should have been a
razor-sharp image with eye-popping colors now emerges as competently rendered but
unremarkable. Many of the darker sequences have been transformed into muddy
beige/brown, slightly grainy reflections of their former candle-flickering
glory, with dirty whites and anemic blacks. Contrast is also highly suspect in
several sequences, either to appear slightly boosted or weaker than
anticipated. Light speckling persists throughout, although age-related
artifacts are kept to a bare minimum. While there is nothing particularly
egregious about this presentation, there is also not much to distinguish it
beyond mere adequacy. The 2.0 DTS audio
is, like the visuals, passable without ever rising to the occasion. Extras are
limited to a vintage conversation with Milos Forman, an audio commentary from
historian/film maker, Daniel Kremer, and, a theatrical trailer. Kremer’s track
veers from opinion to factoid info. Bottom line: Valmont deserves an
improved 1080p transfer. In a perfect world, 4K off a 70mm negative would suit
it just fine. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
2
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