And, while Bresson was known for his desire to use non-actors in his roles, that’s of no consequence in this film, since dialogue is at a minimum, and it could truly have been a silent film. We know and understand what is going on just from the great mis-en-scene. And by using that term I mean it in the most specific sense — not lighting nor background, but the very specific setups to a scene that leave no doubt as to what can occur and why. Bresson so skillfully constructs his characterizations of all, including the donkey, yet does so in such a minimal Matissean style, using what I would call ‘strokes of moments.’ The individual scenes and snippets form an almost — no, I won’t say impressionistic, but imbuerive (from the Latinate root word imbuere, for imbue) — fugue that, like the use of ellipses, compels the viewer to participate in the personalized co-creation of the art witnessed.
But, before one can claim that it is invalid, then, to critique the success of such a highly personal art form, note that my criticism is not of the personalized end product in the viewer’s mind, but the skill and success of the art form that is used as the inducer and artificer of that end product. A few words, a raised eyebrow, a nod of the head, and what would be mere caricatures or stereotypes in a lesser director’s hands, become high art in Bresson’s. Yet, Bresson crafts his mis-en-scene so strictly that the use of a trained actor would detract, for actors always seem to desire motivation, rather than just appearing in a moment that defines a character. Actors always desire to be the defining agent. Bresson alleviates that burden of responsibility from their shoulders in this film. Perhaps the only works of art, sanctioned in the public arena by publication and distribution, that I can think of, that equals this film’s tight picaresque structure, are Evan S. Connell’s great paired novels, Mrs. Bridge and Mr. Bridge.
Many critics have compared Bresson’s filmic style to that of the Japanese film master, Yasujiro Ozu, must famously, Paul Schrader in his turgid book, Transcendental Style In Film: Ozu, Bresson, Dreyer; however, the differences between the two filmmakers are significant. Ozu’s camera is steady, while Bresson’s roams — not so much in sweeping dollies nor a hand-held cinéma vérité style, but in its placement, making odd angles and unexpected juxtapositions a regular feature of the frame, whereas Ozu perfected the low held and static ‘tatami mat’ shot. Ozu is also strictly secular, whereas Bresson litters his films with overtly Christian paraphernalia, almost as an intentional decoy to reveal things much deeper.
Article comments
1 - Jon
Oh dear. This review is awful - and I say that though I think Balthazar is a masterpiece.
Is 12 pages of waffle really necessary for a review of the film? In the time it takes to read that I probably could have watched the film again. About 4 pages of that was merely plot describing! And 6 of them were just attacking other critics! Does Mr. Schneider actively search out critics to disagree with? Numerous critics have mentioned Bresson's technique, his use of ellipsis and to what extent the religious imagery is a mask for other things - and with more acuity and less adolescent ranting than this article.
I wont come back to comment, or read any more reviews by this guy because I've seen how any argument on these pages just descend into childish sniping. Still an awful review though.
And the donkey dies/ is dying at the end. To say not is just being very petty.
2 - Robert H
This paragraph--
"As for the DVD, put out by The Criterion Collection, it comes with no English dubbed soundtrack, and only white subtitles " a poor combination, as I’ve oft lamented. The positive of this, though, is that there is not much dialogue in the film that needs translation, and certainly no long speeches. Unfortunately, there is not even an audio film commentary track. This is simply inexcusable in this day and age, especially for such high priced merchandise as Criterion peddles."
--calls into question the legitimacy of anything you say before or after. The fact that you say (or at least imply) that you'd prefer to see a foreign film dubbed into English, makes me wonder if you actually do love foreign films. I can't know for sure, but this makes me think you might also prefer Balthazar in color.
3 - Dan Schneider
If you'd prefer to have up to 1/3 of your visual art marred by letters, go ahead, but any foreign films that are well-dubbed (many Ingmar Bergmans and some Fellinis) are far superior to the defacement of subtitling.
But, if you prefer it, go ahead.