I had originally planned to write a light-hearted post about Las Vegas to go with this week’s airing of Ocean’s 11 until I heard about the death of Alain Resnais, one of the original French New Wave filmmakers. And, though I know my post will get lost in the many obits and tributes to Resnais, and a nod to old Las Vegas would likely have appealed to more readers, I wanted to write about the director who expanded my understanding of what film could be. Most film instructors and cinephiles remember seeing their first New Wave movie, usually at an age when they begin to check off the titles on that list of masterworks they intend to see. For many, it is a playful turn by Truffaut or an exercise in cool by Godard, but for me it was the cinema’s most enigmatic puzzle, Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad.
I first saw Marienbad in a film class. It found it difficult to get my footing in the story, which seemed to circle around itself. It was like waking up from a dream to discover I was in another dream. At a large, luxurious hotel, a woman referred to as A is approached by a man called X, who claims that they had met last year at either Frederiksbad or Marienbad. At first, A, who is at the hotel with M, her current husband or lover, denies that she knows X. But, X continues to persuade, seduce, and influence A until she begins to believe that the two did have an affair last year at Marienbad. Is X lying to A for his own agenda, or has A suffered a trauma that has caused her memory to fail? Is M a cruel or supportive husband, and what is the meaning behind the game of sticks he constantly plays. Some of the scenes seem to be the thoughts and fears of the characters, but the real and the imaginary are not clearly distinguished. I was immediately pulled into the intrigue of the characters, haunted by the melancholy mood, impressed with the austere black-and-white cinematography, and challenged by the insanely ambiguous narrative. After class, my peers and I pondered the meaning of the movie; I knew that if I could only figure it out, I would understand the mysteries of a sophisticated adult world just out of reach to me.
EVERYONE AGREED THAT THE CINEMATOGRAPHY BY SACHA VIERNY WAS EXTRAORDINARY.
Our professor told us that film critics, scholars, and intellectuals had analyzed the film in depth, but I didn’t realize how different their perspectives were until I researched them myself. Reviewers at the time were vexed by the film and angered by their inability to dissect it: Louise Corbin from Films in Review hissed, “The simple truth about Last Year at Marienbad is that a not untalented young filmmaker has forsworn the hard work artistic creation entails, and has allowed his immature and meaningless fumbling to be promoted by those who wish to convert Western culture into an irrational confusion.” Actor-director Jacques Brunius argued in favor of the confusing nature of film, noting that the ambiguities of the narrative are “the ambiguities of life itself.” Dwight MacDonald of Esquire thought the film was a beautiful charade and akin to a crossword puzzle but “lacking in emotional effect.” In Fifty Classic French Films, historian Anthony Slide echoes MacDonald’s opinion that Marienbad deliberately contains no warmth, humanity, or feeling, because it is an exercise in cinematography.
RESNAIS CONTEMPLATES A SHOT.
Then again, film scholars do not look for meaning so much as for context and significance. Much has been written about the film’s formal characteristics, including the fragmented narrative, the disruption of time, and the disorienting space, which means that Last Year at Marienbad is a film about the medium of film. An easy interpretation, given that all New Wave films are about film. This is the explanation that I preferred when I saw it for a second time with another movie-lover who was new to classic foreign films. I was writing my dissertation at the time and much more learned in the ways of film, or so I thought. Looking for a way to identify with the content or characters didn’t seem as important to me because I had discovered a fascination with self-reflexive movies. I felt that—like Resnais and his film—I was above simplistic explanations and the need for emotional identification with the material.
DELPHINE SEYRIG’S COSTUMES BY CHANEL PROMPTED A ‘MARIENBAD’ STYLE .
When I began to teach film studies and contemplated showing Marienbad to represent the French New Wave, I uncovered interpretations by scholars and experts in other fields. Art historians were attracted to the formalist visual design, including the panoramic views in which characters are mere shapes in a composition, the repeated and re-composed shots, and the fragmented sense of time. Relating Marienbad to Cubism and Surrealism expanded its credibility as a work of art on par with the paintings of Picasso and de Chirico, which helped me appreciate it on a new level. Other scholars chimed in with alternative claims. According to Roger Ebert, a professor once explained to him that the characters represent the mythic archetypes of the lover, the loved one, and the authority figure as discussed by anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss. Literary scholars found it a version of the Orpheus-Eurydice myth, while others felt it was a narrative version of the psychoanalyst-patient relationship, though I suspect the latter was by a writer who was angry at his shrink.
THE REPETITION IN THE VISUALS ECHOES THE REPETITIONS IN THE NARRATIVE.
The Internet offers scores of speculations and attempts to deconstruct the meaning, purpose, or significance of Last Year at Marienbad. The “cutest” ones are those by young web scribes who insist there is a logical, linear plot in there somewhere, if we can only figure out the right key. Perhaps X is a ghost; perhaps X has chased after A year after year but this time she has finally broken down; or, perhaps A has been traumatized by rape. The most suitable tribute to Alain Resnais may be that fifty years after its release, Last Year at Marienbad still prompts us to think about what we saw and try to articulate what it means. Resnais’ work reminds us that the discussion of film is so much more rewarding than mere consumption—something alien to many of today’s young movie-goers.
THE MYSTERIOUS GAME OF STICKS
As an adult who has lived a life with ups and downs, joy and sorrow, success and failure, I know longer expect to find an exact meaning for Last Year of Marienbad. Clear-cut linear stories and happy endings are for comic-book films and the children who chase after them. But, I am still intrigued, haunted, impressed, and challenged by Last Year at Marienbad, albeit for different reasons. The real appeal of the film for me lies its impressions and suggestions . . . and the reminder that any meaning in one’s life is lost in the shadows of memory—something you understand only through age and experience. As with life, there are no answers to the mysteries; there is no ending that will satisfy us.