Cinema Canada (Feb 1976)

Mount Royal mountain too, but it is to die in the presence of the Indian in the Sun-mask. Eliza really is a film. The dialogue is minimal and one-dimensional, and the richness and life on the screen are visually achieved. Sheppard has timed his film to occur in Indian Summer, that October week when Canada is at its most beautiful. He plucks another symbol out of the season, of course, because Indian Summer is a strong image of the last breath of life before the winter death; in other words, an illusion. One of the most enjoyable and endearing aspects of the film is Sheppard’s sense of humour. He creates some marvellously comic moments. Marcel Sabourin is superb as a perverted doctor who can achieve sexual climax only when Eliza pulls him about on a fake centaur. Even a sly gibe at today’s obsession with filmmaking: his butler Blip photographs everything the doctor does in Super 8, but of course when the centaur scene occurs, and the doctor does reach a climax, Blip has forgotten to put film in the camera. Eliza’s costumed excursions to find her love are bright and funny, but never is Sheppard condescending to his subject. The art design by Francois Barbeau, along with his work in Kamouraska and Lies My Father Told Me, ranks him as surely the best in Canada. He has been aided in this effort by Jean Boffety and Michel Brault on camera, and, starting out as assistant then taking the helm, Paul van der Linden. The acting is just right for the tone. Lila Kedrova as an old performer is sometimes too. strident, and Elizabeth Moorman ultimately functions as a rack for Sheppard to hang his film on, but the acting is not central to the film’s level of success. Sheppard is central to the film’s success. He and his assistant Marguerite Corriveau have been working for five years to get it into shape. A long list of acknowledgements at the end of the film names those who also offered their aid. The film must finally be judged on its artistic merits and its ability to sell itself. Despite my few misgivings about the former, it is an enjoyable and interesting experience. In the sales area, I think it has a market, but I fear that it is small. Which is a shame, not only because of the years of hard labour but because of what Gordon Sheppard has created. Stephen Chesley Clement Perron’s Partis | pour la gloire d. Clément Perron, asst. d. Robert Blondin and Jacques Benoit, sc. Perron, ph. Georges Dufaux, ed. Pierre Lemelin, sd. Joseph Champagne, set dec. Denis Boucher, m. Francois Dompierre, cost. Louise Jobin, lp. Jacques Thisdale (Pierre Dodier), Jean-Marie Lemieux (The Mayor), Rolland Bédard (The Priest), Claude Gauthier (The Vicar), André Melancon (The Lieutenant), Rachel Cailhier (Nicole Dodier), Serge L’Italien (Claude Moreau) and Jean-Pierre Masson (Clovis Nadeau), p. Marc Beaudet, p. manager, Michel Dandavino, p.c. National Film Board of Canada, 1974, color, 35mm., running time 103 minutes, dist. Films Mutuels. Clément Perron’s new film, Partis pour la gloire, is a tender, aggressive story. It brings us back to the summer of 1942, and to the lives of a few young men and their women, faced with the consequences of a distant war. It’s an international and everlasting theme, full of possibilities. Unfortunately, the sloppiness of the direction and of the editing is simply too distracting, and Partis pour la gloire had a short and discreet life in Montreal theatres. Perron’s subtle sensitivity, which gave its soul to Mon Oncle Antoine and its spark to Taureau, is more beautiful than ever in this feature. He lets rip with caricature and humour, creating an overall image of wild youth Partis pour la gloire The Priest (Rolland Bédard) trys to reason with FIL REVIEWS and country in Quebec’s rural Beauce county. But he can also stop the folly and draw the spectator into the intimate feelings — gentle or harsh — of his favourite characters. He illuminates clearly the interior struggles of people fighting illogical powers and laws, of youths debating whether or not to obey conscription. The scene ‘between the mayor’s wife (Yolande Roy) and the parish priest (Roland Bédard), when she delivers a touching ‘feminist plea through the confessional bars, is one of the best in the film. Perron was fortunate in a sense to have these experienced actors, along with Jean-Marie Lemieux (the mayor) and Jean-Pierre Masson (wellknown for years on television as Quebec’s scrooge Séraphin, he appears as the people’s exploiter playing both sides of the fence). But wasn’t Perron too confident about this well-established acting talent and a bit soft as a director? Certainly, his directing lacks harmony and coordination. It is the young actors who bring his film to life. Not only because they feature in the main roles, but because of the impulsive energy they put in their interpretations. If Perron had held a tighter grip on the whole production, pushing his actors to greater precision and giving them better dialogue to work with, he would have given a meaning to what is now an excess of gut feeling, a feature which seems unfinished. Serge L’Italien, Rachel Cailhier and Jacques Thisdale make a good trio, sympathetic and believable. Their romances and their illusions could have eutenant Laroche (André Melancon) in february 1976 / 45