Léon Morin Prêtre

Léon Morin Prêtre (1961) was one of the most truly intriguing films I've seen, yet. This is no noir-gangster saga, but it remains quintessentially Melville. The drastic lighting, the focus on solitude, the minimalism... With that said, there were a few techniques and approaches that were very unique to this film: the dissolve to black editing, the manner that he uses this strong female lead, the pointed use of religion, and child actors are among a few things I haven't seen in another Melville work.

The audacious decision (and maybe a bit sacrilegious) to take Jean Paul Belmondo (Léon Morin) and dress him as a priest panned out beautifully: his reserve, and steely emotion was perfect for the role. On the other hand, to make Emmanuelle Riva (Barny) a young, lusty, atheist, widow who ends up converting under the young priest's tutelage was even more daring.

As Morin and Barny begin their relationship, on strictly ecclesiastical terms, we see the sparks flying: and the attempts to suffocate them. Profound and specific theo-philosophical issues are addressed by the two characters. Barny is a sworn atheist who states, "Religion is the opiate of the masses!" Surprisingly, Father Morin has opinions of his own, though he admits and affirms to only having one Shepard, Christ. For a while, the two agree to disagree and seem to enjoy each others company. The visits that continue seem to act as a form of distraction from the devastating war that is unfolding all around them. At one point, we watch in the reflection of a business window as some jews are brutally rounded up and thrown into the back of a van. Deaths hit close to home, people change identities, Barny even baptizes her child who is half jewish to protect her. Even further, it was indeed because of the war that this unlikely companionship even happened...

The most profound scene, in my opinion, comes when Morin visits Barny at home to find her chopping some wood. The priest, who has a 'free priest's pass' to just handle the reluctant woman, forces the hatchet from her hands and cuts the rest of the wood for her. She watches patiently, and somewhat, longingly. Having an able bodied male in the home chopping at the wood seems to take its effect on Barny, because shortly afterwards she makes a fatal mistake. She asks the priest, "If you were a protestant priest would you marry me? I need to know, would you have me as your wife?!" Morin, hatchet still in hand, chops into the cutting stump with fury and storms out of the house. The scene is devastating: its over.

The film does not end there, but I can't promise you a less depressing finish. The end leaves the viewer asking themselves, "why?" Inevitably, one wants to start pointing fingers--can't watch this one and walk away without brooding.