The Disturbing Relevance of Renoir’s La Régle du Jeu
:: Travis Else ::

An axiom that European’s have used for years to slight America is “The United States has no history.” To which most Americans reply “That may be true, but Europe has no future.”

Despite our recent financial troubles (which have been slight, in fact, compared to our European allies’ woes), the U.S. still maintains such an overwhelming advantage in terms of economic prosperity, technological advancement, and overall vibrancy, many Europeans cringe to think that

perhaps the U.S. has assumed a position of superiority in matters of culture. I believe the U.S. has perhaps succeeded Europe in adopting amoral social mores, as well.

Watching Jean Renoir’s classic film La Régle du Jeu (aka The Rules of the Game) last night, I was struck by how much the United States has become like France of the early 20th century: disaffected, disillusioned, materially consumed, godless, and almost exclusively amoral. What is more, the current populace lacks the one merit, if it may be called that, of the 1930’s French aristocracy: class.

Ultimately, La Régle du Jeu follows Renoir’s theme in of exposing the idiocy of class structure. Where as Grande Illusion laments the absurdity of war as it mocks warmongers, La Régle du Jeu laments amorality as it mocks all social classes: the aristocracy, the bourgeoisie, and the peasant classes.

Set on the eve of WWI in Paris, the film opens with hero-pilot André Jurieu returning from a record-setting trans-Atlantic flight. Interviewed upon landing, he sadly laments: “I have never been so disappointed in all of my life!” This because his lover has chosen not to meet him at the airport. As we are introduced to the primary players, we find that love is random and arbitrary: husband and wife maintain illicit, though indiscreet liaisons with friends. Renoir makes very clear that, to the aristocracy, love is as Chamfort says: “An exchange of two whims and the contact of two skins.”

Loneliness, alienation, and boredom are expertly conveyed by Renoir through the soulless dialogue of aristocrat Marquis la Chesney and his mistress, Genevieve. Upon telling her that their affair is over, and that he is committing himself to his wife, Genevieve is unmoved, other than to say she wants the Marquis to suffer as she surely will. The Marquis flippantly invites Genevieve to lunch, at which she replies benignly “I don’t know if it’s my emotions, but I’m dying of hunger!”

La Chesney’s wife, Christine, is the lone female of any perceived conscience in the film. The object of pilot Jurieu’s affection and herself a Parisian émigré, she exudes a winsome naiveté in regard to relationships: “You mean, I can’t be nice to a man in Paris without him falling in love with me?” We later learn, of course, that this naiveté is practiced, and not sincere. However, in the first half of the film we are allowed to sympathize with her.

The sadness of the bourgeoisie, here represented by pilot Jurieu, is unsympathetic and selfish. A victim of unrequited love, he considers suicide, and, despite his heroism and celebrity, considers his life a failure for not having won the charms of Christine. As his confidante Octave (Renoir himself acting as conscience of the film) tells him, “She’s a society woman and society has some stiff rules.” These are the rules of which the title speaks, and a profound statement on the idiocy of French society. Whereas it is completely appropriate (and quite expected, in fact) to have a mistress or lover, one must still adhere to the rules of class. For example, when Jurieu does eventually win the heart of Christine, he feels it is his duty to tell her husband, the Marquis, of their tryst: to him it is an obvious act of propriety and grace.

As the relationships continue to unfold in loveless liaisons and manipulative dalliances, even Octave begins to crumble: “(How I wish to disappear) so I could stop worrying about what is right and what is wrong.” Ultimately, each player is burdened with selfish desires and lack of morality. This amorality is shown quite humorously as Christine confronts Genevieve, her husband’s mistress, with the knowledge of their less-than-discreet affair. Both make an attempt at hurt and grief, but in the end simply share a laugh at the Marquis’ one fault (smoking in bed), and become preoccupied with what costumes they shall wear at the evening’s party.

Perhaps the most memorable scene from the movie occurs as the party goes hunting at La Colinière, the Marquis’ country estate. The group of friends, all of them carrying on some sort of affair with another, while away their time hunting rabbits, allowing their servants to root out the hare and pheasants, and taking turns shooting the helpless creatures. It is sporting and banal, exuding a grim pathos that seems to underscore the disillusionment that ultimately results in WWI.

As the story climaxes, we observe directly the lifelessness and depravity of the group. A party-goer exclaims “I’ve had too much to drink and don’t know what I’m doing…” to which her companion replies “Good!” As the dalliances further unfold and emotions surface (in fact, it is the jealous Shumacher, his wife fooling around with a fellow servant, who finally acts on conscience, and seeks to kill his wife’s lover), the party implodes. Aghast at what his soirée has disintegrated into, the Marquis instructs his servant “Corneille, stop this farce!” to which Corneille replies “Which one?”

Altogether it is a pathetic spectacle of depravity and amorality, clashing with the strict social code of the day. Though to carry on an affair is “fun,” to live under the same roof with one’s lover is “immoral.” There are random codes of conduct to which even the valueless must live by. Renoir’s derision of this valueless society begins as comedy, but ultimately ends in tragedy. Regardless of a society’s amorality, there is always a price to pay for that amorality. Which leads me back to my original thesis.

Fifty years ago, the United States could be stereotypically described as nothing other than a puritanical society (many would argue that this was, to be precise, a society of puritanical hypocrites, but that discussion is for another day). Marriage was a sacred institution. Illicit affairs were not something to be flaunted, despite their existence. As our nation’s history has unfolded, and as we have in fact become the center of world culture and economic might (this can and will be argued by many), we have shed the clothes of morality. An observance a friend and I have visited about recently is the apparent lack of moral structure, primarily in our young people.

This exists to the point of eye-opening sexual promiscuity amongst children, increased violent crimes committed by children, and a general lack of knowledge or interest in living by a firm set of values. This is not a statement of judgment. It is simply an observance. It is an observance that can only lead me to believe that our society is becoming what French society was in the middle of the 20th century: a collection of valueless nouveau riche desperately searching for meaning to the point of exhaustion, and summarily relying on material wealth and passionless relationships to fill a life devoid of meaning. It is a simple adherence to the idea that “Love is temporary, sex is forever.”

La Régle du Jeu is not a film about sex. It is certainly not a film that attempts to pass judgment on society. It is a film about the loneliness and disillusionment of a society. No class is exempt, however all are affected to varying degrees and with varying results. Renoir’s portrait could easily be applied to most social circles in the U.S. today. In fact, Ang Lee’s Icestorm is a film that immediately comes to mind in delving into such issues.

Renoir is a careful observer of the world. His filmmaking, especially in the late 1930’s seemed to be prophetic in its vision of cause and effect. Larger issues were always at stake in his films. By cutting to the minutiae (the unraveling of the gentleman warrior in WWI, the unraveling of class values in early 20th century European society), Renoir was able to comment on the future of his country and continent. And so, we now witness a collection of societies with no identity (the advent of the Euro and broadening of the European Union have seen to this) and very little influence in finance, politics, or culture.