Edenic Realism

I.

The initial pleasure of an Éric Rohmer film is the pleasure of a beautiful face. The initial response of any viewer is a dazed enchantment with his titillating aesthetics. The faces, yes, but also the French landscape and the youthful, lithe bodies that populate it. Despite its name, even Rohmer’s A Tale of Winter begins with tones of blush pink and sparkling summer azure. A seagull flies overhead to the dulcet notes of a piano. A couple lounges on a beach in nude, edenic delight. Rohmer seems allergic to the grime and ugliness of material concerns. Money and means are almost never a problem for his characters, even those who appear to be as precariously situated in the economy as Félicie, the hairdresser protagonist of A Tale of Winter. Thin, young, blonde, and toggling between potential partners, Félicie is the quintessential Rohmerian protagonist. Her beauty invites viewers to overlook her questionable erotic politics and turns endearing the casual exploitation of her lovers’ generosity. Perhaps Rohmer understood that instant aesthetic gratification was necessary to carry viewers through his films, which often amount to little more than people sitting around and talking.