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Blu-Ray Review: Au Revoir Les Enfants -- Criterion Collection

Louis Malle’s remarkable film Au Revoir Les Enfants is somber, subtle and moving, it also happens to be one of the best films I’ve seen that tangentially relates to the atrocities of the first World War.  No, it isn’t quite about the Holocaust the way other films that deal with 1944 are, but this one takes the story away from the violence in Germany and the scary adult world, and places the action in the hands of children in a small town in France.

At only 105 minutes in length, Malle’s 1987 film finds us looking into the lives of Catholic school boys in France as they welcome some new classmates into the school.  The newcomers are Jewish, though this is not immediately known to the rest of the boys, and as the war seems to circle ever closer to their small corner of the world, the inevitable questions about death and the self begin to come to light.

The film is beautifully shot, and very nearly perfect.  Based on an incident from Louis Malle's own young life, the perfection of the film comes in the details of the boys’ lives.  They are rich, Catholic and self-involved to the final degree, barely beginning to enter that period of life where they can consider the lives of others.  There is a price to be paid for this selfishness, as when the cruelties done to a classmate or to the servant-- Joseph, whether in jest or in ignorance, come back to haunt them.  The film is so well made that it looks entirely authentic, and indeed it took me quite some time to figure out the film had been made in the late 1980’s. Malle’s film had an actual impact elsewhere in the film world, Kryzystof Kieslowski saw Les Enfants and became interested in the young actress who played the piano teacher, Irene Jacobs.  Jacobs would go on to star in The Double Life of Veronique as well as Kieslowski’s final film, Red.  Little connections like this are what makes film and music history so fascinating, following the threads that tie everything inextricably together.

The special features on this Criterion release are thoughtfully compiled, including a video interview with actress Candice Bergen, to whom Malle was married for many years until his death. Her memories of Malle’s filmmaking process and of Au Revoir Les Enfants in particular are touching to watch.  Bergen speaks with the warmth and understanding of a wife, but also with the clear admiration of a fan.

French film historian and Malle biographer Pierre Billard gives a wonderful overview of Malle’s work and the place that Au Revoir Les Enfants had in the overall spectrum, lingering upon the fact that the film was the first film Malle made upon returning home to France from a stint making some rather unsuccessful pictures in America,  The film is also based upon Malle’s young life, as incidents very similar to those depicted in the film happened to Malle when he was attending a boy’s Catholic school as a child.  This left an indelible mark upon Malle as it only could, and the idea to make a film based on these occurrences stayed with him for many years until Au Revoir Les Enfants came into being.   Charlie Chaplin’s film The Immigrant, which the boys watch at one point in the movie, is also included here in full.

An included audio interview of Malle at AFI answering questions about the filmmaking process is particularly interesting, as Malle is meticulously conscientious, articulate and self-aware.  It boggles my mind when Criterion can’t dig up even a single interview with the director about his own work for a film, though I know they do their best – nothing compares to hearing a director speak about their own work and it's wonderful that Malle's contribution was included here.

The two essays are fairly good, but perhaps not as memorable as other Criterion essays.  One is more historically focused, and is written by Francis J. Murphy focuses on the life and death of Father Jacques, who was the head of the school Malle attended as a child, very similar to the one portrayed in the film.  The other essay by Philip Kemp is lamentably short, yet offers a fair amount of insight into the film.  Still it left me wanting more, which is perhaps an ideal outcome of consuming information from Criterion releases.  The extensive outlay should alert you to the possibilities, inform you that there are other works out there by the same director, and point you in several different directions as you continue to search.

They have dispensed with an audio commentary for the film, and as with many of the Blu-ray releases that Criterion puts out lately, very little if anything has been changed from the 2005 release.  Purchase the Blu-ray only if you are obsessed with owning the newest formats, otherwise a rental or the DVD should suffice for now.

Au Revoir Les Enfants is now available from the Criterion Collection.

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