mcsony-930-375305 I watched this film because I wanted to learn more about the French New Wave method of cinema, but I found myself very quickly drawn into the characters and the story itself. This is a painting of life with a palette that is almost complete, it so effortlessly portrays reality in it's most mundane and most beautiful at the same time. It sounds corny to say it, but it raises the everyday to the sublime. Don't get too distracted and bogged down by the French philosophy here, it turns out that is just a ruse, a sort of nervous tick that people are using to hide real feelings. I would say it's not's quite "Tokyo Story", but it's damn close.

Ilpo Hirvonen Ma nuit chez Maud AKA My Night at Maud's is Eric Rohmer's third Moral Tale. Eric Rohmer, together with Truffaut, Godard, Chabrol & Rivette, formed the French New Wave, which offered a new view on narrative. Rohmer's films are often seen as more mature compared to his other French New Wave companions. My Night at Maud's is a moral study, which dialog achieves to catch the viewer right from the start.Two men, Jean-Louis and Vidal meet again after 15 years. They decide to go to visit Vidal's friend, Maud. In Maud's apartment the group of three have interesting discussions about Pascal, philosophy, moral and religion. What makes these discussions so interesting is the difference of Vidal, Jean-Louis and Maud. Jean-Louis is a catholic who believes in the holiness of man. Vidal is a Marxist who replaces God with history, he believes in history instead of God. Maud is an atheist, who believes in true short-term happiness. When Vidal leaves the apartment, Jean-Louis gets to a moral dilemma.Jean-Louis talks a lot about a young blond woman he saw in church, Francoise. He doesn't know anything about her, but she represents religious and an ideal woman to him. Where Maud is the opposite to him. Jean-Louis doesn't believe in short-term happiness. So as he spends the night at Maud's he gets to a moral dilemma. According to his religious beliefs he should resist the temptation of Maud. Again his lie to Francoise is Christian compassion, but it's also a desire to hide his dishonesty.My Night at Maud's goes very deep. It's not just about what's on surface: the intellectual dialogs and the moral dilemmas. The intelligence of Rohmer goes much deeper. And that is what I like in his films, even if you don't understand everything, the films have something that make you watch them again and again. I'm 17 and when I walked into a dark theater to see this fine film, I was blown away. When the film is over, you have came from a moral journey. So Eric Rohmer's film, obviously doesn't just stop at being the battlefield of ideologies.

horus472 I saw this back in the day, and -- unlike other French New Wave films -- this film changed my view of film making. Having seen it several times recently, however, I now think it is far better than I thought although I also think that it takes repeated viewings to fully appreciate (is that so unforgivable?). Many reviewers begin with the discourses on Pascal's wager and others refer to Rohmer's confirmation of middle class values. But I suggest that the film is really two films, both of which are fascinating, and which magnify each other. The first is the struggle between a strong woman (Maud) and a man superficially fixated on his image the woman-for-him (Jean-Louis). Here the film enjoys the happy coincidence of perfect casting and great acting. The second film is about all the talk that everyone else except Maud takes so seriously. The real drama is the first film. The second is just an ironic commentary on the first, but is crucial for revealing character, mostly Jean-Louis', but finally everyone's. Yes, the film has ambiguity (hence the need for repeated viewings), and the ambiguity adds to the drama of Jean-Louis' confusion about his pre-fab future. But I think the moral heart of the film, and the real assessment of characters, is defined by the honesty of their speeches, which is almost impossible to track on the first viewing. (You get the underlying drama at first, but not the intricacies of character revelation.) In the end, only one character proves really honest, and I find that to be the truly poignant -- and not entirely explicit -- implication of its ending. Some reviewers here got the point. But please ignore the griping of Franco-phobe pseudo-intellectuals who miss the point (unless of course you fit that description.) This timeless film is 10 out of 10.

jcappy 8 Ambiguity Preferable?It's hard to speak about "My Nigh at Maud's" in words other than those of praise for its filmic qualities... but how's about taking on meaning. Either this film is pretty ambiguous or I'm missing something. Whether one dissects its parts or observes it whole, it remains ambiguous. So, isn't ambiguity a good thing? Yes, if its recognition leads to meaning, action, truths. No, if it is simply escape, fence-sitting, or art-for-art's sake. But is Rohmer's masterpiece as ambiguous as it appears? My guess is that it's not. Rohmer sets up these distinct dichotomies between religion/piety and atheism/freedom, light and dark, and men and women. He seems somewhat more sympathetic toward the latter, but a proponent of the former. Perhaps he stands with the preacher for whom Christianity is a "way of life," and "an adventure of sanctity." But isn't Rohmer left behind when his priest adds that it "takes madness to become a saint?" I say this because the film's ending casts a firm vote for form over freedom. But his move away from ambiguity in the direction of form--as opposed to freedom, seems to detract from his genuine classic. For its Rohmer's solipsisms (sex, love, marriage) that present the problem. First, his central character's role is undermined by these. Jean-Louis is initially an absorbing character, a provincial intellectual, with an air of world travel, and independence. There is no dis-juncture between him and the incredibly effective mise en scene. He is as particular a man in a very specific place--as is his friend, Vidal, the suave philosophy professor. They breathe the air of this provincial world--and such a rare treat: intellectuals with holds on themselves occupying film space. But Jean-Louis's distinction begins to slip early and slides (incidentally, so does Vidal's and for similar reasons) during his night at Maud's. There's something about the way he chases Francoise--it seems too mundane, too breezy and somewhat obtuse--as if he's quickly morphing into the default French male. But he does make comebacks--that is, before setting foot in Maud's apartment. The problem, however, isn't Maud's--his holy water piety or self-righteousness are not at issue--nor is Jean-Louis Trintignant's performance because he fits the original character perfectly. It's the role. He has not only made a generic male but, more specifically, a Rohmer male--one who exists to experience moral tests via a Rohmer type female who is seductive (always leggy) wily, sophisticated at least in the ways of sex/love/men, and above all, tempting. As unsettling as Maud may be (see below) again it's the role that takes him out of character, not Maud. He loses his reserve, he becomes too confessional, too awkward--physically and emotionally. He adopts various male postures--the sexually experienced, the wit, the daringly direct, the self-satisfied and he cannot navigate Maud's rather obvious set-up. Whatever he seemed to have had initially has gone the way of passivity, uncertainty, self-absorption, and dependency. He appears a suckling lying across Maud's bed, leaning on his elbow, and gaze-talking into her eyes--then mummy wrapped next to her. And he's lost his warmth (the antithesis of Hitchcock's Father Logan in "I Confess") Yet in spite of all this he will, at times, remind of his early identity, and isn't completely overshadowed by Chermont's cityscape. What about the title character, Maud? She's the dark-eyed, black hair, worldly (the atheist) to Francoise, the blond catholic snow queen. She too is assigned a role, but while Jean-Louis' is irreversible, hers is reversible---because it cannot contain her longings. However, her expansive identity is not a winning one because it is achieved outside Rohmer's closed box of marriage, love, and sex (her uncomfortably warm apartment, within which even the Marxist Vidal succumbs) The price of her emotional range, values, freedom, romantic leanings is depressing solitude and broken marriages. But what she gets for playing the role of game mistress, temptress, and mediator to men's moral quests, is a chance to expose in these men more than they bargain for. They have to deal with her own acute ambivalence about her roles and also with her uncontrolled consciousness--she would never be among the bevy of girls who Gandhi slept with to test his chastity. She's a witness to men's pretenses, "lack of spontaneity," "stiffness," secretiveness, clinical intelligence--and, yes, their so-called moral victories. In other words, Maud sounds like the point of view character (and this, for me, is the chief reason for the ambiguity I first referred to). But she's not. She is simply being used as a challenging argument against freedom, and as a mediator of male form and morality. She is free at her own peril--and carries the stigma of freedom. Which she continues to bear 5 years later in terms of isolation and disappointment in love. She alone is not privy to the infinite compositional shot of Jean-Louis, his pre-selected bride Francois, and their son embracing the beachscape of salvation, their principles of faith, love, and marriage intact. For Rohmer's lens turns away from those who do not even care to wager on his fabricated, established forms.