The Discreet Charm of the BourgeoisieMost times, you go into a movie expecting to have a consistent story, something which has a straightforward kind of character development, something which follows a logical train of thought. And then you watch The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and director Luis Bunuel pulls the rug out from under you, undermining your expectations with false setups, again and again, and ambiguous sequences of the six main characters--the aforementioned bourgeoisie, in the Marxist sense of the word--walking down a country road, destination unknown. This is not a criticism, but rather another hallmark of the film's own absurd charm.
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Describing the plot of The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie is a bit difficult, because--theoretically--much of what happens is actually the content of dreams, by some of the major players, and even the odd police detective. Just when we think we have a handle on what is going on, usually something dramatic and shocking--whoops!--it turns out to have been the dream of someone else, usually someone saddled with enough ennui to choke a camel. In a way, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie is a parody of other art house films, with characters entrenched in upper-class roles, fretting over first-world problems--hiding affairs from their friends, sneaking out for a frolic in the grass while the guests wait down stairs, not having any tea at the restaurant. Instead of dealing with existential angst, the extent of this upper crust's problems come from the inability to be able to formally get together for dinner. The entirety of The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie actually does orbit the dilemma of not being able to have dinner, and the persistent thwarting of the party's best efforts to eat food, be it due to scheduling conflicts, a visit by the army, or even getting arrested. The six elites themselves are presumably important people--and the wives and sister of important men--who occupy their time and squander the money they have with trivial pursuits...horoscopes, condescending to the chauffeur, lamb-serving etiquette, et cetera. If there is any "discreet charm", it is so discreet to be nonexistent. The parody here of the well-off from other films featuring the rich and bored is that none of these people are really even what we might consider "good people". As a sly nod, one of the women of the party--Simone Thévenot--is played by Delphine Seyrig, who starred in my personal favorite art house film of this style, Last Year at Marienbad. One of these "one percenters"--the ambassador to the fictional Latin American country of Miranda--does little to thwart public opinion of his country as a third-world cesspool of crime and corruption, as he himself deals drugs to his friends, molests his attractive would-be assassin, and--depending on the authenticity of dreams--might be guilty of murder.
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie could be described as a social commentary--quite easily, in fact--showing the relationship between the administrative and "ruling" class contrasted with the rest of society--the military, the common folk, even the church, represented by the oddly eccentric bishop Dufour (Julien Bertheau) who visits the Sénéchal household to apply to become their gardener--by first approaching the madame et monsieur dressed in the former gardener's clothing. The comparisons are never so overt to be any kind of directly pointed political commentary, but the undercurrent is there in these encounters. For instance, when the party is arrested--not surprising, given ambassador Rafael Acosta (Fernando Rey) has been smuggling cocaine into France in his "diplomatic pouch", selling it to his friends. Pretty strong grounds for a felony charge, diplomatic immunity or no; but the minister of something or another phones the detective to have them released. When the detective asks why, the minister replies, but is drowned out by the sound of an airplane, twice, implying what he has to say is a lot of bull anyway. But a personal favorite representation of the disconnect between those who swing in political circles and those who serve in the military is when the three women are approached by a lieutenant in the restaurant, who inexplicably tells them of his childhood, when he saw the ghost of his mother advising him to poison the man who claimed to be his father. The scene feels more like a metaphor for post-traumatic stress disorder, given his occupation--also that the country of France in this movie appears to be at some kind of war with the "green army". What is the response by these representatives of the movers and shakers? They smile and them fret about the lack of coffee in the restaurant. It's possible I'm reading too much into The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie; after all, I think that ambiguity is part of the fun, that there is not necessarily a clear message, in keeping with the dream-like quality of the absurd, that pool in which Bunuel often dips his feet--hence the predominance of dreams and the waking revelation of these events being dreams for our characters. And those walks down the road...they are enigmatic and seem utterly at odds with any reality in which these characters belong, considering they are so apparently wealthy that they take cars driven by valets everywhere. But I think these scenes are also metaphorical, representing the characters--and not people, but characters--transitioning along the road of dreams from one scenario to the next, actors playing the parts in the minds of someone, even themselves, en route to the next performance. There is a delight in the artifice in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, with frequent instances of obviously fake backdrops. It's not that far to step across the next line, and remember that this too is a movie, with actors playing parts; where does the artifice end?
Recommended for: Fans of a deviously clever and absurd comedy of rich people trying to eat, but something always comes up. It doesn't sound like much, but like the proverbial carrot dangled in front of our noses, we follow along to see just how crazy it can get.
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie could be described as a social commentary--quite easily, in fact--showing the relationship between the administrative and "ruling" class contrasted with the rest of society--the military, the common folk, even the church, represented by the oddly eccentric bishop Dufour (Julien Bertheau) who visits the Sénéchal household to apply to become their gardener--by first approaching the madame et monsieur dressed in the former gardener's clothing. The comparisons are never so overt to be any kind of directly pointed political commentary, but the undercurrent is there in these encounters. For instance, when the party is arrested--not surprising, given ambassador Rafael Acosta (Fernando Rey) has been smuggling cocaine into France in his "diplomatic pouch", selling it to his friends. Pretty strong grounds for a felony charge, diplomatic immunity or no; but the minister of something or another phones the detective to have them released. When the detective asks why, the minister replies, but is drowned out by the sound of an airplane, twice, implying what he has to say is a lot of bull anyway. But a personal favorite representation of the disconnect between those who swing in political circles and those who serve in the military is when the three women are approached by a lieutenant in the restaurant, who inexplicably tells them of his childhood, when he saw the ghost of his mother advising him to poison the man who claimed to be his father. The scene feels more like a metaphor for post-traumatic stress disorder, given his occupation--also that the country of France in this movie appears to be at some kind of war with the "green army". What is the response by these representatives of the movers and shakers? They smile and them fret about the lack of coffee in the restaurant. It's possible I'm reading too much into The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie; after all, I think that ambiguity is part of the fun, that there is not necessarily a clear message, in keeping with the dream-like quality of the absurd, that pool in which Bunuel often dips his feet--hence the predominance of dreams and the waking revelation of these events being dreams for our characters. And those walks down the road...they are enigmatic and seem utterly at odds with any reality in which these characters belong, considering they are so apparently wealthy that they take cars driven by valets everywhere. But I think these scenes are also metaphorical, representing the characters--and not people, but characters--transitioning along the road of dreams from one scenario to the next, actors playing the parts in the minds of someone, even themselves, en route to the next performance. There is a delight in the artifice in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, with frequent instances of obviously fake backdrops. It's not that far to step across the next line, and remember that this too is a movie, with actors playing parts; where does the artifice end?
Recommended for: Fans of a deviously clever and absurd comedy of rich people trying to eat, but something always comes up. It doesn't sound like much, but like the proverbial carrot dangled in front of our noses, we follow along to see just how crazy it can get.