A Tale of Winter (1992)

Brilliant and touching

It's hard to see any effort in the film. There's no comedy to speak of, no real drama and, worst of all.

The acting in this movie is really good.

The movie's neither hopeful in contrived ways, nor hopeless in different contrived ways. Somehow it manages to be wonderful

Felicie and Charles have a serious if whirlwind holiday romance. Due to a mix-up on addresses they lose contact, and five years later at Christmas-time Felicie is living with her mother in a cold Paris with a daughter as a reminder of that long-ago summer. For male companionship she oscillates between hairdresser Maxence and the intellectual Loic, but seems unable to commit to either as the memory of Charles and what might have been hangs over everything.Film critic Roger Ebert added A Tale of Winter to his Great Movies series in 2001, writing, "What pervades Rohmer's work is a faith in love--or, if not love, then in the right people finding each other for the right reasons. There is sadness in his work but not gloom." Respectfully, the film did not do for me what it did for Ebert. I loved the way it incorporated Shakespeare, which is the source of the film's title, but overall found it rather bland. A straight romance-drama tends to be bland, but that is no excuse for my boredom.

This movie was awful. Truly awful. I count myself as an Eric Rohmer fan. I loved My Night with Maude and Claire's Knee. I also like slow, arty movies: Kechiche, Chabrol, the Dardenne brothers, Kieslowski, Inarritu, Farhadi, Tarkovsky are all directors I admire. But this movie was insane. First the plot makes no sense. A young rather stupid (by her own view) woman, Felicie, has an affair one summer with a man, Charles, that, even 5 years later, she is convinced is the love of her life. But she doesn't know his last name? And because of a "slip" she gave him an incorrect for her? Really?Then skip ahead 5 years. Felicie is torn between 2 lovers: 1 is her hairdresser boss Maxence. The other is an intellectual who works in a library, Loic. She won't truly commit to either of them because she is sure one day Charles will miraculously appear. Meanwhile, she has had a daughter Elise (now 5 years old) by Charles. Her mother generally takes care of Elise. But when Max takes a job in Nevers (they had been in Paris) she impulsively joins him, dragging Elise. along. Then just as impulsively, 2 days later she decides to return to Paris, again dragging Elise along. That poor child.What was the worst, though, is the pretentious, stilted dialogue. It was so ridiculous and awkward that half the audience was laughing at the movie. And I saw it at the Film Society of Lincoln Center in NYC. Really, I had to review this movie because the 7.3 rating it gets on IMDb is just way too high. Don't put yourself through this movie!!

Rohmer and his Racinian dialogs remind that persons still exist who make movies as objects destined to a higher appreciation. I am pretty certain that his movie requires more than one viewing. I have found it interesting, nuanced and well—handled. Rohmer's movies are the true hallmarks of contemporary cinema; It is true that today I have sipped CONTE D'HIVER as an antidote; there was a time when, able to like Fellini, Kitano and Griffi, I disliked a Rohmer movie (as well as movies by Mrs. Duras, Tati—and the fact is that I did not identify their cause as art's own)—but nowadays I feel so offended and sickened by the current rubbish and so wholly Europhile that I resorted to Rohmer's outing as to an antidote, a balsam. I had this feeling of approval—yes, this is the way, that is how one should film …. I sipped it, I got it approvingly.Rohmer and his uniquely charming art are an encouragement and a substantial achievement for those who seek an adult art;as a movie buff, he had earned my respect long ago. Now, he has earned my esteem as a director as well.I would suggest a small history lesson—the very man who made CONTE D'HIVER (and, incidentally, gave me a renewed taste for the Shakespearian play) is the same who praises Hawks and considers him an essential director; so much about the simplistic dichotomy operated between schools, etc.. So, feel proud to exalt Hawks' movies—why, this is the sanest thing for a Rohmer fan!

With the exception of Godard, of whom one was enough, I've seen fewer films by Rohmer than by any French director - this is about the third - and I can't honestly say that I'm in a hurry to see any more. If, as in the case here, I see a DVD in my library that carries a modest rental I'll give him another try but so far I've seen nothing that makes me want to dash out to Blockbuster and rent everything I can find by him. Those Rohmer films I HAVE seen are, to some extent, interchangeable but that's not the same as having a STYLE; in Rohmer's case it merely means that the films are clearly shot with a minimum crew, next-to-no budget and a cast of unknowns all of whom appear to be addicted to Valium inasmuch as there are no violent outbursts, tempers are kept strictly under wraps and in lieu of histrionics we get philosophical discussions. This time around the leading female character indulges in a holiday romance that leaves her pregnant and ironically for a filmmaker who sets such great store on philosophy she refuses to dismiss it philosophically as just that, a holiday romance, as ninety nine out of a hundred would, but persists in viewing it as the love of her life. Despite affairs with two other men, both more than happy to settle down with her AND her daughter, she rejects them both until, in a scene worthy of Hollywood at its schmaltziest she boards a bus and takes a seat facing her long-lost love. WOW! Okay, don't get me wrong, it's watchable but please don't tell me it's anything else.