MisterWhiplash Camelot. The Holy Grail. Lancelot. Knights of the Round Table, Merlin, Guinevere. They're all here, ripped right from the pages of history and countlessly re-told versions of the King Arthur mythology/history and made into, yes, a film by Robert Bresson. This means that those who want just a meaty action movie aren't going to be entirely happy with what they see, particularly because of its promise literally in the first minute of the film has some explicit, rampant bloodshed. It was indeed what spurred on the "It's only a flesh wound" scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. And unlike the Python gang, Bresson plays it with such a straight face one will think straight away that this might be the most bloody of all of the Arthurian pieces of cinema.It is, I should report, not that really. Oh sure, when it comes time to it, like in the last five minutes, there is quite a good deal of it, and shown in that matter-of-fact approach that gives a clinical fascination as in any Bresson picture. But you may also notice that the film has no stars that are actual "stars", or even actors for that matter (this was Luc Simon, playing the title character, in his only screen appearance), and this was the commonality with Bresson. This is what makes Lancelot of the Lake one of Bresson's most challenging pictures even for someone who respects and admires his work ("loves" may be too strong a word to associate), since it's still taking something that is kind of a fable or legend, something a child could understand with the essentials at bedtime, and does his stripping away as in stripping away the soul to the bone, so to speak.This doesn't mean anything is taken away from the story, per-say, but it's the way he goes about it. Take the jousting tournament as a prime example. It's not shot at all in a conventional style, even if the pieces appear to be there. We get a shot of a bagpipe playing, but at an odd angle. We get maybe a shot of a knight gearing up to run. Then a cutaway to the the specific knight spectators as the joust is done off-camera. Then many shots of the horses hoofs going around, their eyes, flags waving high. It's like a puzzle that is pieced together in front of you that you can quite put together yourself. The only star of Lancelot of the Lake is Bresson himself, and goes about giving us the details of the aftermath of the failed quest for the Holy Grail with a limited scope of drama. It's about the people, but it's also about a sense of place without much hope, of a God that is cruel and dark and cold, of which Lancelot and his ilk failed to grasp a taste of from their aborted quest.So while the film drips and oozes with incredible atmosphere, and while it's filmed beautifully and the story, with some exceptions, is presented without too much pretension, it's not for a mainstream "Braveheart" kind of crowd. I don't meant this to put down the film, or even the audience. Maybe some who are more attuned to being enamored with the period and history and Arthurian mythology will gobble it up. Others may end up finding out why Monty Python struck such rich gold out of something that did, at the least, take itself seriously enough to mock. But it is a very interesting picture, one with a question or two posed to legend itself and what it amounts to. I wasn't enthralled by it as an action picture (even if a few times Bresson surprisingly does pretty well with suspense), but rather as a moral tale pulled apart, of what men who've sacrificed themselves to something already feel and do when at the whim of Lancelot or Arthur, or God. It is, and I mean this as a compliment, hauntingly ponderous.

MacAindrais Lancelot du Lac (1974) It is my contention that Robert Bresson's films are not so much films as they are philosophical essays stroked out on celluloid. They are often contemplations on the soul, usually of its destruction. His films are highly stylised in that they are without any style at all. Many of the actors he used acted in the film in which he cast them. He left out what would usually be considered key moments in a plot, making them difficult, but always fascinating. He never failed in what he tried to achieve, though that doesn't mean they were all always really that enjoyable, especially If you approach them as you would any other movie anyway. They are an acquired taste, and frankly require a certain degree of intelligence. I don't say that to sound pretentious, but to merely point out the observation that to have to think about something requires a certain amount of intelligence.In 1974 Bresson applied his philosophic sensibilities to a legendary tale. He took the famous Arthurian story of Lancelot's affair with Arthur's Queen, Guinevere. Of course, everyone knows the story, so I will not bother describing the plot so much as examine how it's executed. Bresson stripped all the lustre and romanticism from the story. Instead, he chose to emphasize the grime and cold-bloodedness. In the opening shot, he has Knights battle each other, hammering their swords against their armour until they strike flesh. Blood pours out like water from a faucet. It is a poignant gesture that Bresson begins (and ends) his film with inexplicable and horrific violence.Bresson turns ups the sounds of metal scraping on metal as the knights move around. He makes them look almost silly in their shuffling motions. Their pride is a foolish one. Instead of noblemen, Bresson shows them as petty and manipulative. They conspire to kill Lancelot, not by challenging him to a duel, but by waiting for him to exit the Queen's room where, armed or not, they declare he'll be too caught off guard to put up a fight before he is run through. Even Lancelot is ashamed, for he has returned from his quest to find the Holy Grail a failure. His trespasses with the Queen, even if it is true love, are doomed to tragedy because of foolhardy nobility.Though parts of the film take place in a castle, Bresson wastes no time with an establishing or grandiose shots. Even in battle, most scenes are reactionary. He makes it a point to show the knights lifting and closing their face masks as they speak with one another or prepare for war. The repetition somehow acts almost as satire. I think Bresson recognized the asinine behind the legendry.Lancelot du Lac was one of Bresson's most abstract films. It was in many ways an exercise in deconstruction that would have done Derrida proud. It obviously must has been quite influential. When I first saw Terrence Malick's The New World, I instantly thought that it must have been influenced in some way by Lancelot du Lac. That film stripped the story of Pocahontas and John Smith to its bare essentials - albeit not to the extent that Bresson goes, but still. There is one scene in The New World which reminded me very much of Lancelot du Lac, the one in which Smith wades through a swampy forest in his clunky armour only to be bested by the nearly nude naturals. He looks foolish trying to navigate and murky forest in such clunky attire. Now whether or not the film was an inspiration or if Malick has even seen it, I cannot confirm (though I suspect he has - his knowledge of cinema is extensive) Bresson often shows his knights gallivanting in the forest, wearing armour as a formal attire in situations that do not require it, other than to shout, "look at me, I am a Knight of King Arthur's Court!." Sure they offer some added protection, but they are still no match for death - as Bresson points out by showing us at the beginning and at the end (purposefully placed no doubt) how blood finds ways to spray from the openings and holes in plates of armour. Their armour is simply a token of their supremacy over the common man.Lancelot du Lac is Bresson's way of showing us the grandiose self-importance the Knights of King Arthur's Court presented upon themselves, and continues to be placed upon them by fairytale romanticism. When Lancelot asks for help to overcome his temptations from God, it is not for holiness or piety, but his own mortal self-preservation. Their quest for the Grail and their military victories have granted them fame and reputation. They squander what gifts they have been given to defeat one another. On one side, for the sake of Arthur against Lancelot; on the other for the sake of the Queen and Lancelot against everyone else. In the end when Lancelot concedes and returns the Queen to Arthur in exchange for her pardon, a group of Knights turn against the King at his moment of weakness. Now then Lancelot and his men return to fight for Arthur against the usurpers. It is a cycle of battle, or to be more to the point, competition. Throughout the film the Knights are preoccupied with competition in some form - jousting, declaring duels, chess, the love of the queen. They feast on an appetite of destruction.All is done in the name of Christianity in Arthur's court, but Bresson leaves much of that to subtlety. One shot of Lancelot is framed in the foreground by a crucifix, out of focus on purpose. Guinevere responds that the Knights were looking for God as a trophy - yet God is not a trophy. The Knights have simply taken Christianity as their flag in a battle for self-supremacy, not any theological quest.

Terrell-4 What to make of this movie? Blood squirts and drips from severed heads and sliced groins like thick cherry juice. Lancelot says "J'taime' to Guinevere with all the passion of a piece of cheese. As in most of Bresson's films, the acting is expressionless, but here it is emotionless. "You are alone in your pride," says Guinevere to Lancelot, while she stares at him without a trace of feeling. "Pride in what is not yours is a falsehood." "I was to bring back the Grail," he tells her. "It was not the Grail," she says, "it was God you all wanted. God is no trophy to bring home. You were all implacable. You killed, pillaged, burned. Then you turned blindly on each other. Now you blame our love for this disaster...I do not ask to love you. Is it my fault I cannot live without you? I do not live for Arthur." Guinevere is austere and relentless. And Lancelot? "Poor Lancelot," one character says, "trying to stand his ground in a shrinking world." It's been two years since Arthur sent his knights on a quest for the Holy Grail. Now, exhausted, defeated, at odds with each other, their numbers severely reduced by disease and fighting, the remnants have returned. Lancelot saw in a dream that he must renounce his love for Arthur's queen, but Guinevere will have none of that. Mordred lurks in the shadows, hinting and insinuating. Before long, the knights have chosen sides. A few will stand with Lancelot in defense of Guinevere. The rest will stand...not with Arthur, but with Mordred. Bresson has taken the Arthurian legend and turned it into a tale of hopeless pessimism. If you don't care for spoilers, read no further. How hopeless? Nearly everyone dies except Guinevere. There is no Robert Goulet in paper mache armor singing "If Ever I Should Leave You," no Nicol Williamson urging Arthur to do the right thing. It's difficult to say who is the more pig-headed...Guinevere for adamantly refusing to release Lancelot from his vows of love, or Lancelot later deciding that love is all. By the time they realize that Guinevere must return to Arthur, it's far too late. The legend of Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot, and of Mordred and Gawain, is emotional and powerful. Bresson takes it and squeezes it down until it is nearly wrung dry. Loyalties are as much based on self-interest and delusion as on true fealty. Love is as selfish as it is consuming. There's no room for hope, or even noble tragedy, in Bresson's version of the myth. Making the movie even more difficult to access is the Bresson style. Even in the most charged moments, the characters speak in a monotone. Bresson's penchant for amateurs and a flat style of delivery can work wonders in some of his movies (just look at Au Hasard Balthazar), but here everything is just flat. The photography is fascinating -- particularly the tournament sequence; all close-ups of the sides of galloping horses, just the legs of the knights, the sound of lances crashing into armor -- but it also is self-conscious. More than once I caught myself thinking, "Wow, this shot is sure pure Bresson." That may do much for cineastes appreciating an auteur director; I'm not sure it does much, in this case, to advance the emotions of the story. And yet, the film picks up a lot of steam. The last half hour is a beautiful, powerful picture of pointlessness. Mordred and his followers are going to usurp Arthur. Lancelot and his followers will ride for Arthur. And we see a shot of a riderless horse galloping through the forest, then a cut to a knight on the ground bleeding to death, then yeoman in trees firing arrows, then the sequence again, and again, and again. No music, just the twang of arrows, the sound of hooves, the muted clanking of armor. And then we see a pile of dead and dying knights. There's no winsome little boy to carry the tale of Camelot this time. On balance, I enjoyed the pessimism, the rhythm of the movie and some of the sequences. The film is worth seeing, but I just don't think this is one of Bresson's successes.

PTA-fan At the very heart of Lancelot du Lac (1974), Robert Bresson places a single, resonant shot: Lancelot (Luc Simon) comes through a door and approaches a crucifix in the foreground of the shot, slightly out of focus. "Lord, do not forsake us. Do not forsake me", he says, confiding, "I struggle against a death worse than death. Deliver me from a temptation I can hardly resist." God does not respond; Bresson does. A true cinematographic master, Bresson would never have left the crucifix out of focus by accident; it remains so only with distinct purposefulness. In their relentless crusade for the Holy Grail, the Knights of the Round Table abandoned the teachings of the Lord they claimed to serve. Lancelot's true focus is not on the cross, but on himself.In the film's prologue, the knights are shown killing and pillaging unrepentantly. The sequence is highly stylised to emphasize the brazen immorality of their actions. Perhaps the quest began as a noble one but, in Bresson's view, the actual outcome was anything but. Yet the knights remain wholly unaware of the nature of their plight. They question whether God has forsaken them; never do they realize it was they who first forsook God. The will of the Round Table grew too strong, its knights too forceful. As the soothsayer at the film's opening predicts, "He whose footfalls precede him will die within a year." Artus (Vladimir Antolek), Lancelot and their compatriots attained more power than even they could wield, their legend and renown overshadowing their mere being. Indeed, Bresson considers their actions an affront to God himself. The knights became too dominant to abide humble, Christian lives, instead they transmuted the nature of the religion to meet their own purposes. As Guinevère (Laura Duke Condominas) reprimands Lancelot, "It was not the Grail, it was God you all wanted. God is no trophy to bring home."Bresson instills this notion of transmutation in the core of the film. Particular attention should be paid to the picture's climactic battle scene. Being a Bresson film, this is of course a misnomer: the scene is neither climactic nor focused on battle. The inherent intrigue provided by such scenes bores Bresson, who instead focuses on a separate meaning. Archers fire arrows; not one is shown hitting anyone. Consider what Bresson does show the arrows piercing: trees. The film returns to this sight on multiple occasions, using repetition to emphasize the images' meaning. Yet depicting arrows piercing tree bark is far more than commentary on man's destruction of the environment. Consider that these arrows are crafted from the wood of these very trees. As Bresson sees it, man has transmuted the trees' nature – from bearers of life to harbingers of death – to suit his own self-interest. Apply a similar notion to the knights' treatment of Christianity and Bresson's vision begins to come into focus.Yet the film's ideas about transmutation of the innate extend beyond the mere implementation of Christian thought, down to the nature of man himself. Consider Bresson's fascination with the knights' armour, highlighted by its strangely overt presence on the soundtrack. Armour is used to shield, but not solely to ward off physical harm. The knights wear their armour in a subconscious effort to separate themselves from the frailty of corporeal existence. Arrogance has led them to believe their import has grown beyond that of the common man; continually wearing armour functions to further suggest this perceived disparity.Finding clear distinction between themselves and the everyday peasant, the knights tire of their daily routine. It seems they are aroused only by the chance to satiate their common appetite for competition. The scene immediately prior to the deadly, final battle is perhaps even more important than the climax itself. Informed that Mordred (Patrick Bernard) has taken the castle, Lancelot, Artus and the surviving knights mount their horses to meet their adversary in battle. The air bristles with excitement, evidenced by Bresson's uncharacteristically quick cutting. One by one, each knight closes the visor on his helmet. This ritualistic preparation is not shown to titillate the viewer. As the knights close their visors, the viewer loses sight of their faces, hallmarks of their individuality. This represents the last time Bresson shows any human countenances in the film. As a group, the remaining knights ride off to certain death, quelling individual qualms each likely has about the relevance of their actions. Of all Lancelot du Lac's transmutations, perhaps Bresson finds this most resonant: man's strange compulsion to subjugate his most ingrained of natures, his instinct for survival, to quench an unearthy thirst for destruction.