52 Films by Women Vol 8. 15. Jeanne du Barry (Director: Maïwenn)
When it comes to
French history, I confess to regnal ignorance. Why so many Louis when two is
enough? (‘Louie Louie’, sung by The Kingsmen.) I am grateful to
writer-director-star Maïwenn
for introducing me to Louis XV (1710-1774), as portrayed in her film Jeanne du Barry, a lavish spectacle in which the titular
courtesan enchants the King in pre-revolutionary France. I also appreciated the
exchange, ‘This is barbaric.’ ‘No, this is Versailles’, which counts as so bad
it’s … bad. At one time, French films split the credit between scenario and
dialogues. Here, among the screenwriters Maïwenn, Teddy Lussi-Modeste and Nicholas Livecchi, no one takes
responsibility. But then there isn’t much dialogue, which works to the film’s
advantage.
Writers such as Moliere
have spoilt us. We expect wit from French costume dramas. Here, we just get fashion
– nouvelle Vogue rather than French New Wave. At one point, Jeanne (Maïwenn) attracts the comment, ‘she’s let her
hair down’. No, she’s let us all down.
Films released in
the UK come with a spoiler, namely an announcement of the film’s classification
(‘U’, ‘PG’, ‘15’ or ‘18’) and a description of what we can expect. In the case
of Jeanne du Barry rated 15, we were cued for sex and nudity.
There is only one sex scene, where the thrusting occurs off camera, and no naked
flesh. Jeanne wears a night dress when she sits in a tin bath, not just in one
scene, but in two. Seriously, it’s cold in there. I was happy that the film was
coy. This is a film that is ambivalent about a world in which a sixty-year-old
man can take a young woman – or as many young women as he likes – as his lover,
to dismiss as convention allows. Why would the King have a bookshelf in his bed
chamber when he is not particularly well-read? Second spoiler: there is a
secret door, just like in a Scooby
Doo episode. And he would have
gotten away with it if it wasn’t for that middling smallpox.
The coyness is
understandable. Aged fifteen, Maïwenn
was wooed by and later married (aged 16) a French director, Luc Besson, who
reportedly based Natalie Portman’s character in Leon on his young
bride. The marriage didn’t last as Besson moved on to Milla Jovovich, whom he
cast in The Fifth Element. Maïwenn became a film director – Jeanne
du Barry is her sixth film. Her
directorial debut, Pardonnez
Moi, was released in 2006. She
followed it with All About
Actresses, Polisse, Mon Roi and DNA, the latter
released in 2020. In an interview, Maïwenn described how she felt a connection to Jeanne. Just as the young Maïwenn was pushed into acting by her mother, so
Jeanne, an ardent reader who was expelled from a convent for consuming more
than one book, was coaxed by her mother into being a courtesan. Jeanne made
good on her exploitation, taking the advice, ‘at least get a house’. However, in
1893, four years after the French Revolution, Jeanne was on the wrong end of a
guillotine.
The film’s most
controversial aspect is Maïwenn’s
decision to cast Johnny Depp as Louis XV. It is actually in keeping with Jeanne’s
spirit in upsetting French society. Choosing an American to embody the loins of
France? That’s enough to make students of etiquette to say, ‘all’s fair in love
and Camembert’. Depp speaks French competently, his ex-partner is French singer
Vanessa Paradis, and he is more at home here than in Chocolat, the Franglais travesty in which she starred opposite Juliette Binoche,
who was the chief disruptor of convention in the film adaptation of Joanne
Harris’ beloved novel. At the time of casting, Depp was persona non grata
in Hollywood, whilst in the midst of suing his ex-wife, Amber Heard, for
defamation. Depp was the star of the lucrative Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. He had
excelled in numerous films for director Tim Burton (Edward Scissorhands,
Charlie and the Chocolate
Factory and Alice in Wonderland) giving a series of eccentric performances
that transcended cartoonish caricature. Having modelled his most iconic
character, Captain Jack Sparrow on musician Keith Richards, Depp has always
been a bit rock and roll, but also a blank, a Chaplinesque figure in the
romantic drama, Benny &
Joon, a little lost, as if
unsure about the purpose of his career. When Depp starred opposite Marlon
Brando in the film Don Juan De
Marco, he found his mirror
image, a talented man somewhat ashamed of what he represented, a bum who took
the short end money.
Depp portrays Louis
XV as a ruler somewhat disconnected from his obligation to appear in court.
Louis XV is defined by his desire and also, Jeanne is advised, by a convention
that no one should turn his back on him. It is inferred that this is a mark of disrespect.
There is modest levity in Depp’s performance but no insouciance and certainly
no lasciviousness. If you are expecting a sexy romp, you will be disappointed.
Maïwenn cast Depp knowing that he is a damaged
brand, no longer a bankable movie star in a post ‘Me Too’ world. He is also the
equivalent of royalty, the man of a thousand selfies. Would he still exude
mischief? Depp is mindful. The majority of his scenes are with women, either
with Jeanne or with his daughters, a trio of harpies with alarmist hairdos that
wouldn’t be out of place in a John Waters’ picture. Louis XV’s youngest daughter,
Louise (Capucine Valmary), is less rude. She has a hunchback and retires to a
convent when Jeanne moves into the Palace of Versailles. Quel dommage. She
and Jeanne could have been friends.
As a director, Maïwenn holds shots longer than necessary, as in
an early scene when young Jeanne (Emma Kaboré Dufour) is being sketched by an older man while a voiceover sets the
scene. There is no dialogue. The camera is at a distance. In the world of the
film, pictures rather than words are important. We are told that as a teenager,
Jeanne liked to read books and we are shown the adolescent Jeanne (Loli Bahia) sitting
on a rock in the middle of a stream hunched over a novel as the water flows by.
The sound of the water is slightly louder than you’d expect, competing with the
(male) voiceover, but again highlights image over words. The most dramatic
moment in the film’s early part is Jeanne’s ejection from the convent, as if
she had been caught with a boy rather than not reading the Bible. Undoubtedly staying amongst nuns would have
led to a catechismic event. However, in France in the 1760s, there aren’t many
careers for women. We see the adult Jeanne crawling in a white dress over a
long dining table, feeding cream to a man. Maïwenn doesn’t look entirely comfortable in front of the camera. Jeanne’s
behaviour isn’t care-free. Her enthusiasm seems fake. Maïwenn’s Jeanne doesn’t know desire or love,
only survival. However, she knows her own value – and her own place. Jeanne du Barry serves an interesting companion piece to
Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla. Both are about young women who are trapped
in a rich man’s palace with limited room for manoeuvre. Indeed, Coppola’s
second film, Marie Antoinette, focussed on the French court of Louis XV’s
son. Marie Antoinette (Pauline Pollman) appears in Maïwenn’s film.
Jeanne becomes the
lover of Jean-Baptiste du Barry (Melvil Poupaud), although his enthusiasm for
her fluctuates. However, she becomes his means for social advancement after
Jeanne is admitted to Versailles amongst the well-dressed throng and captures
the attention of the King. Louis XV doesn’t say much but he welcomes her with
his eyes more than he does the commoner who petitions him to free his son mere
seconds before. Jeanne can only become the King’s courtesan if she is married
and therefore technically unavailable and only if her husband has a title.
Through the King’s unspoken patronage, Jean-Baptiste becomes the Comte du Barry.
Jeanne is married and meets the selection criteria.
‘Put on a dress. Get
your hair done,’ Jeanne’s mother (Marianne Basler) tells her when Jeanne
receives the regal booty call. ‘I’ll go as I am,’ Jeanne replies. The inference
is that she knows that her clothes won’t matter much. As she leaves the house,
she is draped in a thick hooded cloak. ‘What’s this for?’ she asks. ‘You
mustn’t be recognised. It is the convention.’ It is just as well she didn’t fix
her hair.
Before intimacy with
the King, there is the examination. Remembering
the film Passion Fish,
I half-expected Jeanne to
exclaim, ‘I wasn’t expecting the regnal probe’ - but of course, she would.
Instead, she half-offers herself to Louis XV’s trusted aide, La Borde (Benjamin
Lavernhe). ‘Don’t you want to try me? I’ve heard that’s what you do,’ Jeanne
says provocatively. ‘No,’ La Borde replies, barely suppressing irritation. The
purpose of the examination is to ensure that the King does not contract a
sexually transmitted disease, which back in 18th century royal
circles I understood to be inbreeding. Jeanne passes the test, though she would
have preferred a written. Then she receives the instruction to never turn her
back on the King, rather retreat with small obsequious steps whilst continuing
to face him. ‘The only person not required to do so is the Dauphin,’ La Borde
advises her, referring to the King’s son, the future Louis XVI. However in the
King’s company, after helping herself to a strawberry and taking an interest in
the royal bust – a sculpture of Louis XV’s head as a child rather than a bad
hand at cards – Jeanne can’t do the backward walking thing. She puts her hands
on the sculpture’s cheeks, as if caressing His Majesty. ‘It’s you as a child.’
‘Yes,’ Louis XV confirms. Now it is time to press the royal flesh.
Table for One? Still courtesy of Vertical Releasing (US)
Cut to the next day
– for we know such love scenes would be tasteless. Jeanne is naked under a
sheet. ‘It is time to go,’ La Borde tells her without knocking. ‘But what about
my dress?’ Jeanne pleads, glancing at the frame standing in the middle of the room.
‘Now,’ La Borde insists. The moment of awkwardness turns to one of amusement
as, having thrown on some sort of white tunic thing, Jeanne is hustled into a
room and watches the King wake up and put on his robe. There is a thump. A
court official announces, ‘The Royal Family.’ In troop three of his daughters.
Standing behind them are a mass of people awaiting an audience with the
unwashed King. Jeanne is amused, at the same time realising that the King is as
much a show-pony as she is.
The strength of the
film is the portrayal of court rituals. In its own way, Jeanne du Barry is spectacular and makes excellent use of
filming on location in the Palace of Versailles, one of the perks of living in
a Republic. One scene features a round table filmed from above at which the
King takes part in a banquet to welcome the afore-mentioned Marie Antoinette,
whose marriage to the Dauphin, we are told, will unite the Kingdoms of France
and Germany. Maïwenn isn’t interested in
the exercise of power, rather how women negotiate their place within a
circumscribed structure. Thus she doesn’t reinforce the idea that the King was
somehow important and necessary. He is stylish, but also a poor moral example
who would do better to be discrete.
Three of his
daughters, Adélaïde (the splendidly named India Hair),
Victoire (Suzanne de Baecque) and Sophie (Laura le Velly) spend the entire film
expressing their disapproval, ensuring that Jeanne is shunned and where
possible humiliated. At one point, Louis XV goes over to their table, leans
over and stares at them. The King says nothing, but the princesses are made to
feel that they have crossed a line and should not do so again. The King’s
silent stare is by way of not humiliating them in public with words, which
could be quoted, but also in keeping with the film’s style. Depp is not given
any long speeches to recite and that, we sense, is probably for the best.
The film veers into
interesting territory when Jeanne is presented with the gift of a young African
boy, Zamor (Ibrahim Yaffa) who is dressed in fine clothes and recites poetry.
Zamor becomes Jeanne’s surrogate brother. Jeanne protects the boy from the ire
of Adélaïde, Victoire and Sophie. The princesses have
reason to be aggrieved. Jeanne does not appear to mourn the death of their
mother. They wear black. Jeanne does not. It is only after her mother’s death
that Louise (the hunchback daughter) goes to a convent.
‘Jeanne remained in
Versailles for four years,’ the voiceover tells us, scandalising society in the
process, at one point wearing the same outfit worn by the King. ‘She’s dressed
as a man,’ someone remarks. At another point, she wears stripes. When she appears
at the banquet for Marie Antoinette, she wears a long white dress with a train,
the latter foregrounded through the overhead camera angle. Marie Antoinette is
advised to be a rival to style icon Jeanne, in order to win over the court.
Jeanne needs Marie Antoinette to acknowledge her but the princesses don’t allow
this to happen. Women pitted against other women; so 21st Century. Just
when Jeanne thinks she will be spoken to, Marie Antoinette turns her attention
to a pug. At a point when Jeanne is about lose hope, Marie Antoinette remarks
to her how Versailles is crowded today. Jeanne runs to the King in delight,
interrupting a very important meeting. ‘She spoke to me!’ she cries. ‘Nine
words that saved Jeanne,’ the voiceover tells us.
Louis XV was
sixty-four when he contracted smallpox. He was not faithful to Jeanne. There is
a brief scene in which another woman leaves his bed chamber. ‘Tastes change,’
La Borde remarks. Jeanne is told that she has to leave and packs up the
expensive necklace that the King gave her. She bids goodbye, much to the
princesses’ delight, heading for her carriage, then runs back to the palace. ‘I
must say my last goodbye,’ she exclaims. ‘You already have.’ The Dauphin (Diego
Le Fur) allows her to do so. ‘You’ve always been good to me,’ Jeanne replies.
Jeanne tells the King that she loves him. ‘Finally,’ says Louis XV, face full
of lesions, comic timing intact. He tells her that he loves her as well. As she
departs a second time, this time without a crash-zoom, the voiceover describes
her fate.
Having opened the
Cannes Film Festival in May 2023, Jeanne
du Barry grossed the Euro
equivalent of $13.6 million, Maïwenn’s
second most successful film after Polisse. It was criticised for being dull and
listless. However, its stylisation accentuates the themes of the film and works
to the drama’s benefit. Nevertheless, the so-called love story lacks emotional
impact. The candle representing the king’s life is blown out. Then we hear the
cry heralding the start of Louis XVI’s reign, the one that ends with the French
Revolution. Maïwenn’s film is stubbornly
agnostic towards politics. She does not critique Louis XV’s unfaithfulness
because she portrays from it from the point of view of a beneficiary. Even
though Jeanne’s notoriety caused her to be executed; Maïwenn does not portray her as a victim in
waiting. What the viewer takes away from the film is opulence. We’re not
completely seduced by it, but we see its wow factor. As for Depp, the film
doesn’t exonerate him or celebrate his enduring appeal. It shows him in the
service of a filmmaker rather than trying to delight us. In that sense, he is
humble, an interesting contrast to the spectacle around him.
Reviewed at Vue Finchley Road (Screen 10), North London, Friday 19 April 2024, 16:50 screening
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