Robert Bresson

Pickpocket (1959)

Michael is this mysterious loner who decides picking pockets is a better career move than actually working. His hands are basically what drive his moral decay—which is pretty different from how Fontaine's hands lead him toward freedom—and ultimately land him in custody. At some point, Michael tells his friend Jacques that... I guess you're looking for me. What's up? We can't truly grasp what it feels like to be behind bars; it's just beyond us. Through that single idea, Bresson is actually talking about his own confinement during World War II. While Jean quite Fontaine eventually gets his freedom because he worked for it, Michael finds a kind of freedom within his imprisonment—it’s a chance at redemption, and Joan's kiss on his hands will ultimately wash away his sins. The style is incredibly meticulous and minimalist. These cold performances he gives his actors (especially Michael's outburst against the police inspector in Michael's "den") are super cerebral and don't always land. Still, it's not quite the Bresson I love, like in Mouchette, but it's pretty fascinating how he just completely ignores the backgrounds, the boulevards, the squares, or any architecture at all.

Diary of a Country Priest (1951)

Bresson uses > as a confession, diving into his most intimate, raw, and meticulous details. But maybe truth works like an old relic—the second you dig it up, it starts turning to dust. Once the diary's secrets are out, they lose that sacred weight and just feel... profane, I guess. The priest's holiness basically burns up along with the book itself; it’s how Bresson builds the story, by having the confessor himself undergo the confession. It's powerful stuff. The direction is bold, and honestly, the small details pretty much tell the whole movie...

L'Argent (1983)

If money is this visible, present god—as some convict sharing a cell with our main (anti)heroine Yvona might put it—then Bresson's protagonists are basically just believers sacrificing themselves for that deity. That whole theme of being trapped is everywhere, both metaphorically and literally, which keeps driving Yvona toward sin. I guess she does it because she’s convinced that once this fake god is shoved in her face, her innocence will be sacrificed (not that we've forgotten which god we're actually talking about here). But honestly, it all feels like a setup for the end, where the family "hosting" her meets a classic Bresson-style fate. Defeat is the ultimate victory, right? Like that housewife from the family says, if she were God, she’d forgive everyone. It's a pretty confusing flick, maybe even more so since it was his last...

The Story of Adele H. (1969)

A young college girl ends it all by jumping off a balcony. There's this shot of her white scarf fluttering over her body on the street, which I guess is supposed to symbolize her innocence or whatever. The movie basically reconstructs everything that led her to that point. It’s almost like an autopsy—of the soul, maybe?—conducted by her husband while he talks to their housekeeper. He actually owns a pawn shop where she first walked in. He offers her the world just to marry him, but once they're hitched, he thinks he actually owns her, and things just spiral. She starts noticing how trapped she is, and his jealousy combined with her being unpredictable leads to them totally drifting apart. By the time he realizes he was wrong about women being possessions and that you can't demand love without giving it, she’s already hit total disillusionment because she was looking for an end. He tries to offer a new beginning, but she ends up having to sacrifice herself. Technique-wise, this is the director's first color film. The mise-en-scène is pretty sparse, and those meticulously framed shots leave you feeling kind of bitter. That final shot really elevates the whole thing, even if I think Robert Bresson isn't exactly at his peak here... especially with that five-minute theater scene of Hamlet that the couple watches. He’s clearly trying to distance the film from the stage, but since the story itself is so theatrical, it doesn't quite land for me.

A For Balthazar (1966)

Honestly, the movie didn't hit me as hard as I expected it to. People always talk about how deeply emotional it is—I mean, in the Iñárritu segment from Chacun son cinéma, there's a girl who actually breaks down in tears while watching it—but to me, it felt incredibly cold. Maybe too cold, if you ask me. That said, you have to respect the way he experimented with the actors; having them repeat scenes 20 to 50 times until all the emotion is stripped away adds this surreal, almost fabricated dimension to the whole thing. Also, young Anne Wiazemsky was a total standout; she really saved the film for me. Perhaps only Isabelle Adjani in The Story of Adele H. has ever shown that kind of similar innocence and sensitivity in a performance.

Pacificist said:I only saw it once, during a Robert Bresson retrospective at the local independent cinema. I walked out thinking, "Mouchette; wow, Mouchette," only to find out much later that someone—I think it was Ingmar Bergman—was asked his opinion on "Mouchette" and simply replied, "Mouchette? Ahh, Mouchette." 😁
I'm telling you the truth, honestly.

For me, it actually felt worse than when I first watched it. I don't get much out of this film, so it’s just a 7 out of 10 for me.

And Bergman is a terrible film critic.

Douglas Robinson12 As specified by:
If you ask me, based purely on memory—if you just don't "get" Bresson, then you aren't really getting cinema at all.
It really just comes down to knowing where to start. *Pickpocket* and *A Condemned Man Escaped or The Wind* are essentially "Bresson for Beginners"—though I have to admit, that first one remains one of my absolute all-time favorites. Then there is *A For Balthazar*, which is pure cinematic perfection; it’s the kind of film that could break even a heart of stone, much like *Mouchette* or *Diary of a Country Priest*. I'll be honest, though—there are some of his later works that I haven't quite managed to fully wrap my head around, such as *The Devil Probably*. That said, *L'Argent* is also excellent, serving as a great standout from his final period in the early '80s.

I sign off on this from start to finish, though I haven't sat down with L'Argent yet.

I’ve actually just started really diving into his work over the last month or so... So far, I’ve checked out Mouchette, L'Argent, and The Trial of Joan of Arc. It’s pretty obvious how much that minimalism influenced later directors like Jim Jarmusch or Aki Kaurismäki, but for me personally, some parts feel a little unfinished... maybe because of that exact style, I don't know...

I really loved Mouchette... though L'Argent didn't quite hit the same way for me. As for The Trial of Joan of Arc, I wasn't exactly blown away—if I'm being honest... maybe I should've started with some of his other stuff instead? But hey, no regrets! I'm still planning to dive deeper into his work over the next few months... more to come!

silentpuma7 said:Diary of a Country Priest (1951)

Bresson uses > as a confession, diving into his most intimate, raw, and meticulous details. But maybe truth works like an old relic—the second you dig it up, it starts turning to dust. Once the diary's secrets are out, they lose that sacred weight and just feel... profane, I guess. The priest's holiness basically burns up along with the book itself; it’s how Bresson builds the story, by having the confessor himself undergo the confession. It's powerful stuff. The direction is bold, and honestly, the small details pretty much tell the whole movie...

This is truly a perfect film.

Watch it once, and it stays etched in your mind forever.

I guess *Diary of a Country Priest* and *Pickpocket* are probably his best films.

He was such an influential director, too! I guess you could say his minimalist style really paved the way for guys like Jim Jarmusch and Aki Kaurismäki, among others.

I guess his style feels a little bit like the Japanese master Yasujirō Ozu in certain parts.

Just finished watching Pickpocket. Seriously good. The atmosphere, those clever plot turns, the way the camera moves... Honestly, it’s easily the best thing I’ve seen from Bresson so far, and I definitely plan on diving deeper into his work soon.

Those close-up shots during the meticulously planned thefts? Pure mastery. That scene where the woman pulls out her purse while buying tickets—absolutely priceless.

Just starting this thread to let the locals and anyone passing through town these days know that a Bresson retrospective kicked off yesterday over at the local cinema near Tuškanac. It runs until Wednesday, so it’s a great chance to catch most of his work on the big screen. 🙂

I actually caught A Condemned Man Escaped yesterday. It’s an interesting way to shoot a film, though I can't say it totally clicked for me on the first watch. 🙂

I'm really curious to see how I'll feel about Pickpocket. A friend of mine saw it last year and told me she found it pretty boring. 😁

Morgan Brown4 said:Just starting this thread to let the locals and anyone passing through town these days know that a Bresson retrospective kicked off yesterday over at the local cinema near Tuškanac. It runs until Wednesday, so it’s a great chance to catch most of his work on the big screen. 🙂

I actually caught A Condemned Man Escaped yesterday. It’s an interesting way to shoot a film, though I can't say it totally clicked for me on the first watch. 🙂

I'm really curious to see how I'll feel about Pickpocket. A friend of mine saw it last year and told me she found it pretty boring. 😁

Interesting and really good, but in my book, it doesn't quite hit that all-time great status. I don't see anything groundbreakingly impressive about the whole thing.

Morgan Brown4 said:Just starting this thread to let the locals and anyone passing through town these days know that a Bresson retrospective kicked off yesterday over at the local cinema near Tuškanac. It runs until Wednesday, so it’s a great chance to catch most of his work on the big screen. 🙂

I actually caught A Condemned Man Escaped yesterday. It’s an interesting way to shoot a film, though I can't say it totally clicked for me on the first watch. 🙂

I'm really curious to see how I'll feel about Pickpocket. A friend of mine saw it last year and told me she found it pretty boring. 😁

Also being 👍

The key to Bresson's style is transcendentalism. While he presents the raw action, he forces the viewer to use their imagination to figure out the "why" behind it. For instance, you find yourself wondering why the protagonist in Pickpocket avoids visiting his sick mother. It operates on an ironic, yet brilliant philosophy: if you bore the audience enough, they become deeply engaged. I actually had to watch Pickpocket twice to fully reconcile with his uncompromising methodology, and even now, I'm struggling to put the experience of watching a Bresson film into words.

I first saw A Condemned Man Escaped about 15 years ago; I liked it then, but the impact was definitely stronger after watching it yesterday. Personally, I think Becker's https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054407/ is the best prison movie ever made. Forget Shawshank or Midnight Express—The Hole is on Olympus. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

Man, it’s good to see some fellow cinephiles hanging out here. 👍 Do you get out to the theater (relatively) often? Maybe we’ve even bumped into each other before...

I was there yesterday too. Out of the three films I've seen so far, Balthazar is definitely my favorite. L'Argent was solid, too, but honestly, I was starting to fade a bit. Watching Robert Bresson in a room without AC during these nasty hot summer days just isn't ideal—plus, I was running on zero sleep after waking up early for work and getting back late from the theater 😁.

I'm definitely going to check out The Hole. I'm (im)patiently waiting for the local indie theater—or some other downtown art house—to put it on the schedule so I can catch it in all its glory. 😉

I used to go more often, but nowadays I just go whenever I can manage to plan it out, though I still make several trips a year. It’s pretty easy to get there, and I actually met some people there who used to post here 👍

Balthazar is a pure emotional experience. It’s a bold idea executed with incredible discretion and skill. Perhaps only Bresson, among all filmmakers, could have made this concept work; he alone mastered the art of portraying existence in an almost abstract way while simultaneously achieving such powerful emotional impact. If the film were merely symbolic, it would feel irrelevant—and of course, Balthazar can be viewed as a symbol for many things. But Balthazar is, first and foremost, a character, the central figure of the drama. Then again, with Bresson, you never get that sense of conventional drama or cheap sentimentality. The film's very pacing helps convey Balthazar's sanctity and his persistence. It is a work that is simultaneously daring, enigmatic, and profoundly human.

Did you happen to grab some ice cream before the movie? 🤣

I actually know a couple of people from the local indie theaters who hang out on this forum too. Well, one guy I met at a screening and quickly realized was a regular here, plus one famous user—who hasn't posted much lately but is super active online as a blogger.

There’s also this one female user where it feels like she keeps showing up at the exact same screenings I am, yet we never actually meet up. 😁 At one point, I was almost positive it was her, but then she told me she hadn't even been to the theater during the days she supposedly appeared there. 🤣

Then, of course, there are those people who post later saying they were at the same screening I was, but I have zero clue who they might be. 😁

Anyway, let's get back to Bresson.

Watching Balthazar really got me thinking about what actually triggers empathy in an audience.
I realized that (at least for me) empathy comes way more from being able to actually *see* the suffering.
Because even though Balthazar gets mistreated throughout the whole film, he almost never shows that he's hurting.
A great example is that one scene where we see something leaking from Balthazar.
At first glance, I thought it was a tear falling from Balthazar's eye, and that really touched me.
Then I realized it was actually blood from his body, and honestly, that hit me a lot less hard.

Also, with that stoic way he endures pain and injustice, Balthazar reminds me quite a bit of Christ. I don't know if that's the "correct" interpretation... but I saw on Wikipedia that he's a metaphor for Christian faith, so close enough, I guess. 😁

Oh, and I watched the famous Pickpocket yesterday too.
It wasn't nearly as bad or boring as my friend claims it is—though it didn't totally click with me either. Then again, watching movies in a theater without AC during this brutal summer heatwave isn't exactly the best environment for heavy stuff; right now, I'm more in the mood for mindless, "turn your brain off" popcorn flicks. 😁

Anyway, I really liked how the film portrays pickpocketing, bringing such a relatively minor act right to the forefront (which could be considered a sort of defamiliarization?).
That train scene with the bills passing from hand to hand reminded me a little of the opening heist in Nolan's TDK. I'm curious if there's a direct influence there (since I know Nolan is influenced by directors like Bresson)...

I haven't had any ice cream yet, but you know, maybe next time 😁

You've got a great piece here https://www2.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion...-small-moments

Good catch on that metaphor for Christian faith. The only other film that hits that same level regarding that theme is Roman Polanski's Knife in Water. It's packed with just as much Christian allegory.

I’d love to catch something like A Condemned Man Escaped on the big screen, but honestly, I had a massive issue with the crowd back at the local indie theater—especially during screenings of the more demanding stuff. You had the enthusiasts, sure, but then you had the bored crowds who probably only showed up because their spouses dragged them along, secretly expecting gunfights, glamorous socialites, or some muscle-bound action stars. There were also those awkward, uninspired students just checking a box for class, but the absolute worst—the reason I rarely go there anymore—were the pseudo-intellectual types. Basically, the equivalent of Nikica's inner circle from a local community college—people who felt the need to flex their supposed brilliance by chiming in with stuff like, "Oh, look, a classic Bergman close-up," or "Handheld camera! This is totally Dogme 95, man," or "What a great wide shot, so Antonioni-esque, fits the story perfectly."

Basically, lately I’ve been watching the heavy hitters strictly within my own four walls. I’ve always felt that consuming serious cinema is an activity that demands solitude and peace—I usually satisfy my cinematic itch by hitting up screenings for thrillers or mainstream hits instead.

Nathan Murphy said:I haven't had any ice cream yet, but you know, maybe next time 😁

You've got a great piece here https://www2.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion...-small-moments

Good catch on that metaphor for Christian faith. The only other film that hits that same level regarding that theme is Roman Polanski's Knife in Water. It's packed with just as much Christian allegory.

Don't.
It's way too expensive.
Plus they charge extra for the cone. 🤣

Actually, I didn't notice the Christian metaphor myself—I just read about it later on Wikipedia. 😁 I was looking more at Balthazar as a metaphor for Christ Himself.

By the way, I've noticed that in more of Bresson's films, things tend to break or fall. I don't know if there's some deep symbolism there or if it's just a coincidence or random stuff. 🤣

Dennis Hall41 said:I’d love to catch something like A Condemned Man Escaped on the big screen, but honestly, I had a massive issue with the crowd back at the local indie theater—especially during screenings of the more demanding stuff. You had the enthusiasts, sure, but then you had the bored crowds who probably only showed up because their spouses dragged them along, secretly expecting gunfights, glamorous socialites, or some muscle-bound action stars. There were also those awkward, uninspired students just checking a box for class, but the absolute worst—the reason I rarely go there anymore—were the pseudo-intellectual types. Basically, the equivalent of Nikica's inner circle from a local community college—people who felt the need to flex their supposed brilliance by chiming in with stuff like, "Oh, look, a classic Bergman close-up," or "Handheld camera! This is totally Dogme 95, man," or "What a great wide shot, so Antonioni-esque, fits the story perfectly."

Basically, lately I’ve been watching the heavy hitters strictly within my own four walls. I’ve always felt that consuming serious cinema is an activity that demands solitude and peace—I usually satisfy my cinematic itch by hitting up screenings for thrillers or mainstream hits instead.

Those annoying groups can be a pain (I still remember the nightmare during the Stalker 2017 screening—constant munching, slurping, people walking in and out, talking, typing, phone calls, you name it), but usually they aren't enough to totally ruin the experience (except for those rare cases, like those idiots during Stalker).

I haven't heard those wannabe intellectuals during screenings, though. If anything, I'd say they're mostly academics. The few college kids I know who show up are actually pretty polite and quiet; they just sit down, watch the movie, and shut up. 😁

But then you’ve got this one big-shot member of the elite American film circles, right? She shows up to these screenings and actually uses ribbons to block off seats just so she can sit next to her guy. Then, instead of watching the movie, she spends the whole time flirting with him or just scrolling away on her phone...😠😠😠 😠