La Souriante Madame Beudet/The Smiling Madame Beudet (1922)

Country: France

Released: 1922

Genre: Drama

Directed by: Germaine Dulac

Produced by: Charles Delac

Written by: André Obey

Well this was a nice change of pace. La Souriante Madame Beudet is not a grandiose film. It's not big in scale or has that many characters. It isn't even all that long, with the longest version I could find clocking in at just under forty minutes.

What it is though is good.

Really, really good.

The story follows the titular Madame Beudet (Germaine Dermoz), a dissatisfied housewife married to  a wealthy oaf (Alexandre Arquillière). Because of its surprisingly short running time not a whole lot happens story wise, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in effective storytelling. Monsieur Beudet stifles his wife's creative outlets, namely her piano playing, and whenever she seems melancholic or dissatisfied he pulls an empty revolver out of his desk and threatens to commit suicide. He's made this threat so often that its lost most of its power and she simply shrugs it off. One night Monsieur Beudet is invited to the opera. When the Madame refuses to join him he threatens to kill himself again before belittling her, and locking up the piano. That night while he's away Madame Beudet's depression reaches its boiling point and begins hallucinating about her husband. In a desperate attempt to free herself from him she loads his revolver in the hopes that he'll kill himself during one of his episodes. The next morning she has a change of heart and tries to secretly unload it but is discovered by her husband, who puts the gun up to his temple again. She panics and he accidentally shoots a window. Shocked at the loaded gun he rushes to comfort her, thinking she was trying to kill herself, and declares his undying love for her.

That's it. Nothing is really learned. Nothing is resolved. And all the characters kind of end up where they started. 

And that's what makes it so perfect.

The movie feels like a Sylvia Plath poem. Dermoz is great as Beudet, with her initial performance being that of a demure, slightly depressed housewife. Every smile is small and, while sincere, expresses a complacent sadness. As the film progresses and the husband becomes more belligerent so does her misery. She becomes overtaken by it, slowly descending into madness until she starts hallucinating. However it never strays into the absurd. You legitimately feel for this character and for the situation she's been forced in. Her husband is an absolute cretin and a slob, but he's not evil, he's just a dick. In the end, like in Körkarlen he does fear for her wellbeing. But its not a happy ending by any means. No one dies but no one grows either, at least not that we see. Perhaps it is implied that the suicide scare improves his attitude towards his wife but I don't think that's the intention. It is still a loveless marriage, at least from her point of view, and she is still dissatisfied. More bittersweet than satisfying, the ending helps drive home the point that there is little our protagonist can do. She is trapped.

Much like Körkarlen depth is found in Madame Beudet subtleties. These are real people. There is no Doctor Mabuse or Karamzin to point to as 'the bad guy.' These are both equally shitty, equally sympathetic characters. I wish there was more to say, but it is a short film. However even that feels like a positive in this case. There's an skillful economy of storytelling on display that other films like Dr. Mabuse or Les Vampires could learn from. It's just long enough to establish the characters, the conflict, display a brief arch, and have an effective ending. No scene feels superfluous or out of place, everything feels like it has a well-calculated purpose. Of all the films I've seen so far it is probably the closest that comes to being flawless. Does that make it my favourite? No, Dr. Calagari still probably holds that distinction. But it is a damn fine film, and well worth the time.