Film

Few things are more depressing than watching a great artist stumble spectacularly, especially if the filmmaker in question is well into his autumn years. Though Eric Rohmer’s track record has its share of imperfections, even his past lesser efforts far surpass this adaptation of Honoré d’Urfé’s 1607 novel, which goes from mere bad choice to embarrassing clunker. While the director has never had a problem finding a pulse within historical pageantry (see Perceval or The Lady and the Duke), the book’s 5th-century landscape of nymphs, druids and lute-playing roustabouts is an ill fit for Rohmer’s strengths. Community-college theater troupes have rendered broad burlesques with more skill.

You can still find the odd moment of grace in this story of Celadon (Gillet), who, after being rejected by his beloved Astrea (Crayencour), flings himself into the river and is rescued by smitten sprites. Yet a lovely pastoral shot or a brief spark of passion is soon washed away by a stiltedness that infects everything; once Celadon dresses as a woman to win back his soul mate, the film heads straight into Benny Hill territory. There are rumors that Romance may be the 88-year-old’s last movie. Let’s pray that it isn’t.