Though only made a few years after its predecessors, César moves The Marseille Trilogy forward nearly twenty years. Marcel Pagnol takes full control this time, both writing the original screenplay and directing. The results put the film somewhat at odds with itself. Of the three movies, César is the most comfortable in its own skin, yet so much so, it’s also a little too easy with itself and thus less realized, and at times even borders on self-parody when Pagnol is clearly pushing to deliver more of what everyone liked about Marius and Fanny [review].
The primary cast returns for this go-around, including
Fernard Charpin as Panisse, the older sail maker who married Fanny (Orane
Demazis) and accepted her son with Marius (Pierre Fresnay), Césariot, as his own.
André Fouché (Playtime [review]) joins the film as the
grown-up Césariot, and we are introduced to the boy as he returns home to visit
Panisse on his deathbed. At the urging of the local priest (Thommeray), Fanny
tells her son the truth about his parentage, stoking a curiosity in him. Who is
this Marius, and why has he hardly been spoken of? And why doesn’t he have a
relationship with his father, César (Raimu), who has been Césariot’s godfather
this whole time?
Choice is an important driver in The Marseille
Trilogy, and the choices made in Marius and
Fanny come to consequence in César.
Marius is justifiably upset by decisions that were made without his being kept
in mind, but he also has to reckon with his willingness to go along. We find
out that he and César fell out, and the older man has to wrestle with his
decision to put his grandson ahead of his own child. And Fanny has to answer to
Césariot for the years of deception. Not to mention Marius’ broken heart.
As is to be expected, Pagnol’s script really shines when it
focuses on his principle characters in deep conversation. The past is scoured
and hurt feelings exposed, and there is something compelling about listening to
adults dig into actual emotions this way. They are unreliable and inconsistent
in their expression, as most people are, and the flaws make them all the more
real. Far less natural are the light-hearted scenes of César and his friends
spending idle time together; a highlight of the first two films, they feel a
little forced here.
Pagnol’s direction suffers from some of the stiffness of the
early sound era, despite freeing his narrative from the stage origins of the
first two films. His framing and the staging can be a little obvious, and the
camera movements occasionally clumsy. Pagnol inherits less of the smooth hand
of Marius-director Alexander Korda, and more of the realism
of Fanny’s Marc Allégret. In fact, in a lot of ways,
César feels like early Neorealism, with the film having an
overall natural look and making use of the seaside locations to an even greater
extent than Fanny.* It makes for an interesting mix, since
much of the plot here, with Césariot visiting his father incognito and Marius’
business partner filling the boy with lies about their supposed life of crime,
borrows from traditional comedies of error. This juxtaposition works incredibly
well, with the tone being reminiscent of some of Jean Renoir’s best work.
Smartly, the auteur leans into the lighter side for his
ending, making César a fine cap to the lengthy trilogy.
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