Portrait of a Lady on Fire (The Criterion Collection)

Most films I consider masterpieces or near masterpieces, I want to discuss right away. Then there are the rare ones that pull me in so deeply that I can’t even talk for a while because they’ve transcended time and trends and taken us someplace distinctly different. I regard them as classics, for they surely will be cited in years to come as illuminating examples of their genres at their best.I say this to explain that I don’t use the term lightly when I call ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ a classic romance. I’ve been waiting for this film for a very long time. We queer folk of a certain age have had to kiss many a toad in search of movies that tell our love stories well and true. We’ve found some—several even of impressive artistic achievement—but none I considered of classic status…until now. So why does that matter? For me, it says a pure romance from our perspective deserves to be spoken of in the same breath as ‘Casablanca’ or ‘A Brief Encounter’ or ‘Before Sunset’ —and not merely as a quintessential queer or lesbian or feminist love story but as a quintessential love story. In short, it says a movie exploring the passion of our kind is worthy of being called one for the ages.Unfortunately, you won’t hear vast praise for ‘Portrait’ in this country because it’s been treated as a niche film here, expected to mainly draw viewers who are queer or cosmopolitan (i.e., willing to read subtitles or seek out the small art house cinemas in metro areas). Still, ‘Portrait’ has made many critics’ top ten lists here and across the pond and beyond. A review explaining all the reasons why this film deserves such recognition would discourage most readers, so I’ll limit myself to two aspects and trust that others will comment on the rest (e.g., the stunning ensemble acting and cinematography, as well as the effective use of fire, chanting, Vivaldi and the myth of Eurydice and Orpheus).I must begin with screenwriter/director Céline Sciamma’s clarity of focus. She knew precisely the film she wanted to make, which was not about the angst of being queer or female in 1770’s France or a fantasy world where women fully control their destinies. With ‘Portrait’ she has created something of a hybrid. There’s an idyllic time-out period in an isolated spot on the coast of Brittany when love and amity are free to follow their natural courses. But there is also—through a framing device which sets the initial and final scenes in a later period—brief (but pivotal) time in the real world.‘Portrait’ speaks volumes about that real world: the physical, social, professional and economic limitations women have faced, as well as the artificiality of class boundaries and the myopia of believing art results from an artist/subject dichotomy and a rigid adherence to conventions. Nonetheless, these constraints are primarily relegated to the background...much like the way ‘Casablanca’ references Nazi Germany. Sciamma never allows the real world to taint the timeout period revealed in remembrance; it only reminds us—by contrast—that we are breathing in a rarefied atmosphere for most of the film.Two supporting characters are vital in acknowledging these real-world realities because Sciamma gave them a depth uncommon for a maid and mostly-absent parent in non-marquee roles. The servant’s narrative, in particular, could have been a subplot in lessor hands, but Sciamma merged it seamlessly with the primary story, laying a path for the sisterhood that develops among the maid, middle-class artist and noblewoman. As a result, the three briefly take turns serving and being served, based on who’s not busy or who needs assistance rather than on social station.Still, this is not the only time Sciamma confounds our expectations. She creates other unforeseen moments throughout that are felicitous yet plausible—this last factor being crucial for me, for when something feels contrived or too convenient, I am reminded this is fiction and pulled out of the story. An apt example occurs in a movie I like a lot—‘Disobedience.’ During the former lovers’ visit to the home where they had spent much intimate time, one turns on the radio and we hear The Cure singing,“Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again.” This is so blatantly on-the-nose that it mars an otherwise well-designed scene. Sciamma, fortunately, made no such blunders. In fact, her choices were often so subtle and organic I didn’t recognize their brilliance until reflecting later...or better yet, watching the film for the second time.Overall, I found Sciamma’s singular focus most evident in her dialogue, particularly when she allowed the sound of a crackling fire or heels on a wooden floor to be the prominent voice in a sequence. Just like there are no rambling or filler-transition scenes, there are no throw-away lines written to pad out a scene. Each line was chosen to enhance our insight into the situations, cultures, characters and relationships.The other aspect I’ll explore is the way the love story evolves...with patience, parity, authenticity and respect. In typical romances there’s a lover and a beloved who fall dramatically for each other early on, face obstacles from within and without (to create tension and pace), and get unclothed and uninhibited for as long/often as the desired industry rating and intended runtime allow. ‘Portrait’ proposes that love and attraction develop as individuals get to know each other—discovering habits, worries, joys, frustrations and desires—and that the most erotic life experience may be to feel truly known and seen.Many directors fear using the reveals of dialogue to create pace rather than action, but Sciamma knows it is in these small still scenes that we come to understand why the characters influence each other and become deeply connected. It sets ‘Portrait’ apart from the majority of romances I’ve seen...for while I’ve often found intrigue and attraction well established, I’ve not as often found the basis for why each lover becomes so devoted to the other. The endings, then, have sometimes felt unearned—which, definitively, is not the case for ‘Portrait’ (or ‘Call Me By Your Name,’ for that matter.)The film also shows relationships can be based on parity: one person need not love more intensely or be dominant. This is another way the film stands apart. These lovers are each other’s equivalent—the same discernment, sense of humor and delight, temperament...even age/height/physique. They face a couple of standoffs because both are so strong willed, but the discords are quickly, mutually resolved; moreover, they are not a source of structural tension. That comes from the simmering wellspring of emotions, keeping us wondering when the two will acknowledge what becomes barely contained.Further, ‘Portrait’ proves intimacy can be well conveyed through the intensity of a gaze, the urgency of an embrace, the softness of a lingering kiss and the allure of a private smile. In doing so, the film bypasses the prevalent criticism of many attempts to capture passion on screen—encouraging voyeurism. Todd Haynes (‘Carol’) and Sebastián Lelio (‘Disobedience’) deserve credit for trying to avoid that pitfall, but the sex scenes they created are unnatural: one filmed in soft focus with heads and hair swirling round and round like a van Gogh painting...artistic and stylized; the other showing ardent lovers (with access to each other and a bed for the first time in years) staying mostly clothed and upright...and looking at times like they’re warming up for a gymnastics meet.What Haynes and Lelio don’t get is that this is a no-win situation. Explicit sex scenes can’t be refined or modest yet feel unposed or honest. Nor are such scenes involving women likely to feel honest yet not exploitive: There’s too much history of women being presented as objects of desire or pleasure and lesbian sex, as kinkily titillating. Sciamma’s approach is to give the women considerable time in bed where they touch and talk tenderly, building the trust that allows them to be emotionally naked with each other. At times, they’re clothed; at others, not—just like couples naturally are in such moments. Either way, the ease of familiarity and decidedly disheveled bedsheets leave no doubt that there has been full-body contact when we weren’t around.Certainly, sex primarily through innuendo is no new concept; it was the only option available during the 30’s-50’s in Hollywood under the puritanical Hayes Code. In this case, however, it is the director’s choice and one that results in the relationship feeling all the more compelling and endearing because the lovers are allowed to have something that is all their own. It’s quite the achievement, as is the whole film. It challenges us to think outside quite a few boxes that have long dictated how something is to be done, particularly regarding what constitutes a satisfying love story and how art (as opposed to a mere painting) is created.As for what makes art transformative, we have guidance within the film, but we can also look to the film itself, for Sciamma has met her own challenge of bringing order to the whole through design, composition, tension, balance, light and harmony...and all in service of the love story. The resulting organic unity makes ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ a worthy companion to ‘Casablanca’ and other classic romances. It was—and is—worth the wait.

This was a blind buy and it did not disappoint.The movie is mega ultra instinct peak. I was worried I was gonna have to return it but man that last scene. This movie in general is amazing. So glad I picked this up!This criterion Blu-ray is pretty good and the audio sounds great, haven’t checked out the supplements yet tho so look elsewhere.Overall: 10/10, 5 Stars, Peak, Goated, any other terminology that describes how perfect this movie is

French film of an 18th century female artist, commissioned to paint a portrait of a young woman as a wedding gift to the fiance. A task made more complicated by having to start the project secretly, as the model is resistant to be painted or even married, and even more complicated as the relationship between the two evolves from reluctant friends to romantic relationship. An exceptionally classy and beautifully naturalistic period piece is surprisingly complex, yet the story and style brilliantly kept simple. Rich in quiet atmosphere of the isolated island estate, and slowly paced with much of the communication coming from facial expressions and body language. Artistic and intelligent with a strong female perspective, and memorable use of allegory as it incorporates the myth of Orpheus into the story. The artist's creation of the painting is especially impressive and remarkably authentic, truly well done (a short documentary extra is dedicated to this). An instant classic and welcome addition to Criterion Collection, this Blu Ray extras include an interviews with the director Celine Schiama (her Girlhood is also recommended, but a different type of film) and the cast, and a short documentary on the talented real-life artist. Two French films about artists also recommended: the challenging masterpiece The Beautiful Troublemaker (La Belle Noiseuse), as well as the costume drama Camille Claudel.

The Criterion Collection DVD version of Portrait of a Lady on Fire was playable on my DVD player.It was a slow moving movie at first. I love it that way because I can relax and capture the details,personalities, dynamics, and symbolism that gets revealed splendidly later in the movie.The end broke my heart, and I had to remind myself that this story takes place in the 1700's.Women had to accept their fates without choice. Because this movie evoked so much emotion in me,I couldn't watch it again, however, I couldn't get it out of my mind for days.The characters speak French, so there are subtitles in English. There isn't a lot of dialogue and the subtitles are very easy to read and keep up with. It's the interactions between the characters,endearing them to each other, falling in love with each other, that so succinctly tells the story.

I recommend getting the criterion on Blu-Ray for a few reasons. One odd one being, it wouldn't surprise me if it eventually is worth more than paid for even if used (and well-taken care of) like some other Criterions of the past.The interviews and further additions helped me appreciate the film all the more. I loved it the first time I saw it, and wished to see it again but it was a limited screening (and for some REALLY STRANGE reason the French decided not to nominate it to represent the best foreign-language film of the year for them at the Oscars, though, IMO it should have been nominated in the category for best film regardless of language).I enjoyed the film even more on the second viewing and the additions have made me look forward to seeing it a third time.I'm very happy with the purchase.

This is the most I’ve paid for one film. I love this movie so much, I just had to own a physical copy of it to ensure I’ll always have access to it. Watch it if you haven’t already! It was my favorite movie of that year.