“Midget! Wanna see a man's dick?”
The Story:
Fourteen year-old Laurent (Benoit Ferreux) is being shown the way of the world by his older brothers, a charmingly devious couple of 18-or-sos that carouse, gallivant with women, steal money from their mother and pull pranks to pass the time in 1954 France. Their mother, Clara (Lea Massari) shows an obvious shine to the virtuoso in comparison to the other boys and has a tendency to be juvenile herself. Laurent is well on his way in following in his brother’s footsteps; he drinks, smokes and is naturally curious about the opposite sex. Figuring it’s about time for Laurent to become a man, they take him to a brothel for his first sexual experience only to barge in before the act was finished. Another Chevalier boys prank. Laurent goes off to summer camp, but comes down sick with a heart murmur, to which he and his mother must leave home and stay at a hotel to receive treatments. A booking misunderstanding causes them to have to share a room together, which ultimately leads to the two of them having their own sexual encounter.
The Review:
Murmur of the Heart is impossible to explain in words, one must feel out the film to understand the distinction from its peers. The climax involves an act of incest that is indubitably mild and tastefully accomplished– if that phrase can be used to describe such a thing. While this awkward tension between the two characters turns up multiple times in the movie, it feels oddly minimal to the plot. Nominated for an Academy Award in 1973, Louis Malle’s semi-autobiographical coming of age screenplay is perfection. There is no other word for a script that can take this subject matter and manage to make it work in its own uninfluenced way, so much that the incest acts as a metaphor and little more. Malle’s Oedipus complex fascination is intriguing but serves no real purpose other than to signify the final step into adulthood in Laurent’s life. No, not because of reasons you think; he already has his brothers to thank for that at the brothel. It is the final step to his independence and cements his already blossoming ability of freethinking and understanding real adults, of which his mother is anything but.
A heavy French vibe hovers over the characters, their actions and the reactions of others around them. Laurent can drink wine at any moment without much hassle; he and especially his brothers polish bottles of the stuff off at dinner. He walks around the hotel with a cigarette and mimics the cocky attitude of his brothers. Imitation and flattery at the time, but by the end of the film, the way he treats women and older adults (generally portrayed as politic babbling, boring luddites) shows the true cockiness of adolescence. If a girl won’t sleep with him, she must be a lesbian, right? After all, that other guy says it’s true. And if she won’t put out, why not visit a lovely one that will? Laurent falls into the position of his brothers so naturally that you’d be surprised if he wasn’t so perceptive that he could play the part on a whim even before his very own Murmur.
I could discuss the film and all of its charm, hilarity and hijinx for days (don’t let the high review scores and Criterion release fool you, this is a quotable, brash, teen comedy for much of the running time), but during this viewing I made a discovery almost too out there for even me to believe. I was very young when I saw a film I later described to a friend who thought it surely must be Private Lessons. I bought that DVD and thought nothing of it, hoping to revisit it one day because the plot description fit. The only problem was in the back of my mind I would have sworn the movie I watched was in French, which couldn’t possibly add up. Déjà vu set in during the brothel scene and just before Laurent’s brothers crashed his big moment, the prostitute uttered the exact same lines I used to describe my memory of that long, lost film to my friend. At only eight or nine, reading subtitles of a European art film on Showcase TV, I had my own little Murmur of the Heart. Over fifteen years later, I have no idea what the hell could have gone through my mind as I watched. Seeing it again for the first time, I can rest my head knowing I had good taste. (Brett H.)
Tale of the Tape:
10 out of a possible 10 inches.
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