CINÉSALON: THE TREE, THE MAYOR, AND THE MEDIATHEQUE (L’ARBRE, LE MAIRE ET LA MÉDIATHÈQUE) (LES SEPTS HASARDS) (Éric Rohmer, 1993)
French Institute Alliance Française, Florence Gould Hall
55 East 59th St. between Madison & Park Aves.
Tuesday, February 17, 4:00 & 7:30
Series continues Tuesdays through February 24
212-355-6100
www.fiaf.org
Éric Rohmer’s The Tree, the Mayor and the Mediatheque is a delightfully simple, outrageously funny satire that stands apart from the majority of the French auteur’s works, especially his three famous series: Six Moral Tales, Comedies and Proverbs, and Tales of the Four Seasons. “French can be illogical, as we’ll see,” school principal Marc Rossignol (Fabrice Luchini) tells his young students at the beginning, and the same can be said for the French characters in the film as well, each one thinking they are nothing if not completely logical. Rohmer divides The Tree, the Mayor and the Mediatheque into seven chapters, each built around a conditional “if” clause; for example, chapter four begins, “If Blandine Lenoir, at the monthly ‘Tomorrow,” had not, while recording a cultural broadcast, inadvertently unplugged her answering machine…” Each chapter pits philosophical, sociopolitical foes against one another as the small rural town of Saint-Juire-Champgillon prepares to build a new cultural, sports, and media center on an expanse of greenery that is home to a large, beautiful old tree. The center is the pet project of the mayor, Julien Dechaumes (Pascal Greggory), who aspires to higher office, while Rossignol is dead-set against anyone tampering with the natural environment. The battle heats up as magazine editor Régis Lebrun-Blondet (François-Marie Banier) hires freelance journalist Blandine Lenoir (Clémentine Amouroux) to do a story on the town’s situation.

Reporter Blandine Lenoir (Clémentine Amouroux) finds herself in the middle of controversy in wickedly funny Rohmer satire
Arguments abound over parking lots, the relative values of country vs. city, traditional farming vs. new advances, form vs. function, politics and ecology, and chance vs. the imponderable nature of history, involving Rossignol, Dechaumes, Lebrun-Blondet, Lenoir, architect Antoine Pergola (Michel Jaouen), the mayor’s girlfriend, author Bérénice Beaurivage (Arielle Dombasle), and even Rossignol’s ten-year-old daughter, Zoé (Galaxie Barbouth). Oddly, and most refreshingly, the extremely French rational, irrational, scientific, metaphysical, subtle, obvious, logical, and illogical discussions don’t involve any smoking, drinking, or sex. Even so, The Tree, the Mayor and the Mediatheque, which features an endearingly goofy score by Sébastien Erms, is a purely French film from start to finish, a lovely little slice of life that is one of Rohmer’s unsung masterworks. The Tree, the Mayor and the Mediatheque is screening February 17 at 4:00 & 7:30 in the French Institute Alliance Française’s CinéSalon series “Eccentrics of French Comedy” series; the 7:30 show will be introduced by film critic Nicholas Elliott, and both shows will be followed by a wine reception. The series concludes February 24 with Luc Moullet’s The Land of Madness, introduced by theater director Pavol Liska.



Lovingly restored several years ago by Janus Films in a new 35mm print, Albert Lamorisse’s The Red Balloon, which won the Palme d’Or at Cannes and an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, tells the story of a young boy (Pascal Lamorisse, the director’s son) who makes friends with an extraordinary red balloon, which follows him through the streets of Belleville in Paris, waits for him while he is in school, and obeys his every command. But the neighborhood kids are afraid of this stranger and go on a mission to burst the young boy’s bubble. Lamorisse gives life and emotion to the balloon (more than twenty-five thousand were used in the making of the film) in a masterful use of simple special effects well before CGI and other modern technology. The Red Balloon also features the splendid music of Maurice Leroux and the fine photography of Edmond Séchan, which beautifully sets the large red balloon against the gray of the streets and buildings of Paris’s Ménilmontant district. The thirty-four-minute film can also be seen as a parable about Jesus and the birth or Christianity, though it’s best not to read too much into it. The Red Balloon is screening daily February 16-21 at 1:00 at the Museum of Moving Image in conjunction with city schools’ winter break. On February 19 at 2:15, the museum will be hosting “The Red Balloon Animation Adventure,” an hour-long workshop ($5) for children ages six in which kids can create their own little Red Balloon movie. 
In his second film as writer, director, producer, and composer (following Dark Star, which he cowrote with Dan O’Bannon), low-budget maestro John Carpenter turns an about-to-be-abandoned police station in the fictional L.A. ghetto of Anderson into the Alamo in the urban-angst thriller Assault on Precinct 13. Setting the stage with a pulsating synth score and a beautifully cheesy opening-credits design, Carpenter captures the rage and unrest burning inside America in the 1970s in this claustrophobic tale of revenge. Austin Stoker stars as Lt. Ethan Bishop, an easygoing cop who is given the supposedly painless job of monitoring a police precinct in South Central Los Angeles on its final day of business, as a few of the last remaining workers pack up boxes and bid the place farewell. But following a police ambush of the Street Thunder gang and the senseless murder of a little girl, an ever-increasing number of gang members soon descend on the station, seeking bloody retribution. Bishop is forced to defend the precinct with secretaries Leigh (Zimmer) and Julie (Nancy Loomis) and dangerous convicts Napoleon Wilson (Darwin Joston) and Wells (Tony Burton) as the power is cut off and their weapons dwindle. The unending stream of gang members swarm around the station like zombies, trying to burst through doors and windows, as the cops and the cons struggle to come up with a plan to save themselves before all hope is lost. “The very least of our problems is that we’re out of time,” Leigh says to Wilson, who replies, “It’s an old story with me. I was born out of time.”

In The Other Man: F. W. de Klerk and the End of Apartheid, filmmaker Nicolas Rossier examines the legacy of the man who won the 1993 Nobel Peace Prize with Nelson Mandela, painting an intriguing portrait of former South African president Frederik Willem de Klerk, who ended the ban on the African National Congress and ultimately ceded power to Mandela. “I’ve come to the conclusion that apartheid was wrong, that it was morally unjustifiable, and therefore it had to be changed,” de Klerk states emphatically in the film. “And I’m not justifying in any way the wrongs which took place and which was done to the majority of the people living in South Africa in the period of apartheid and separate development.” De Klerk was born into a privileged family, his father one of the chief architects of apartheid, which its supporters prefer to call “separate development.” Taking over the presidency in 1989 from P. W. Botha, de Klerk saw the inevitable downfall of white leadership in South Africa and worked with Mandela to create a new future for the country. Rossier speaks with such anti-apartheid activists as Mathews Phosa, Albie Sachs, Yasmin Sooka, Randall Robinson, and Father Michael Lapsley; such members of de Klerk’s inner circle as Director General David Steward, cabinet ministers Leon Wessels and Roelf Meyer, and friend and foreign ministry spokeswoman Alayne Reesberg; journalists Allister Sparks and Max du Preez; human rights abuse investigator Richard Goldstone; U.S. assistant secretary of state Chester Crocker; former SADF soldier Piet Croucamp; and former South African president Thabo Mbeki, who share wide-ranging opinions and stories about de Klerk as a man and a politician, examining his motives and responsibilities and placing them in context of the changes swirling throughout his country.

