I imagine this film was remarkably personal. I suppose more than a few professional-aged practising Roman Catholic men have found themselves in the same position as does Jean-Louis here: among friends who do not share the same values, who seem to suppose they do you a favour by "loosening you up" a bit (i.e., by pressuring you to put yourself in an occasion of sin)...
Maud, however, does not really want to "loosen up" Jean-Louis. We get the impression that she's something of a "skank," but on the other hand she wants and expects honesty--and she teaches Jean-Louis to want and expect the same. "I like men who know what they want," she explains to him. And so Jean-Louis contemplates and decides what he wants.
Interestingly, although the freethinker Maud is the pivotal character in Jean-Louis's self-transformation, and although the philosophical conversations center around the Maud, the Catholic Françoise is unquestionably the more complex and intriguing character. Maud, though well-meaning visibly lacks emotion and soul, fault of her completely libertine upbringing; she seems, in a sense, prisoner to her nonchalant worldview. Françoise, however, radiates a vivid spectrum of feeling and life experience.
The Jansenist subtext was difficult for me to make out on the first viewing, and I may have to watch this again to really get it. My instinct is to suggest that Jean-Louis is the Jansenist and Françoise the Jesuit-dévotist, but I cannot say for sure. That I cannot immediately identify the significance of Pascal to this uvre is rather disturbing to me, having studied a fair amount of 17th and 18th century French history and literature.
Another filmmaker could easily have turned this into a simple and boring story of abandonment of faith. But not Éric Rohmer, who was interesting among Nouvelle Vague directors for being firm in his Catholic convictions (just this year, his funeral Mass was at a church just five minutes' walk from my home). Thus, Jean-Louis does not, in the end, decide that he wants something "bad" and libertine.
Maud, however, does not really want to "loosen up" Jean-Louis. We get the impression that she's something of a "skank," but on the other hand she wants and expects honesty--and she teaches Jean-Louis to want and expect the same. "I like men who know what they want," she explains to him. And so Jean-Louis contemplates and decides what he wants.
Interestingly, although the freethinker Maud is the pivotal character in Jean-Louis's self-transformation, and although the philosophical conversations center around the Maud, the Catholic Françoise is unquestionably the more complex and intriguing character. Maud, though well-meaning visibly lacks emotion and soul, fault of her completely libertine upbringing; she seems, in a sense, prisoner to her nonchalant worldview. Françoise, however, radiates a vivid spectrum of feeling and life experience.
The Jansenist subtext was difficult for me to make out on the first viewing, and I may have to watch this again to really get it. My instinct is to suggest that Jean-Louis is the Jansenist and Françoise the Jesuit-dévotist, but I cannot say for sure. That I cannot immediately identify the significance of Pascal to this uvre is rather disturbing to me, having studied a fair amount of 17th and 18th century French history and literature.
Another filmmaker could easily have turned this into a simple and boring story of abandonment of faith. But not Éric Rohmer, who was interesting among Nouvelle Vague directors for being firm in his Catholic convictions (just this year, his funeral Mass was at a church just five minutes' walk from my home). Thus, Jean-Louis does not, in the end, decide that he wants something "bad" and libertine.