Ode to Paulette

I recently saw Jean Renoir’s superb The Rules of the Game for what was probably the fifth or sixth time – it’s one of those films I always think I won’t be able to re-watch fully, so why not just see a few specific scenes; but then I get so involved with its splendid cast of characters and their romantic misadventures that before I know it I’m more than halfway through (and then there’s no question of stopping).

For the cineaste, The Rules of the Game is a delight on many levels – for the complex scene set-ups and skilful long takes, the many visual links between sets of people and actions, and at least two wonderfully choreographed sequences involving all the characters. But on a less technical level, the most aesthetically pleasing thing about it is Paulette Dubost.

In this cavalcade of upper-class infidels and their equally adventurous servants, Dubost plays a chambermaid named Lisette. She is incredibly good and also (inappropriate though it may be to say this about a woman who could have babysat my grandfather back in the day) incredibly hot. Lisette embodies the old stereotype of the saucy, flirtatious French maid who doesn’t mind having some fun - but she's also resourceful, with surprising emotional depths, and capable of taking care of herself (even in a situation where her insanely jealous husband is chasing one of her lovers about the mansion, rifle in hand). I don’t know if such a type ever existed in the real world, but she should have.

Anyway, after this viewing, I looked up Dubost online and discovered that she died – at the age of 100! – just two months ago. I don’t usually get sentimental about the passing of public figures whom I didn’t personally know (even if I’m a fan of their work), but this felt a bit strange: Lisette is one of the most profoundly alive screen characters I’ve seen. Many people I know who haven’t actually seen Renoir’s film are daunted by its reputation and by its continual appearances on “Greatest Film” lists; they figure it must be “difficult” or "arty". But it’s one of the most accessible of classics, a warm and endearing tragi-comedy, and the pert girl with the sparkle in her eye - munching, Eve-like, on an apple while she sets a chain of events in motion - is a big part of its charm.