Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Portrait of a Lady on Fire paints a sumptuous masterpiece of scorching zealous romance. Eurydice and Orpheus. Fateful love bounded by tragedy. Her solemn death inflicting immeasurable amounts of sorrowful melancholia upon Orpheus, harnessing melodious musicality to signify his eternal grief. Love overpowered. Orpheus confronts the God of the underworld, Hades, hypnotising all with his lyre. The God offered Eurydice’s soul under one condition. To not stare upon her spirit until they reach the light once more. Orpheus’ empyrean patience would be rewarded. Unable to hear her footsteps, Orpheus nervously persuaded himself that he was fooled by the Gods and begrudgingly rotates his visions unto her after losing his faith. Her ghostly form whisked back among the dead. Forever. Their love, however fleeting, blossoming from within. With only their physicality extinguished. A romance that was not meant to be. The ancient legend corresponds to the artistic emancipation of Marianne, a young painter commissioned to produce a portrait of the equally youthful Héloïse whom is to be married off to a wealthy nobleman, with an illicit romantic affair igniting between their sumptuous female entities. Exoticism that expresses the forbidden humanity that was repressed within eighteenth century France whilst celebrating the female anatomy upon every soul-gazing stare. Marianne focussing on every precise characteristic that Héloïse elegantly discharges, painting the initial apathetic stance that shrouds her subject’s opulent lifestyle. Her hands positioned with insurmountable grace, her indomitable complexions angled to perfection. The more Marianne confidently paints, the further her unflappable emotions progress. Offering supplementary ardour. Each passing day, as Marianne acts as Héloïse’s walking companion after the apparent suicide of her sister, the two increasingly concatenate their infatuations. Each longing stare into each other’s eyes, further alluring than the last, beckoning the compassionate lust that overwhelms. Their breathing simultaneously growing stronger, beseeching the infatuating oxygen that shrouds their authentic corsets. “When you’re observing me, who do you think I’m observing?”, asks an apprehensive Héloïse as she comes to terms with her true feelings. With only days left before Marianne’s contract ceases, the two flee to a desolate cave by the beach and subject themselves to a passionate kiss. A forbidden kiss that echoes throughout the cavern, with their hearts beating as one. “Your presence is made up of fleeting moments that may lack truth”, Marianne declares. Saddened by the eventual disappearance of their lustful endeavours. “Not everything is fleeting. Some feelings are deep”, Héloïse replies. Visions haunting Marianne of an ethereal version of her lover before dissipating into the darkness that engulfs her. A fleeting representation of Orpheus’ fateful love, metaphorically symbolised in the inflorescence of youthful lust. An ember growing into a respiring flame, as it singes Héloïse’s aquatic dress whilst bestowing an unflinching look upon Marianne. Get too close to the cinders, and one may burn their soul beyond repair. An option Marianne consumes as she “chooses the memory” of Héloïse whilst acknowledging her cataclysmic consequence. Yet, much like with all fires, a beauty exudes from its ashes. Reborn into a rejuvenated benevolence. For the bond these women have fabricated can never be smothered, even if society prevents such romances from blossoming. Immortalising true feelings onto a canvas, with each stroke of oil paint surging with endearment. From the surreal titular masterpiece “Portrait de la jeune fills en feu” to a future portrait of Héloïse surreptitiously clinging onto a vivid memory. Art enshrines all with timelessness, serving as conduits for equality and vivacious memories. A simple rendition of Vivaldi’s Presto (“Summer” composition) on a dainty harpsichord embeds itself into the soul, nestling amongst the serotonin. To hear the same piece again, this time as an orchestration, an emotional weight anchors the body. Subconsciously, memories of old come flowing back. Art, in all its forms, subjugating the human psyche. Harnessing the ability to relate dexterous artistry with emotional control. Sciamma’s historical drama is that representation. It subverts the artist-muse relationship, common in ancient legends such as the aforementioned tale that assimilates itself within Sciamma’s flourishing screenplay, by reversing the perspective onto Eurydice’s viewpoint. To see the subtle eroticism through the glistening eyes of the muse. To animate the urgency of female relationships, whether a mere bond or romantic interest, by excluding prolific male characters from the story entirely. Through sheer focus upon the female entirety, both mind and anatomy, Sciamma produces a tale of passion that radiates gravitas upon each line of dialogue, facial expression and inevitable conclusion. Marianne concedes to the realisation that their intimate solicitude can only exist in their memories, and it’s through art that these memories are imprisoned. A form of self-communication. Sciamma, alongside Mathon’s exquisitely sumptuous cinematography that paints every frame of film as if they were individual masterpieces, decoratively directs the love affair bounded by the art that surrounds it. Each stroke of Marianne’s paint brush or fine line drawn from a stick of charcoal is intensively therapeutic and central to the romance. The exclusion of a traditional score, with only Vivaldi’s strings and women chanting echoing the extremities of repression, allow the burdensome breathing to infiltrate the audience. Haenel capitalising on the intensity of arduous respiration whenever her character, Héloïse, interacts with Marianne on a physical level. Her eyes moistened as her soft lips touches Marianne’s. Merlant equaling Haenel’s ferocity by presenting fragility, especially when running towards her stoic lover begging for forgiveness. The crashing waves of the sea acting as a symbolic backdrop for their turbulent bond. Sophisticated one-take sequences of dialogue exchanges with both Merlant and Haenel, rarely blinking, staring into each other’s souls. Supplying incalculable amounts of chemistry. Yet, one scene had the ability to fully entrance, staring into the silenced void of the credits. Haenel’s multi-faceted emotionally explorative climactic scene, as a flood of feelings pour into her heart when listening to Vivaldi’s masterpiece. To confidently alter between sorrow, regret, happiness and sadness in the space of two minutes, was nothing short of perfection. Vivaldi’s staccato notes exemplifying the relentless austerity of their relationship, whilst the calmer strings providing solace. In just a one-take zoom-in, Sciamma concludes her female love affair by, once again, linking to art. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is intimidating. Not for its stupendously celebratory subject matter or personable symbolism. It’s intimidating because it is unequivocally perfect film-making. There is not a single frame out of place, nor a single word of dialogue. For years, one has persuaded others that the “perfect” film does not exist. Art cannot achieve perfection. Yet, Sciamma has somehow achieved the near impossible by delving deeper into the manifesto on the female gaze. Through the embellishment of queer cinema, the prosperity of female empowerment and contemporary astuteness of arthouse productions, she has painted a perfect masterpiece. Not only achieving the perfect score, but quite possibly the single greatest piece of cinema that has acquired zero flaws. Not one. It may just be the best film I’ve personally ever seen. Love is not scripted. It is an original work of art.

A review for the DVD presentation of “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” (ASIN: B0859R4MBC). I love Céline Sciamma's films and have watched her previous directed feature films numerous times, especially “Bande de Filles”. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” (original title “Portrait de la Jeune Fille en Feu”) I now know I will also be watching again – and probably numerous times. With Céline Sciamma's directing of this superb film, a film that has an unhuried pace, especially in the early part of the film, an amazingly tallented and beautiful cast – Adèle Haenel, Noémie Merlant, Valeria Golino, and Luàna Bajrami, a superb story that is part mystery, part romance, part social comment, amazing coastal scenery (Côte Sauvage) beautifully photographed by Claire Mathon, this period drama is superb and on so many levels. It is a film that depicts some Eighteenth Century women, a film that is multi-layered and yet shows things that still ring true today. Sombody the audience doesn't see fully in the film but whose drawings and paintings we do see is Hélène Delmaire and she deserves plenty of praise for painting the wonerful images that are seen. On the DVD there is an extra feature that is well worth a look at which is all about the painting done for and in the film. Also in the extra features on the DVD there is a commentary from the director, the two lead actresses and the cinematographer that (once the film has been seen) is definitely worth playing. That commentary has optional English subtitles that play alongside the optional English subtitles for the films dialogue. On the DVD (ASIN: B0859R4MBC) you get: “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” (1 hour 58 minutes) Scene Selection Set Up: 5.1 Surround Sound 2.0 Stereo LPCM Subtitles: The film has optional English Subtitles as well as optional English Subtitles for the film plus the commentary. Special Features: Paintings by Hélène Delmaire (53 minutes) Interview with Hélène Delmaire (11 minutes) Commentary with Céline Sciamma, Adèle Haenel, Noémie Merlant, and Claire Mathon Trailer

Brilliant, haunting and very unusual film.

Very good

It was pleasant enough but did not live up to expectations having read many reviews. Some sections were a bit 'odd' - hard to unravel exactly what the meaning of the strange dancing on the beach was all about. Beautifully shot and good acting though, but just not a story-line I enjoyed.

Absolutely brilliant film. It moves the mind, heart and soul.

As a writer, I found this film too hard to describe. For me, it was an emotional rollercoaster, which ripped the core of my soul out. The reviewers have picked over everything, so my contribution is on the sketch scene, which is drawn on Page 28 of a book. Marianne drew the image after making love. One doesn't realise at the time, and yet, when Marianne observes Héoïse's portrait at the end of the movie, she is standing there with her child, and the book she is holding is open at Page 28. I am an emotional man, but knowing it was a movie, I held my composure until that scene, whereupon I became lachrymose before the floods broke the dam. Héoïse, sitting alone listening to Vivaldi with tears streaming down her cheek, didn't help shore up the torrent either. None of this may seem important, but please hear me out. It's been five years since I bought the Blu-ray and the movie poster, which is positioned at the top of my stairs before you descend. I have yet to overcome the impact this film has had on me fully. Five years, Ms Sciamma - I feel like I am a slave to your artwork. A happy subservient position that is not unique to me.

Beautiful

Excellent film .....thanks

Magnifique film , d'une densité rare, une belle histoire de femmes aussi

Ce film est véritablement un chef d’œuvre. L'histoire est magnifique de subtilité. C'est l'un de mes film préféré. Il relate une histoire d'amour vibrante d'une peintre et d'une jeune fille qui vient de quitter le couvent. L'art se mêle aux personnages qui sont joués par des actrices brillantes. A voir absolument!

Sehr gerne wieder.

時代設定が古いヨーロッパの映画を観て感心することは、その時代に違和感のない建造物、景観および自然が今もその国に残っていることです。この映画は映像がきれいで、「5時から7時の恋人カンケイ」のような悲しくも心温まる結末に感動しました。