Shot-by-Shot: Rules of the Game
By Nathan Williams

Jean Renoir’s Rules of the Game is in the category of films that suffer from their lofty reputation. It is the only title to make the Sight and Sound critics’ top ten every single occasion. It is the flower of French cinema, a film at once a product of the old system and a direct inspiration to the New Wave. It is the career peak of the son of an impressionist master. And so on.  The modern viewer, then, approaches the film with entirely the wrong expectations. Rules of the Game is a poetic film, yes. It is a powerful social and political statement, no doubt. It is a film infused with melancholy and love of things passing away before us, no argument there.

But, first and foremost, it is a farce. It is a broad comedy of men grabbing women’s behinds, people falling down, guns going off at the wrong time, animal costumes, cars crashing, and —as the form dictates— mistaken identity. The modern viewer goes in expecting high (and dry) European art and is shocked to find a large ensemble cast of naturalistically portrayed human beings running around like les Frères Marx. One of the greatest comedies in history is too often met not with laughter but with head-scratching.

But a farce it is, and one aided by a not inconsiderable visual technique. Let’s look at a brief sequence that illustrates Renoir’s close adherence to Buster Keaton’s dictum: “Tragedy is a close-up; comedy, a long-shot.”

SHOT 1A



During a wild party at the chateau, Lisette, wife of groundskeeper Schumacher, has been carrying on with Marceau, a local poacher (and thus enemy of the groundskeeper) recently hired on as domestic help in the service of the Marquis. In the chateau kitchen, Lisette and Marceau exchange affection. They are shot at 90 degrees in full shot; A fairly theatrical presentation, except for their slight asymmetry within the frame. Marceau boasts that if Schumacher comes by, “I’ll put him in his place and fast.” They also, not so subtly, share bites of an apple.

SHOT 1B



A noise is heard and Marceau is fast, alright, bolting to his left to hide from the burly Alsatian husband. Renoir dollied in prior to the sound and the move, making our pan with the fleeing Marceau a more dramatic one (closer, he moves through screen space faster). We pan with him as…

SHOT 1C



…he ducks into the cupboard and Lisette walks over to cover for him (literally blocking the line of sight between him and the stairway). She is kept in focus as Marceau recedes to the secondary layer of the scene (Renoir frequently stages in layers), and she walks right as we pan…

SHOT 1D



Back across the room with her. We are now much tighter than before we panned left, suggesting either a dolly is masked in this move or the previous. However, masking the camera movement is to deliberately withhold its effects. Renoir is moving the camera in order to accomplish his desired framing, not to wield the dolly as a technique in itself.

SHOT 1E



Lisette settles by the stairway just as her husband lumbers down the stairs. We tilt up to create a new two-shot. It might be somewhat obvious to state that Schumacher, raised on his step, is in a dominant position here, but it need not have been the case. If Renoir had kept Lisette closer to the camera, and thus larger in the frame, a more complex dynamic could have been achieved. But simple establishment of relationships is essential here. Schumacher is the jealous bully, Marceau the fleeing coward, and Lisette the intermediary, with power only to distract and hinder Schumacher, not to stop him.

Schumacher is suspicious of Lisette alone in the kitchen. His eyes dart around for Marceau. Lisette claims she just came down for the apple (pointing its presence out to the denser members of the audience).

SHOT 1F



Lisette begins to ascend the stairs to return to the party. Unlike other motions in this shot, the camera does not budge as she hops up the steps, indicating, even before Schumacher speaks, that she is not going far. Indeed, Schumacher blocks her passage, telling her to get him a drink.

SHOT 1G



Lisette is a character that succeeds through manipulation, not force, so she obeys, walking down the steps and out of the frame. We dolly back for a moment, but, we discover, to better frame Schumacher on his descent, not to follow Lisette. He tries to decipher his wife’s compliance for a moment, all the while looking out for Marceau.

SHOT 1H



She casually re-enters the frame with a bottle of wine, and he follows her back to the table. The camera pans only slightly to reframe as she offers him a chair.

SHOT 2A



Schumacher pours his drink and takes a gulp. Lisette hovers above him, having attained a temporary dominance in the situation through her servitude. She continues to munch away at her allusion.

SHOT 2B



Schumacher tells Lisette he is taking her away the next day to Alsace. Lying, she happily agrees, as she motions for Marceau to make his escape. She is an expert at flattering her husband and expects no trouble distracting him while her lover makes a getaway. She crosses the frame to Schumacher’s right side.

SHOT 2C



As she crosses, we dolly slightly, but, more noticeably, the camera booms upwards. This accomplishes two things: further emphasizing Lisette’s growing control of the situation (she imposes somewhat more from the higher angle), and, by reducing Schumacher’s size in the frame, creating more room to capture Marceau’s escape in the background. The latter motivation is the primary one, and it is unikely Renoir would have indulged in the commentary of the camera move if he did not have some screen action to justify it. As it is, Marceau enters as Schumacher describes the heinous violence to which he will subject the poacher. Marceau reacts with exaggerated fear (in the background and in soft focus, gestures can afford to be broader), hugging the wall with nervousness. Everything about his place in the frame emphasizes his weakness.

SHOT 2D



And, shaking with fear, Marceau slips on a spill in the kitchen.

SHOT 2E



Schumacher bolts out of his chair with rage. Lisette feigns shock.

SHOTS 2F, G





The camera remains stationary, allowing the farcical chase to commence without comment. Human action is inherently ridiculous, and it is only through artful visual depiction that serious films manage to suppress the humor. A comedy director, however, has the luxury of putting his camera in a good spot and letting the action unfold.

SHOT 2H



Marceau navigates an escape route and the camera pans and tilts with him, pushing us into a scene transition.

SHOT 3A



The Marquis, having just unveiled his proudest possession (a large antique music box) to an appreciate crowd, strides across the party in search of his wife. He moves quickly and we pan with him until a wall blocks him from our view, at which point we…

SHOT 3B



Whip-pan violently across the frame…

SHOT 3C



… to an unopened door. We know full well who will be emerging from that door, but Renoir lets a beat hold before Marceau and company burst out, expertly playing on our anticipation of the pandemonium.

SHOT 3D



But burst for they do, as the camera begins a dramatic boom upwards, in addition to panning left to lead the action.

SHOT 3E



Schumacher dodges the Marquis but runs flat into the maid (pushed by Marceau). At a high angle the events below seem even pettier.

SHOT 3F



Marceau repeats the trick and pushes the Marquis (his own lord and employer) into the dizzy, enraged Schumacher.

SHOT 3G



Impotent to stop him, the Marquis bellows threats and Lisette grabs at his clothes. We pan right again but allow the frantic Marceau to exit the frame.

SHOT 3H



Continuing to pan right, we see that he has set up a rather pathetic furniture barrier to the Alsatian, but then we discover it is just a diversion as Marceau bolts out from behind the pillar (the action is too fast to notice that though he was hidden from audience eyes, Schumacher couldn’t really have missed him).

SHOT 3I



The sequence ends with Schumacher temporarily boxed in, but his rage unblunted.

That he accomplishes this entire chain of events in three shots without either boring the audience with shot staleness or making the camera’s presence overly noticeable is a minor miracle. The major one is that these three shots are merely a small sequence in the exhilarating, escalating frenzy of cinema’s greatest party scene.