‘Diary of a Country Priest’: A Suffering Saint
Before he made “Pickpocket”, Robert Bresson introduced his minimalist style to the world with “Diary of a Country Priest” (1952), about an unnamed priest who takes over a rural parish in France. It's a cinematic risk that actually worked, but it's not the flawless classic critics make it out to be. Bresson never catered to popular sensibilities, and his austere style is really an acquired taste. Nonetheless, “Diary of a Country Priest” signaled a new direction in French cinema, one that used narrative clichés of the era in a ‘un-cinematic' way. In the plot, the unnamed priest has difficulty fitting into his new environment; at each turn he's humiliated, even by young children. He simply cannot understand the indifference of these people, but their selfish motives and malicious gossip prove to be unbeatable obstacles. Yet he continues, now and then guided by an older priest (Torcy) who becomes his mentor. Mind you, this film is not about faith; it's about the process of achieving sainthood, hence the main character could easily be of a different religious persuasion, suffering the i ndignity of a society that devalues honesty and kindness.
The pacing of the film, its compositions and editing are tediously structured so we suffer alongside the priest—Bresson wants to make the audience feel the protagonist's spiritual angst, and most of the time it works. What makes this experience challenging is the director's minimalist techniques: for instance, he favors elliptical editing (where certain parts of a sequence are omitted) forcing us to piece together what happened, and most of the time important facts are revealed via the priest's voice-over narration.
Bresson purposely avoids anything cinematic, even the drama of the ending—the priest's harrowing death—is narrated in a voice-over. As the voiceover describes the priest's death in detail, all we see is the shadow of a cross on a white wall. It's a genuinely haunting, effective climax. The compositions also defy visual expectations; the framing is mostly in medium-shots and closeups, with a diffused color palette evoking the photography of silent cinema.
Scenes fade and dissolve into each other, forming sequences of a fragmented quality. Sound-effects are maximized; we hear dogs barking, a train roaring but never see the person/ object making the noise— all these techniques serve to heighten the priest's sense of isolation, emphasizing how he stands apart from the bustle of the village. The film was adapted from the eponymous 1936 novel by Georges Bernanos, and it's one of the few
THE PACING OF THE FILM, ITS COMPOSITIONS AND EDITING ARE TEDIOUSLY STRUCTURED SO WE SUFFER ALONGSIDE THE PRIEST— BRESSON WANTS TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE FEEL THE PROTAGONIST’S SPIRITUAL ANGST, AND MOST OF THE TIME IT WORKS
instances where the book is cinematic in its evocative prose, while the film is extensively literary. Just like the protagonist in Bresson's later film “Pickpocket”, the priest keeps a diary where he reflects on his daily encounters, and his musings are communicated via voiceover narration. It's fair to say “The Diary of a Country Priest” is experimental; its merits are experienced and appreciated, never enjoyed— then again, how are we to ‘enjoy' a human being bullied by society, undergoing a crisis of faith?