Fairy tales are immortal At all times, storytellers were inspired by real stories from inexhaustible to amazing discoveries of human life. Real prototypes were probably Cinderella, and Red Riding Hood, and Sleeping Beauty. The mighty folk fantasy, of course, simplified and unrecognizably remade their all too ordinary life stories, removing everything superfluous and highlighting the most remarkable feature in the frame of magical adventures. The stories turned out to be as fantastic as life stories, and many generations of inquisitive children have learned meaningful lessons from these seemingly simple fictions. But times change, and we change with them. People became more and more enlightened, more and more proud of their omnipotent mind, and less and less appreciated the nice old fairy tales. In the twentieth century, there were "fairytale writers on the contrary" - psychoanalysts of the post-Freudian kind, who began to identify with energy the former primarily only amusingly instructive vicissitudes of fairy tale heroes with suppressed sexual motives hidden in the subconscious of people. It was revealed to the astonished world that Cinderella was actually a phallic lady who consciously caught Prince on the bait of her own sexuality and used him as a way to leave a disgraced family with her mother, hated sisters and a weak-willed father. And Red Riding Hood is a sexually mature girl who gladly seduces a man (Wolf) with her innocent behavior, and then with no less pleasure calls hunters. And the prohibition of Bluebeard to his wife to use a small key from a distant closet is nothing more than a ban on infantile masturbation, in which the key appears as a symbol of the clitoris.
Fortunately, not everyone approved of trying to kill the fairy tale through psychoanalytic dismemberment. Many creators used traditional fairy tales in their works, the author rethinking them, but without resorting to a radical psychoanalytic scalpel. So, Hollywood director Edward Dmitryk in 1972 modernist re-imagined in the thriller “Bluebeard” the plot of the famous French folk tale, recorded in his time by Charles Perrault, transferring its action in the first half of the 20th century. Favorite American writer Kurt Vonnegut in 1987 released the novel “Bluebeard”, which used one of the main motives of this seemingly simple plot. And relatively recently, in 2008, not too popular in her beloved France, Catherine Breia put another adaptation of the immortal story about a serial female killer. And this latest version can be confidently called one of the most interesting and productive modern translations of the ancient plot.
The painting by Bray is built on the principle of “fairy tales in a fairy tale”. The action takes place in two time plans. In the first of them, two lively and inquisitive girls, sisters-weather, climb into the attic, where among the trash they find an old book with magical fairy tales and enthusiastically begin to read. And, naturally, the second plan, where the same sisters, but already grown and blossomed, are acting, is perceived as a logical continuation of the first and is played out as if in the maiden imagination. This structure of the video series allows the director, firstly, rather freely interpret the traditional plot, and secondly, to make the end of the fairy tale meaningful and even ambiguous. At the same time, the director carefully preserves the wonderful aroma of the folk tradition with its leisurely narration, bright imagery, sharply outlined characters. Breuille’s aesthetic contrasts with the inexorable dynamism and burdensome problem of modern cinema and resembles the contemplative manner of Pasolini and other Italian masters. Her characters for a long time admire, not excluding the Bluebeard himself, for the role of which Braia invited a very representative and impressive Dominic Tom. And the mysterious young Marie-Kathrin (Lola Creton) and dazzling red-haired Anna (Daphne Bayir) are able to drive crazy not only the loving Bluebeard.
Catherine Breia, one of France’s most controversial filmmakers, is known for her feminist views and has an ongoing interest in sexuality, gender relations and violence. It is not surprising, therefore, that in her version of the old fairy tale, a young woman, Marie-Catherine, comes to the fore, thanks to her curiosity, vivid imagination and initiative, everything actually happens. This fearless girl, in fact, asked for the wife of Bluebeard, well aware of all the rumors associated with his castle. She fell in love with him, seemingly driven solely by a desire to uncover his secret. The baron himself, endowed with an impressive appearance and an interesting beard, serves here as nothing more than a background for the actions of an active young person, like a canvas in Pope Carlo's chamber for the long-nosed Buratino. But the adventure of the young emancipe ends with a far from primitive feminist celebration. The frankly ambiguous end of the fairy tale by Breuille symbolizes the dual choices faced by any woman, with none of the options leading to happiness. Ten years ago, our “Izvestia” wrote that Catherine Breia is a feminist who, deep down, does not believe in feminism, and a director who, deep down, does not believe in cinema. With the first statement you can agree immediately, with the second – argue. But maybe that's true.