Classic Throwback: Au Hasard Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966)

I watched and reviewed Au Hasard Balthazar as part of my 2012 Blind Spot Series.

“Everyone who sees this film will be absolutely astonished,” Jean-Luc Godard once said about Au Hasard Balthazar, “because this film is really the world in an hour and a half.” Put it this way, this episodically plotted but thematically dense black and white masterwork from French auteur Robert Bresson (Pickpocket) is a very difficult film to analyze, but one that must rank as one of cinema’s most essential and emotionally rewarding classics.

The premise behind Au Hasard Balthazar is an endearingly simple one. It is the story of an often-exploited donkey, christened Balthazar by the children of a farmer’s family who adopt him at an early age (the opening shot, like in Steven Spelberg’s recent epic, War Horse, which shares many similarities with Balthazar, is of a baby donkey nursing at its mother’s side) and raise him in rural France. He functions more as a family pet than a ‘beast of burden’ – a role assigned Balthazar after several sad twists of fate. He gets passed from owner to owner, observing all manners of human goodwill and pure evil – finding himself in the possession of a satanic local delinquent, a mysterious drifter and even a circus troupe. It is a powerful and upsetting fable about human adoration and cruelty struggling to coexist, about suffering and the destructive impulses of humanity. Bresson uses Balthazar as a saintly symbol of purity and virtue, and as a passive observer, forced to cop the brunt of mistreatment and carry misdeed as best he can.

What we are exposed to, through the dual stories of Balthazar and Marie (whose paths cross over many years), is horrifying but unforgettable. The former, a naïve innocent, repeatedly gives herself to her family’s tormenters, while Balthazar, a passive observer for most of the film, simply exists without knowledge of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, facing the brunt of cruelty and violence, serving some of his owners unwillingly but always as best he can. This is most clear in the film’s unforgettable final moments. The way that Gerard continues to reappear in the tale, ultimately destroying the lives of both Marie and Balthazar, is difficult to watch. Marie, though drawn to Gerard, leaves him, and ends up being raped and beaten (presumably causing her to commit suicide - though it is never made clear), while Balthazar is left alone to catch a bullet during Gerard’s ill-fated smuggling mission. As he has been for the entirety of the film, Balthazar is the exploited innocent – dying for the sins of mankind. Several individuals view him as a reincarnated saint – and even the strictest non-believer could be persuaded to agree.

The film itself, because it is so rich with symbolism and religious imagery, and because it allows such a brief time to process the images before whisking its audience off to another episode, is a challenging sit. There is so much more to the characters than you initially believe, and the way that Bresson introduces characters is ingenious (for example the town miser, who would unforgivably mistreat Balthazar when he becomes his owner later in the film, is briefly introduced several episodes earlier at a party). Bresson knows exactly what he wants out of every scene and after experiencing Pickpocket, I really admire his stark visuals and his unique ability to prioritise information, while continuing to allude to events that take place within his cuts. You can see how calculated he is with his camera maneuvers, often fixing his camera on what is initially an insignificant item or space, only to see the scene quickly move into that space and cause it to have significance.

Due to his use of real locations and natural lighting (similar to Neorealism) and because he is beset on drawing expressionless performances from his largely untrained cast, it is difficult to call Balthazar an entertaining film, but few will deny it is fascinating and profoundly moving. Viewers will be hard pressed not to be left in tears by the conclusion. Bresson doesn’t sweeten his film with a dose of sentimentality, or force Balthazar to possess human characteristics and expressions. He is a simple feat of nature – much like every other creature on Earth – but he has been exposed to corrupted nature of humanity, and purely through chance and circumstance, his tale exists. We can never know what Balthazar is thinking as he quietly observes the world around him, but Bresson, through some extraordinary reaction shots, and clever editing, conveys that Balthazar is never judging the world around him, but observes mournfully, knowing he will never be able to evoke change in human action - and that is what makes his tale so heart-wrenching. Will likely be one of the very best films I will see this year.