Erich Rohmer

People die everyday and while I do not believe that one human being's life is better than another's--there are people, whether you know them personally or not, who impact your life in ways unimagined by you and unknown to them.

Jean-Marie Maurice Scherer, better known to the Cinema world as Eric Rohmer died today at the age of 89. A full life.

As I devoured movies growing up, thirsting for experiencing life, and quickly outgrowing what the latest blockbusters had to offer, I sought the advice and guidance of a small movie guide which i found in an old bookstore. Time and again Rohmer's movies were given 5 stars.

The first one I took on was Pauline at the Beach, quickly followed by Claire's Knee and then My Night at Maud's and La Collectionneusse.



What a world I had discovered!
But curiously, it was all very real--very tangible. Up on the screen were real people, regular looking with regular lives and regular dilemmas. But the language, the radical thinking, the twisting conversations, the dialogue was what was different. These were not regular people. These were characters given life by someone who knew life better than anyone else. Someone with wit, compassion, humanity and lots of humor. No tricks, no effects, no gimmicks. Pure life with real issues and infinite questions about what we mean to each other and how quickly we can change our minds and our feelings. How a fling can end up costing you years of your life, only to end up in the arms of another without missing a beat.


He belonged to the productive group of his time consisting of no less than Jean-Pierre Melville, Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Agnes Varda, Alain Resnais, Jacques Rivette and Louis Malle.

A giant among giants, although he never considered himself a giant. He was having fun all along--enjoying what he was doing and even embracing new technologies like video and digital media.


Tonight I will sit back and watch his masterpiece again--Chloe in the Afternoon--and float back into a world where thinking and talking are the keys to the beginnings of understanding our tiny little foibles. Internal monologues, indecisions, doubts, discussions, ideas--discussing ideas...

Although his work will never be seriously considered in the same sentences as Godard or Welles or even Spielberg (GASP!!!) it is probable they will endure intellectually, which is precisely how it should be.

Had I not discovered Mr. Rohmer's films, I would be incomplete.

Ebert sums it up nicely: "Rohmer is the romantic philosopher of the French New Wave, the director whose characters make love with words as well as flesh. They are open to sudden flashes of passion, they become infatuated at first sight, but then they descend into doubt and analysis, talking intensely about what it all means. Because they're invariably charming, and because coincidence and serendipity play such a large role in his stories, this is more cheerful than it sounds. As he grows older Rohmer's heart grows younger, and at 81 he is more in tune with love than the prematurely cynical authors of Hollywood teen romances.".