The Taking of Power by Louis XIV

The Taking of Power by Louis XIV

A film by Roberto Rossellini

A film review


Roberto Rossellini is well known for propelling the neorealist genre of film. He strongly believed that his films could be a form of research. And his method was to “understand by re-living”. It was made for French television, which partly explains why it lacks the punch that cinema usually offers. I was wondering during my first viewing why it was so tedious and detailed, but at the same time, I thought that I could learn a lot from the efforts this film in showing the particulars of each ritual. And it was exactly that Rossellini believed in the capacity for television to have educational purposes that drew him to this medium. In this way, he often directed his films for television with the most realistic of minutiae and at true-to-life timing of activities that give us the impression of sincere and tangible events: the physician smelling a chamber pot for diagnosis, a maid forgetting to make her futon and rushing in the room before a noble enters, the gossip amongst the court subjects during the royal hunt. The dialogue was often lifted from actual historical writings, in this case: Madame de Sévigné, Saint-Simon, and Voltaire. He treats the primping and grovelling masquerade between Louis XIV’s subjects and himself with the same patience as if it were the main essence of the movie. He would take those so-called banal routes in the search for the finer truths.

The film starts with one of the only scenes that occur outside of the royal court, in the countryside, where peasants speak of the execution of the king of England. This sets up the bookends for what we know will happen not long after Louis XIV’s death, the French Revolution. Beginning in 1661, the death of Cardinal Mazarin gives the chance to the 22-year old Louis to truly govern as King, making all the decisions solely by himself. From there, he quickly and coarsely centralized his power and brought all the nobility to the court of Versailles.

Tag Gallagher’s film essay in the Special Features of the Criterion Collection DVD illuminates certain techniques Rossellini employed that are very subtle and seem natural within the film that are actually very carefully planned. Rossellini maintained that motion was emotion. And that physically moving deeper into a scene or across the frame conveyed another layer of feeling. It becomes a more inconspicuous way to create emotion, unlike an obvious soundtrack, of which this film has none. As an untrained viewer, without the knowledge of Rossellini’s lofty intentions, the emotion escapes most audience members. The movie will most likely feel dispassionate and tedious, and on the verge of stagnancy due to its slow pace. The paring down of a formidable figure into a fearful and slightly insolent youth makes the film worth talking about. Some people strongly disagree with the casting of Jean-Marie Patte, who played the role of Louis XIV, saying that his skill was so limited that it translated on film as emotionless and shallow. But on the contrary, Rossellini was said to have hand-picked him in particular due to his shyness in front of the camera. Rossellini actually preferred to work with untrained actors. Patte would often read some of his lines written on boards just outside of the camera’s field of view. And in this way, he conveyed the same sense of the agitated king searching for his words.


Throughout the entire film, the ritual of costume is treated with much significance. Firstly, there are elaborate costumes on everyone – plumed hats, tall shiny boots, layers and layers of cloth. So on all characters, peripheral or central, they are dressed to the nines. Then there is the emphasis of the dressing of the King, as the action itself. In the morning, it was an honour to watch the king rise, and the dressing of him was part of a ritual, along with the washing of his hands and face, and the confirmation that he performed his conjugal duties to the Queen. And near the end of the film, before reading from his philosophy books, he takes his time to undress, piece by piece, from his council meeting clothes, into his more comfortable study attire and then begins to read. And his second official order as King is for all the court to dress in black for mourning. Previously, it was the right permitted to royal blood only. He also states a conference with the master tailor is of the utmost importance. This is because shortly after the mourning, he wants to designate a completely new style of dress. One that is so over-the-top and weighty in cost that it will end up being the way Louis XIV domesticates the whole aristocracy. He instructs that the ensemble must cost close to one year’s salary and nonchalantly motions for more lace. Under all the expenses of keeping up with the trends, the exorbitant fees take their toll on the nobility, morphing them into preposterous walking dolls. Thus, Louis XIV used clothing as a means to control a totalitarian state. Rossellini had said that Louis XIV had an empirical understanding that vanity was a very real and solid thing that existed amongst everyone. And he used this knowledge to its maximum power.

Alongside of using clothing as a manifestation of his dictatorship, architecture also plays a large role. Château de Versailles was originally planned to house 12,000. In the film, Louis XIV orders the architect to increase it up to 15,000 people. And all of Versailles extravagant fountains and gardens are implemented to impress and, just as importantly, distract.

The entire film culminates to this: Louis is at the peak of his disproportionate indulgence, with a solitary 17-course meal while the whole court watches him nibble indifferently on a plethora of exotic dishes. The camera slowly dollies backwards and outwards from the table, through the room, past all the courtiers and ladies. In an interview with Rossellini’s son, who directed that scene in Rossellini’s brief absence, he reveals that he used a crane in order to capture the shot. It is quite the disclosure as Rossellini was very against cranes, calling them “vulgar and stupid.” His disdain for flashy, quick cuts and artificial movement stay true to his thesis. It is in his subtleties and his idea of costume and its prominence in the effects of ruling a nation that administers this film’s potency.