Review: Diary of a Chambermaid

Published in 1900, Octave Mirbeau's novel The Diary of a Chambermaid was a subversive work, observing the monstrosities of the ruling class through the eyes of the titular chambermaid. Though championing the have nots by likening their domestic service as a modern form of enslavement, Mirbeau also took the lower classes to task for continuing the cycle of abuse in the rare instance when they did rise above their stations.

Mirbeau's work has been adapted to the screen thrice before: an all but forgotten 1916 Russian film, a highly ironic retelling by Jean Renoir in 1946, and an unsurprisingly cynical rendering by Luis Bunuel in 1964. Now comes Benoit Jacquot's take, more faithful to the text, elegantly mounted, but leeched of any dramatic intrigue or sense of purpose. Indeed, if any moral turpitude were hiding behind the surface, it has been obstructed by prevented from rising by the prevailing torpor.

Léa Seydoux stars as Célestine, previously essayed by Paulette Goddard for Renoir and Jeanne Moreau for Buñuel. Delectably impudent, the chambermaid has been sent to the French countryside to work for the Lanlaires. Madame Lanlaire (Clotilde Mollet) is a controlling and petty sort - she tells Célestine to spend less time outside, accuses her of stealing when the number of prunes doesn't tally up to her previous count, and makes her go up the stairs to fetch a needle before having her go back up again to get the thread and then send her upstairs once again for a pair of scissors. The Monsieur (Hervé Pierre) is no better - he all but ejaculates at the sight of Célestine, barely letting a minute pass before trying to grope her.

Flashbacks provide some insight into Célestine's cunning yet resigned nature. In the first, she's a saucy strumpet who bears witness to her mistress' humiliation during a train inspection scene. In the second, she's a compassionate caregiver to an old woman and her sickly grandson. The latter ends up incurably besotted with her and their coupling results in his untimely but blissful end.

It's difficult to be enthused about the film despite its observations about class, race and gender prejudices. One isn't quite sure if the problem lies in Jacquot's fidelity to the letter of the text rather than its spirit. This is a story whose satirical nature is almost predisposed to be tongue-in-cheek and borderline camp; perhaps Jacquot was concerned that taking that approach would have tipped the film into heavy breathing, bodice-busting territory but there's a way to do it without losing the thorniness of the satire as evidenced by the flashbacks.

If anything, Diary of a Chambermaid seems more an opportunity for Jacquot to marvel at leisure at his muse, who smolders under his camera's gaze. Seydoux delivers a multi-faceted performance, conveying all aspects of Célestine with conviction even if each individual scene never completely fits within the larger whole.

Diary of a Chambermaid (Journal d'une femme de chambre)

Directed by: Benoît Jacquot

Written by: Hélène Zimmer, Benoît Jacquot; based on the novel by Octave Mirbeau

Starring: Léa Seydoux, Vincent Lindon, Clotilde Mollet, Hervé Pierre, Mélodie Valemberg, Patrick d'Assumçao, Vincent Lacoste, Joséphine Derenne