A few weeks ago I rented Roman de gare, a French film I’ve been wanting to see for over a year. I really enjoyed the movie but was anticipating a resolution to a small detail – a bit of conversation – that was never fulfilled. Despite appreciating the ending, I couldn’t shake my dissatisfaction.Without giving any major plot points away, here is the small detail:
Pierre has agreed to pretend to be Huguette’s fiancé while she visits her parents and daughter in the French countryside. Pierre goes fishing with Huguette’s daughter and when they return, they joke to Huguette that they have a secret. She is infuriated but has to let it go since her engagement dinner has begun.
I fully expected the secret between Pierre and Huguette’s daughter to be revealed at some point in the film. When it wasn’t, I got annoyed. Why would a writer reveal the existence of a secret only to have it remain a secret?
Like Chekhov’s gun, if a secret is referenced in early in a film, shouldn’t the secret be revealed in the end? As a writer, my instinct would be to insert something as loaded as a secret in order to exploit the secret later in the story.
But what about the use of withholding a reveal? Maybe a secret could be as ominous as a loaded gun sitting on the table. The knowledge of the secret could weigh heavily between people and create the tension of the story. A character might need to keep a secret and that could be his goal in the story; if the secret was revealed, that would be a failure on his part. All of these options would be predicated on the author’s aim.
But in Roman de gare I couldn’t see the reason for withholding the secret – until I looked more closely at the context of the secret. The secret between Pierre and Huguette’s daughter was not an important detail, a bit of information to be discovered. It was the mere existence of a secret that mattered, influencing a later confession by Huguette. (She assumes what the secret is and reveals the details to Pierre along with the fact that her daughter would know this information. Pierre says that isn’t the secret, pointing out that her daughter chose to keep that one to herself.)
The secret had become a minor plot device that was necessary for Huguette’s confession to happen. If she hadn’t felt threatened that Pierre had learned something about her she’d rather him not know, she never would have confessed. Her confession brings them closer and justifies Huguette’s actions in the final act of the film. All actions have consequences that lead to new actions that have more consequences and on and on. Viewed this way, the information being kept secret doesn’t matter.
Maybe the fact that I jumped the gun on the whole withheld secret thing says more about me than the screenplay. I do hate secrets so it was an emotional reaction as opposed to a writer’s instinct. And I think I elevated a minor plot device because I expected it to mean more. I have seen small details matter greatly in films before (I’ll talk about In Bruges another time) and assumed Roman de gare was the same type of film. I think in many ways it was, just not with this secret.
So, lessons learned:
One - Don’t assume all movies pay as much attention to detail as others.
Two - Even if the movie does pay attention to detail, don’t get too bogged down in picking which details are the most significant. Trust the author and, if she's any good, all will be revealed.
Three - When I write I know I can’t worry about a misinterpretation of a detail or plot device by my audience. Obviously, misinterpretations will happen. But it does call attention to being as clear and purposeful as possible with my writing. The best I can do is try to make details and plot devices intentional.
