The rare thing about "A Tale of Springtime"--and this is much to Rohmer's credit--is that Jeanne, the central character, gets to live her own script. The backdrop here is a week or so of rather mundane goings-on and minute realizations, all taking place a step away from her normal comfort zone.

The test for Jeanne, the young saturnine philosophy teacher, is to maintain her freedom and integrity in the face of psychic and social trappings that crop up after having lost her apartments, and/or the orderly interior space that sustains her autonomy. For her this means a calm outward demeanor, thoughtfulness in every sense, and the discernment of emotions and sentiment. Jeanne's more "fanatic about other people's freedom" than her own and far more aware of her own intrusiveness than she is of those who plague her.

So much of the film seems to revolve around the concept of containment or Jeanne's self-containment versus the containers often supplied by the other characters in the movie.

Natasha rescues Jeanne from homelessness only to provide her own crowded spaces. Her convincingly affectionate and youthful friendship rather soon gives way to manipulative match-making, and an expressed pouting hatred for both her mother and her father's partner. Jeanne's clear disinclination to any match (sometimes not so convincing because of a single flaw in the film's script) with Natasha's father immediately and subsequently hems her into the painful position of being an invasive, even dangerous house-mate. And what is more important, Natasha's orbital switch from Jeanne to her father all but ends their building friendship. Jeanne counters "You never mention your mother except to criticize her.

Igor, Jeanne's father, presents a more dramatic challenge to Jeanne's integrity. He too is fairly convincing in his own budding considerate friendship with Jeanne-- this despite the foreshadowing of the reverse in his buttoned-up, hunched physicality (even his hair looks more like a toupee). And even despite Natasha's gauche hints that he deems Jeanne "not too old" (she is 10 years younger than he) for him and that "he said your not a school marm" and "he doesn't look at a homely woman--a typical charmer." But Natasha's romance set-up at the country place, reveals him for the womanizer he is underneath his "poetic", smart, youthful way of life. He literally blames Jeanne's caution as shamming which, of course, makes it easier for Jeanne to escape his menacing trap, and to put an end to his controlling friendship. "I'd never love anyone madly. I'm not mad." says Jeanne. And she retaliates with anger at Natasha's manipulative assumptions about her own partnership with Mathieu.

Eve, Igor's partner, distinctly more world and career bound than Jeanne, doesn't so much present Jeanne with a test, but she rather serves as a confirmation of Jeanne's integrity. But Jeanne continually allies herself with Eve because she senses her independence, intelligence, and passion for work. And most importantly, she grasps that she may be "Eve" or "vampire" or "hysteric" to Natasha and Igor, but not to her. So, she is invariably cognizant of Eve's position and directly defends her speech and actions, understanding that there is a real connection between Eve and Natasha's "evil" mother, and thus equally defensible. Jeanne is also able to communicate to Eve a great deal about her work-- the why, how and where of it--teaching real philosophy to working class students.

Lesser characters provide problems of their own for Jeanne. Her cousin proves herself no real friend by selfishly taking full advantage of Jeanne's kindness in extending her "sublease;" and Mathieu, Jeanne's partner, more than being just poetically sloppy (Jeanne can express sheer hatred for his place) is very seemingly a trap man himself, planning a unilateral move and a marriage into the bargain.

The pleasant plot turn at the end of "Springtime" may suggest some relief for Natasha, and a wee bit for Jeanne, but this happy turn is more momentary than deep. And we know there will be little cessation in Jeanne's vigilant thought life, which seems to be the center piece of this tale.

...only having to read it. This installment of Eric Rohmer's tribute to the seasons is good but boring (assuming you don't consider those two qualities mutually exclusive). "A Tale of Spring" is all a tedious, uneventful, all-dialogue flick about some very mundane, pedestrian goings-on in the lives of an 18 year old French girl, her father, her father's girl friend, and an adult female teacher. It's a long road to nowhere with a lot of subtitle reading for non-French speakers (I watched a cablecast version) and a movie only Roger Ebert (who charitably gave it 3.5 stars) and others with their heads into cinema could love. Not recommended for the general film-going public. (C)

Eric Rohmer has a lot to answer for; he has probably inspired more inept would-be film directors than anyone living. The problem is that you watch a Rohmer film - and A Tale Of Springtime is a prime example -and say to yourself, Jeez, I could do that and whilst the more mature and well-balanced leave it at that far too many untalented persuade the equally ungifted in charge of doling out Lottery money that they COULD do it and we wind up with far more banjo pics than we need.

Rohmer's style - and I use the word loosely - is to cut abruptly a beat, or two or three, before a scene reaches a natural conclusion, pad out the story, when he deigns to provide one, with meaningless shots - in this case a country road viewed from the perspective of a car driver/passenger which contributes less than nothing to whatever is going on - or even better he'll have two people in a car - again as here - and one will give a direction like 'turn left at the river' and in the next shot they have, presumably, reached their destination some 35 miles away, the car is nowhere in sight, they are in a garden and we have to ASSUME the garden belongs to the cottage to which they were driving. More? Okay, how about a rambling philosophical discussion over dinner, four main actors who seem to be reacting to dialogue/situations from at least four different and unconnected films and a 'missing' necklace ultimately located in one of the most improbable and risible scenes in cinematic history.

On the other hand they'll love it in the Groves of Academe and in those Pseuds Corners otherwise known as the 'culture' programmes on television. If you like disciplined film-making, a strong story told in the 'old-fashioned' grammatical way, i.e. Master Shot, Long Shot, Mid Shot, Two-Shot, Three-Shot seamlessly interspersed with Fades, Dissolves and Cuts then this one will give you nightmares.