Père

Less frequently performed than Miss Julie and The Dance of Death, the infernal, confined drama of The Father beautifully illustrates what Strindberg described as “the war that men as individuals perpetually engage in: ‘the struggle of minds’” through a couple whose initial rift arises from a disagreement concerning their daughter’s education.
This “conversation between man and woman” as the director presents it, is primarily a conversation of love: “Laura and Adolphe don’t know how to stop talking and hurting each other because they don’t know how to stop loving each other. They continue to talk to each other, while at war with each other, they continue to love each other, and we all share this fault.” Thus there is no guilty party in this tragedy, only beings who continually fail to understand each other, to agree, until their family is destroyed – the price to be paid for Laura to be freed, to the point of madness. In an intimate reading, Arnaud Desplechin pays tribute to Ingmar Bergman and Patrice Kerbrat, whose production of The Father on this same stage in 1991 left a deep impression on him. He is reunited with the Troupe with whom, as a filmmaker he has enjoyed a genuine companionship since 1996.