Films being booed at Cannes has stopped being newsworthy. Over the years, countless pictures were received by a chorus of boos when they bowed at the Croisette, either because of their daring qualities or the transgressive nature of their subject matters. Rare is the true mediocrity that earns boos. For those unhappy films, indifference is a more common laurel than a crown of controversy. One of the most famous examples of a film being publicly reviled at Canne was in the 1987 edition when Maurice Pialat's Under the Sun of Satan was unanimously voted as the Palme d'Or winner only to be lambasted on the spot by a furious audience.
Accepting his award amid the vitriolic chaos, the first French director to win that honor since 1966, spoke with his usual combativeness...
"I shall not fail to uphold my reputation. I am particularly pleased by all the protests and whistles directed at me this evening, and if you do not like me, I can say that I do not like you either."
As time goes by, Under the Sun of Satan has become one of the most forgotten Palme d'Or honorees, mainly remembered for the controversy it spurred. As the film is now available on the Criterion Channel, it's a good time to reflect upon this fate. Did Under the Sun of Satan deserve the boos?
Adapted from a novel by Georges Bernanos, Under the Sun of Satan is an ascetic tale of faith unraveled, examined and reignited. Far from declaring open war on the spectator with abrasive defiance, Pialat is reserved in his style. His detachment comes close to alienation, preferring a spartan style to deal with matters of the spirit. In its heart, this represents a frugally secular way of portraying faith, draining the story of any kind of ecstatic divinity. In one of the most bracing passages, we find our protagonist, a young priest played by Gerard Depardieu, talking to a mysterious salesman. The man might be the Devil, but Pialat refuses to overtly underline the cosmic significance of the moment.
Such contention forces us to engage with the material in a profound manner. The audience has to spar with the ideas the film illuminates for Pialat's formal presentation refuses to offer a predigested assimilation of the story and its portentous themes. It's austere cinema, verging on minimalism, a meditation on the varying natured of faith, evil, sanctity and, above all else, doubt. If there is one aspect where the film seems to court controversy is its foreshadowing of doubt as an intrinsic element of religious belief. Like Dreyer's Ordet, there are miracles to be found on the conclusion of Under the Sun of Satan, but here they are birthed out of a womb of uncertainty rather than being children of unwavering credence.
With few cuts, long glacial scenes and dialogues dense with intellectual reflection, every filmmaking choice that appears seems to carry with it a great weight. The result is a film that's as haunting as it is modest, a portrait of pastoral quotidian as a place where holiness can sprout from deep misery, where miracles are both unfathomable mysteries and tactile certainties. Amid this cinematic cosmos, each person is a universe and the mere communion of two souls in honest conversation is as awe-inspiring as resurrection. It's easy to imagine such a construct failing to impress, but Pialat's discipline proves too awesome to crumble and his actors can perfectly translate the complex notions of his vision. Depardieu, Sandrine Bonaire, and Jean-Christophe Bouvet, in particular, have seldom been better than here.
All in all, Under the Sun of Satan is a film I consider to be in the top 10 best Palme d'Or winners of all time, making its odious reception an irritating conundrum. Looking back at the 1987 competitive slate, it's easy to see some of the other likely favorites. Tengiz Abuladze's Repentance and Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire may have earned the support of the critics at the festival, but that still doesn't justify the reception of Pialat's masterpiece. Because of that, I beseech you to gaze upon the wonders of Under the Sun of Satan and make your own conclusions. As for the question that titles this piece, my answer must seem obvious by now.
Did Under the Sun of Satan deserve the boos? No.