2 of 2

I'll be honest: this film is hard going. People often refer to Bresson's films as "rigorous" or "austere," and A Man Escaped is quintessential: there's little dialogue and long silences, we're as cut off from beauty and certainty as the character whose prison cell we share, and the story itself is stripped down to absolute essentials—cold, hard physical reality, and the will to escape.

If you're looking for more accessible prison movies that touch on these spiritual questions—hope in the face of despair, the power of human relationship in a place of terrible inhuman isolation—I would recommend The Shawshank Redemption or To End All Wars. But if you've got an evening free of distractions and you're ready to experience a true landmark of spiritual cinema, let me point you to A Man Escaped. As with so many truly great films, you may want to view it more than once, to talk about the film with friends and to read up on it—on the Web, at your local university library.

Letterier and a fellow prisoner plan their getaway

But don't get the idea that this film is an intellectual puzzle that has to be picked apart and philosophized over to make any sense. The fact is, it can be a remarkably powerful experience the first time you view it, its suspense gradually building to excruciating intensity—frankly, this film made me breathless the way few Hitchcocks ever have. And the master director accomplishes all of this with incredible restraint and nuance. It's nothing short of a wonder that so stark and minimal a film can create such potent feelings, images and moments that linger so persistently, divine intimations that seem so inescapable.

________

The DVD release is as stripped-down and essential as the movie itself, with no extras except the original French trailer for the film (without subtitles). That trailer, though, stands by itself as a miniature work of art, consisting of many shots not used in the feature film, and closing with an extended shot of a blank prison wall, with only the sound of a choir singing the "Dona nobis pacem."

1. This film is adapted from the memoir of Andre Devigny, a Catholic French Resistance fighter who was imprisoned in Montluc prison during WWII. Devigny writes, "There were two elements in this plan: mine and God's. Where, I wondered, was the dividing-line set? Alas, I could not tell; but I felt that heaven would only aid my grimly resolute struggle insofar as I threw every physical and moral reserve I possessed into the balance." Where do you see God's hand in the events of the story?
   
   
2. Like many prison movies, this one moves from a sense of complete isolation to the creation—against all odds—of real community. What acts of kindness and self-sacrifice break down the walls between characters in this hostile environment, and aid Fontaine in his efforts to escape?
   
   
3. One of the prisoners is a pastor, arrested while delivering a sermon, who once dreamt of being alone with his Bible. What do you think of his apparent lack of interest in escape from the prison?
   
   

There is nothing here to offend: the film contains no offensive language or sexual behavior, and any acts of violence occur off-camera. But younger viewers are likely to be bored by the slow pace.

Copyright © 2004 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

first page |  2 of 2