I had never seen one of Eric Rohmer’s “normal” films before watching Triple Agent. The films of his that I love, and there are many, are all from the thematic collections that built his cult fame: the Moral Tales, Comedies and Proverbs, and Tales of the Four Seasons. Triple Agent is one of his “other” films. It’s supposed to be a conventional spy film based on the real life case of Russian spy Nikolai Skoblin, who operated in France in 1936, seemingly playing the Communists, the Nazis and the White Russian contingent in France against each other simultaneously. The big question in my mind was how would Rohmer’s very definite tendencies as a filmmaker play out in a more mainstream film – you know, one with a plot and all that!

The answer to this question is: not very well, unfortunately. The whole things feels like Rohmer had two films he wanted to make – a spy film, and a film about a Greek painter-woman who befriends her upstairs neighbor by painting her child. The two are forced together in the guise of stylistic twist: the story of the spy is told almost entirely from the perspective of his wife!

I’m not saying the film isn’t entertaining. The wife is a typical Rohmer woman (any fan of Rohmer will instantly know what I’m talking about!) Much of the film is her talking about and discussing her paintings with her Communist lady-friend upstairs (played by Amanda Langlet, who was the anthropology student Margot in Rohmer’s A Summer’s Tale.) These conversations, which naturally feature extended shots of her (quite interesting) artwork, are pure Rohmeresque delight. But it’s hard to deny that their connection to her husband or the primary storyline is distant at best, beyond establishing the presence of living, breathing Communists in the city of Paris in 1936.

When the husband shows up in the film, the dialog tends to shift to a very thick and heavy discourse kind of like Rohmer’s My Night at Maud’s. This section of the film worked pretty well in the context of the spy film, because the husband basically talks in circles whenever he is asked anything. The guy loves to carry on about politics, art and philosophy, all in the context of “shop talk.” He is charming and voluble, and by the time he is done pontificating one is not quite sure what he has said, really, or if he ever answered the question. All you know if that you like the guy, despite being at arms length from him all the time. It is the natural evasiveness of the spy, tackled entirely through dialog, just as you would expect Rohmer to do.

As long as you are content to just enjoy these two tenuously joined halves, each bearing the pleasing signature of Eric Rohmer, the film is pretty enjoyable; it’s only when you start analyzing the film that you realize it didn’t really work as a whole. And the film stumbles a lot toward the end, when by virtue of the story’s trajectory there simply HAS to be a little action on screen. It winds up feeling a bit like a very dated Euro movie from the 60’s.

If you like Rohmer’s best known stuff, don’t be afraid to give Triple Agent a try. If you are new to Rohmer, I might start with something like Autumn Tale (Conte d’automne) from the Tales of the Four Seasons; it’s a totally charming film and probably the most mainstream-feeling movie he ever made. Rohmer is a bit of an acquired taste for some – get ready to process a hell of a lot of talking, and don’t expect too much action on screen (except jaws flapping, and maybe a little walking around every now and then!)