Like many of us, my only knowledge of the philosophy of Blaise Pascal comes from an introductory philosophy course in college, and all of it that I recall is "Pascal's Wager": If God exists, the consequences of believing or not believing are infinite; if he doesn't the adverse consequences of mistakenly believing in him are trivial. Therefore, as a rational gambler, one would choose to believe.
An interesting proposition for discussion in college bull sessions, but hardly typical conversational material for any American adult today, unless by a Ph.D. in philosophy.
The French are -- or at least were -- different. In Éric Rohmer's 1969 film, My Night at Maud's, Pascal's philosophical opinions form not only an underlying theme of the movie, but are a subject of recurrent interested conversation by four young adults. Somehow, someone is always walking to a friend's bookcase and pulling out a copy of Pascal's Pensées for consultation. (Clermont was Pascal's home town, which no doubt kept him in the characters' consciousness.)
Two old friends who haven't seen each other for years meet on the street in Clermont, France. They have coffee together, and then dinner. Jean-Louis is a practicing Catholic; Vidal is a Marxist. Rather than jump at each other's throats, like a Trumpist and a liberal in today's America, they ponder in a long, intelligent conversation, relaxed and at times humorous, how Pascal's philosophy fits or does not fit with their own beliefs.
Although Pascal was a Catholic, Jean-Louis dislikes his mathematical, "statistical" approach to faith. Vidal, although a Marxist, finds this mathematical approach congenial, but not sufficiently persuasive. Both understand and appreciate the other's position, and enjoy discussing their agreements and disagreements.
They find much in common, but essentially reach different conclusions. To me, what makes the movie fascinating isn't the details of their discussions, but that two young men from opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum would, upon meeting, discuss anything other than their teams' World Cup hopes. Also fascinating is that the film won the Palme d'Or at Cannes, and here in America was nominated for 1969 Oscars for best Foreign Film and best Original Screenplay. I do seem to remember that movie audiences were more serious in 1969, and maybe they were.
Vidal tells the rather shy Jean-Louis that he is meeting his girl friend Maud that evening, and invites him to come along. After some hesitation, he agrees. Jean-Louis had just noticed a young woman, Françoise, at church, and is still experiencing the exciting conviction that she is the woman he wants to meet and eventually marry. But he accompanies his friend to Maud's house.
Vidal and Maud had been lovers, but their relationship has evolved into friendship. Vidal leaves Jean-Louis with Maud for the night -- a snow storm makes driving to Jean-Louis's country house hazardous. Jean-Louis is uncomfortable, both for reasons of morality and because of his attraction to Françoise. Maud's seductive behavior makes him only more uncomfortable, although she claims she wants him only for company and as a friend. He ends up sleeping on her bed, but fully clothed and above the covers.
Rather than sex, they discuss Pascal's approach to the problem of predestination. Jean-Louis agrees with it, Vidal had not, and Maud -- as a total unbeliever -- feels that the question is meaningless. What she does recognize is that Jean-Louis considers himself predestined to marry Françoise -- a fellow Catholic -- and to have no further dalliances with other women. She is rather cross, but as in many French movies they end their night as friends.
Five years later, Jean-Louis and Françoise, now married and accompanied by their child, run into Maud while visiting the beach. Maud is still unmarried, and somewhat sad, but they chat for a few moments graciously. Maud was right -- Jean-Louis would marry the Catholic girl. Jean-Louis sees himself as right as well-- it had been predestined.
The dialogue is excellent, and the black and white photography of urban Clermont and surrounding countryside -- in mid-winter and in the snow -- was beautiful. The philosophy was unfamiliar enough at times to be over my head, but that hardly detracted from my enjoyment of the film. It is understandable, even if a bit surprising, how this film was successful enough in American art houses to justify its subsequent general release.
Back when films were adult.
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