Louis XIV
Jean-Pierre Léaud
Louis XIV

August 1715. After going for a walk, Louis XIV feels a pain in his leg. The next days, the king keeps fulfilling his duties and obligations, but his sleep is troubled and he has a serious fever. He barely eats and weakens increasingly. This is the start of the slow agony of the greatest king of France, surrounded by his relatives and doctors.
The Death of Louis XIV | Trailer | New Release Official
Louis XIV
Jean-Pierre Léaud
Louis XIV
Fagon, le médecin
Patrick d'Assumçao
Fagon, le médecin
Blouin, le valet de chambre
Marc Susini
Blouin, le valet de chambre
Mareschal, le chirurgien
Bernard Belin
Mareschal, le chirurgien
Madame de Maintenon
Irène Silvagni
Madame de Maintenon
Le Brun
Vicenç Altaió
Le Brun
Père Le Tellier
Jacques Henric
Père Le Tellier
Le Pelletier
Alain Lajoinie
Le Pelletier
Médecin 1
Olivier Cadiot
Médecin 1
Médecin 2
Philippe Crespeau
Médecin 2
Médecin 3
Alain Reynaud
Médecin 3
Médecin 4
Richard Plano
Médecin 4
I was wondering, as I watched this, just how the last few days of Queen Elizabeth II - herself reigning for almost as long - might have looked in comparison with this depiction of the last few days of the acclaimed 'Sun King". Somehow, I doubt she would have been surrounded by quite such a grouping of acolytes and sycophants. Such a collection of quacks and hangers-on riddled with an obsequiousness that would have made "Obadiah Slope" blush. The King has taken to his bed, at the age of 76, suffering from acute pains in his leg. Perched, rather uncomfortably, and adorned with a wig that would not have looked out of place on a lion, we spend the next few days watching this once great, stylish, flamboyant and shrewd man edge towards his meeting with his maker. Jean-Pierre Léaud doesn't really have a great deal to do here - occasionally sip some wine, or eat a biscuit, or take a short stroll around his couch. For the most part he lies there, breathing heavily, allowing the establishment around him to gradually unravel. His long-term lover Mme. de Maintenon (Irène Silvagni) is his principal source of comfort, Marc Susini his valet - a far grander role than the title suggests, tries to keep him contented and a collection of doctors all busy themselves about him - largely without the faintest idea of what is actually wrong much less how to treat their ailing monarch. If you are looking for something with pace, then this is certainly not for you. What Albert Serra delivers here is almost like a fly-on-the-wall documentary depicting the decline not just of the man, but of everything his life has stood for. The costumes look great and film relies on a lighting regime that is entirely plausible - if a little lacking in lux at times. The audio could maybe have been doing with a bit of a boost, but the serene effort from Léaud and the scenario itself provides adequate compensation as we, quite literally, watch the end of an era. On balance, I reckon the late Queen probably had a more private, and medically more competent, time of it....
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