In one word: excruciating. I was advised to read some articles about this film's philosophical meanings afterward, but, having sat through the movie's interminable 115 minutes and being slowly crushed beneath its bloated symbolism and lava-flowing oppressiveness, it seemed better to just report my reactions to the movie. After all, who goes to see a movie with a syllabus in hand? And this flick was dismal. Lead actor Claude Laydu, from the film's opening to its end, wears the same wearying and annoying mask of agony as to be practically indistinguishable from the film's eternal, dreary voice-over. Filming one over the other might have worked better than subjecting an audience to both, as they basically say the same thing: The priest of Ambricourt is a wretched human being. The story, about a persecuted priest who tries to help out a troubled rich family, does nothing toward making its characters remotely interesting or sympathetic, as the family are a bunch of unpleasant weirdos, and the priest, himself, comes across as a nosy pest. The last 30 minutes suggests some breath-taking message about grace and one man's suffering equaling that of others, but due to all the indulgent close-ups of a suffering Laydu and the vague subtext in Robert Bresson's script, all I felt was, Finally, it's over, let's have some ice-cream. Interesting for fans of Bresson fanatic Paul Schrader, just to see how many elements of character and setting Schrader carried into in his own scripts and movies, especially "Taxidriver", "Raging Bull" and "Light Sleeper".