Like "Grand Illusion", Renoir's "The Rules of the Game" almost became a 'lost art', made and shown in theaters at a time of imminent war, this film never had a single sympathy from neither sides, be it it's very own France, which banned it for morally repulsive contents, and of course the Nazi regime, which bans everything that moves. What's so great about this film is its humorous handling of its serious subject matter(extramarital affairs), making all the complex, secretive affairs seem playful, and all the participants look nothing farther than normal. I reckon the year this film was made, 1939, and again I'm awed at how even at the time where cinema is just learning the ropes, a period where directors are nothing but just experimenting with the technical diversities of the medium, Jean Renoir has created a most articulate, substantial film, looking into the Bourgeois life through both point of views of masters and servants, but never with any bias. Renoir crafted it with how both sides talk, how they think, and to act, while all the same never intruding the structure with his personal views. As subtle as it seems, Renoir's directorial presence is clear, knows when his characters will throw words, when to increase the sounds for further impact(the gunshots during the rabbit hunt), and when to go back and forth with farcical comedy and serious drama. The term 'presence' there can even be a literal one, as his prowess as an actor is also very much on display. I've just made an analysis on the Filipino novel "The Woman who Had Two Navels" by Nick Joaquin, and I've unearthed a most unusual similarity between him and Renoir; and it's how they put both the aristocrats and the lower ones on common thinking, on same inclinations. The novel dealt with how both embraces materialistic western influence. the latter, however, is more morally prevalent, as this film shows the commonalities of how both classes, however different, anticipates, adores, and plays with the universal idea of promiscuity. For once when they look at each other, they never stare at their contrast; they're looking at a mirror.