The Kidnapping of Michel Houellebecq (2014) - Nicloux
Michel Houellebecq, the énfant terrible of French Literature, is regarded by many as the best European writer to emerge in decades. My first Houellebecq was Elementary Particles in the late 90s- the book was repulsive, depraved, nihilistic and shocking but I couldn't put it down. I gotta admit that I am a big fan. I've read all his books since then. What's great about his work is, however incendiary and miserablist it might sound, there is always much humanism that runs through at its core.
However, he's been accused of being an Islamophobe for some incendiary passages in many of his novels, namely Platform. It was his caricature on the cover of Charlie Hebdo when the place was shot up by Islamic militants, leaving 12 people dead early this year. The cover's title ran: 'Predictions of the future by Houellebecq: in 2015, I lose my teeth, in 2022, I observe ramadan.' It was the satirical paper's take on his new novel, Submission, where fictional France has a Muslim president in 2022 and all of Europe 'submits' to Muslim. He had to fold his book promotion and go into a retreat in an undisclosed location.
The infamous author is keenly aware of his mortality. In his 2010 book, The Map and the Territories (Prix Goncourt winner), a writer named Houellebecq gets brutally murdered, his body splayed in his pad, totally unrecognizable. Yes, he has a very grim sense of humor about himself and very aware of the real danger.
Obviously predating the Charlie Hebdo incident, director Guilloume Nicloux (The Nun) directs a documentary style comedy based on Houellebecq's brief disappearance during a book promotional tour in 2011. With his dislikes for cellphones and computers, no one could locate his whereabouts for several weeks, bringing French media into hysteria, fearing for the worst. He came back as if nothing has happened and being tight-lipped about the absence ever since.
The Kidnapping of Michel Houellebecq stars Houellebecq as himself. It starts slowly, following the very unattractive, cumudgeonly writer- with balding head and a troll-like underbite, as he goes through his normal days - talking to his friends about art, literature and music. He seems to lead a rather quiet existence, for a person who is regarded as 'the most controversial author of our time'. Most of the time he seems docile except when his opinionated crankiness coming to the fore- he chides his old friend in his indecipherable mumble for her terrible piano playing and says things like how Mozart is overrated.
He gets kidnapped from his highrise apartment by three burly men, the brothers Luc, Max and Mathieu who put him in a big metal box with air holes punched in on top. Obviously quite new at this sort of thing, they bring the author to their parent's house and ties his cuffed hands to a bed post with a chain in what appears to have been a little girl's room. Luc, a large man who claims to be a gypsy, has a beef with Houellebecq because apparently the author shat on HP Lovecraft in one of his books. The writer vehemently denies it, saying, "Don't believe everything media tells you".
Houellebecq muses loudly in front of the brothers why they are not masked. Does this mean they will kill him? No no no, they assure him that the captivity will be over as soon as they get paid by their clients, whoever they are. Do they know what they are doing? "Oh, let us worry about that!"
The author starts getting on people's nerves with incessant whining and demands for cigarette and wine. There is a running gag of Houellebecq yelling out for lighter that Luc apparently stole from him. What's he gonna do, start a fire?
There are many hysterical scenes as unwitting brothers asking him questions about literature and reciting poem they wrote in the 8th grade for him to judge. The brothers being into weightlifting (Mathieu) and martial arts (Max is a UFC style fighter, Luc trained in Isreali army), they show off their skills in front of the frail writer. They teach him a move or two to even try out on them. They even get a local young woman named Fatima at his request for his enjoyment. Well first it's Gigette, the boys' old mother who suggests the bored writer porn, in which he responds, "I'd prefer a real thing?"
As his release date gets pushed back further into unknown, a sort of reverse Stockholm syndrome sets in - even though the differences they have, they like this little troll of a man. Wryly funny and surprisingly heartwarming, The Kidnapping successfully puts a human face on the infamous, supposedly hate mongering public persona.
In this day and age, it's difficult to drown out all the noises in the media as to get to the truth of it all. It is a common mistake to assume a fictional character's view on life as his/her creator. Judging Houellebecq's world view by the characters he created would be as absurd as shooting up Charlie Hebdo headquarters because they publish satirical cartoons. Nicloux's film then, is a light satire on a famous public figure and slap in the face for those who can't take a joke. The bottom line is, the film is very funny.
The Kidnapping of Michel Houellebecq has an exclusive 2-week run engagement at Film Forum, NY. Please visit Kino Lorber website for more info
Monday, March 23, 2015
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Preparing for Apocalypse
Parabellum (2015) - Rinner
It's early morning. It starts with the lush landscape and the camera slowly pans to reveal a tranquil greenery. The opening of Parabellum reminds you of the opening scene of Carlos Reygada's Silent Light, except for imposing beat of electro music. You know something's gonna go down. Then a firebomb strikes down from the sky and the earth shakes, setting up the mood for the rest of the film.
In Lukas Valenta Rinner's Parabellum, the world is in turmoil - there are constant reminder of natural disasters, civil unrest on TV newscast and airwaves- "A tragic situation is developing in Argentina."
We focus on an unnamed man preparing for a journey: he quits his white color office job, drops off his cat at the pet shelter, checks on his old man at the nursing home and cancels his phone service. The whole sequence is briskly and impeccably arranged with much precision. He is going into the jungle to join a training camp designed for survival.
The camp looks like a cross between fancy eco-tourist lodge & military boot camp, equipped with a jacuzzi, pool, shooting range and staff who make beds and serve food. Ordinary looking men and women of all shapes and sizes, go through vigorous physical and theoretical training. Each morning, the compound makes an announcement through the loud speakers. Before their mandatory trainings at a set time, they can choose to take part in gardening, homemade explosives or camouflage classes.
The trainees who populate these compounds are obviously well off to be there, as if money can buy one's survival. But Rinner doesn't really linger on these trifles, for the film is, after initial chuckles, not a black comedy.
Almost free of dialog (other than formal instructions by the trainers) and divided in chapters according to the fictional "Book of Disasters", Parabellum's tone is somber and deadly serious. Nowhere is safe, the seemingly random strikes comes from the sky. Even into their camp grounds.
After the grueling, first initial training - hand to hand combat, weapons training, etc., the people are transferred by boat, to a more remote areas to train more. As the film progresses, it focuses on a handful of trainees.
The real violent act doesn't happen until after the training. After taking over somebody's house, they take up a boat. It becomes quite apparent that they would sail themselves back to the civilization. One of the younger, frail trainees seems to have a mental breakdown and lights himself and the boat on fire. But we have no idea why these people do what they do because the film provides little to no indication of what they think or feel. All we know is, most of the trainees are motivated to be prepared, to be ready for the worst.
Its minimalistic, wideshot approach and emotional muteness, Parabellum plays out like a Gus Van Sant directed post-apocalyptic film. With the spectacular reveal at the end, the film signals the arrival of a major talent emerging from Argentina.
Parabellum plays as part of ND/NF 2015 at MoMA on 3/23 and at FSLC on 3/24. Q&A with director Lukas Valenta Rinner will follow for both screenings. For more info, please visit ND/NF website.
Dustin Chang is a freelance writer. His musings and opinions on the world can be found at www.dustinchang.com
It's early morning. It starts with the lush landscape and the camera slowly pans to reveal a tranquil greenery. The opening of Parabellum reminds you of the opening scene of Carlos Reygada's Silent Light, except for imposing beat of electro music. You know something's gonna go down. Then a firebomb strikes down from the sky and the earth shakes, setting up the mood for the rest of the film.
In Lukas Valenta Rinner's Parabellum, the world is in turmoil - there are constant reminder of natural disasters, civil unrest on TV newscast and airwaves- "A tragic situation is developing in Argentina."
We focus on an unnamed man preparing for a journey: he quits his white color office job, drops off his cat at the pet shelter, checks on his old man at the nursing home and cancels his phone service. The whole sequence is briskly and impeccably arranged with much precision. He is going into the jungle to join a training camp designed for survival.
The camp looks like a cross between fancy eco-tourist lodge & military boot camp, equipped with a jacuzzi, pool, shooting range and staff who make beds and serve food. Ordinary looking men and women of all shapes and sizes, go through vigorous physical and theoretical training. Each morning, the compound makes an announcement through the loud speakers. Before their mandatory trainings at a set time, they can choose to take part in gardening, homemade explosives or camouflage classes.
The trainees who populate these compounds are obviously well off to be there, as if money can buy one's survival. But Rinner doesn't really linger on these trifles, for the film is, after initial chuckles, not a black comedy.
Almost free of dialog (other than formal instructions by the trainers) and divided in chapters according to the fictional "Book of Disasters", Parabellum's tone is somber and deadly serious. Nowhere is safe, the seemingly random strikes comes from the sky. Even into their camp grounds.
After the grueling, first initial training - hand to hand combat, weapons training, etc., the people are transferred by boat, to a more remote areas to train more. As the film progresses, it focuses on a handful of trainees.
The real violent act doesn't happen until after the training. After taking over somebody's house, they take up a boat. It becomes quite apparent that they would sail themselves back to the civilization. One of the younger, frail trainees seems to have a mental breakdown and lights himself and the boat on fire. But we have no idea why these people do what they do because the film provides little to no indication of what they think or feel. All we know is, most of the trainees are motivated to be prepared, to be ready for the worst.
Its minimalistic, wideshot approach and emotional muteness, Parabellum plays out like a Gus Van Sant directed post-apocalyptic film. With the spectacular reveal at the end, the film signals the arrival of a major talent emerging from Argentina.
Parabellum plays as part of ND/NF 2015 at MoMA on 3/23 and at FSLC on 3/24. Q&A with director Lukas Valenta Rinner will follow for both screenings. For more info, please visit ND/NF website.
Dustin Chang is a freelance writer. His musings and opinions on the world can be found at www.dustinchang.com
Friday, March 20, 2015
Kafka in Inner Mongolia
K (2015) - Erdenibulag, Richard
Here is a thought: what if Kafka's Castle is transposed from the cramped, dreary, dark Eastern European city to the airy, spacious, light Inner Mongolia? It is realized by Mongolian director Darhad Erdenibulag and English born Emyr ap Richard in their simply titled film, K. They put a new twist on Kafka's unfinished, ultimate bureaucratic nightmare story (along with The Trial).
Frizzy haired land surveyor K (Bayin) arrives in a village in the middle of nowhere. He gets a very hostile reception from the locals and can't seem to get an access to either the castle or the governor Klamm who supposedly has assigned him the job. His path crosses with series of beautiful women who string him along and feed him only snippets of information at a time which don't amount to much and often contradict each other.
With his two assigned leather jacket wearing assistants (both of whom he names Jeremiah, for convenience's sake), K tries to wade through local bureaucracy and get to the bottom of the nature of his role.
Then he is told that his service is not needed anymore that there was a miscommunication. Now he has to report to the local school to be a school janitor. It seems that it's a taboo to criticize the castle and its bureaucracy because it's flawless even though it's obviously not. I mean, his whole situation is bungled.
It also seems that all the Castle employees are feared and all the girls are only at their disposal for sexual favors. A beautiful mistress of Klamm, Frieda (Jula) who works as a barmaid, becomes K's companion but ultimately leaves him for another, less important man (is it Jeremiah or Arthur?). But in order to not to piss off all mighty but unseen Klamm, she needs to go back to the being a barmaid.
Directors smartly stick to Kafka's dialog and western names faithfully and through Mongolian actors and their language, the effect is quite otherworldly. Other than K wandering windswept landscape in the opening, the rest of the film takes place exclusively in simple interiors mostly with natural lighting. It has an airy, hazy feeling of eternal morning. Everyone, including K sleeps a lot and conduct their business in their beds. With eternal sunlight seeping through the windows, K has a feeling of lucid dreaming state.
Concerning the film, only comparison I can think of is Erik Skjoldbjærg's neo noir classic, Insomnia. Of course K doesn't really work as a thriller, but with its somnambulist protagonist who finds himself lost in a moral and literal fog and paranoia is very similar to that of the Norwegian film. I didn't think of the Skjoldbjærg's film as Kafkaesque before. Heh.
K is a different, artful interpretation of the source material for sure. But Kafka's writing is usually associated with grim reality and unfathomable pressure associated with living in a certain immobile social stature: life as an entrapment. Not to mention the author being Jewish in an oppressive society.
Bureaucracy can be universal, but compare to the characters in Kafka's original writings, what Mongolian K is experiencing seems not quite hopeless enough. As one of the characters says to K in the film, "Sometimes the smallest thing can become a great irritancy"; for us, irritation seems to describe what K feels, not life-long suffering.
K plays part of ND/NF 2015 on 3/21 at FSLC & 3/22 at MoMA. Co-director Darhad Erdenibulag will be on hand for Q & A. For more info, please visit ND/NF website.
Here is a thought: what if Kafka's Castle is transposed from the cramped, dreary, dark Eastern European city to the airy, spacious, light Inner Mongolia? It is realized by Mongolian director Darhad Erdenibulag and English born Emyr ap Richard in their simply titled film, K. They put a new twist on Kafka's unfinished, ultimate bureaucratic nightmare story (along with The Trial).
Frizzy haired land surveyor K (Bayin) arrives in a village in the middle of nowhere. He gets a very hostile reception from the locals and can't seem to get an access to either the castle or the governor Klamm who supposedly has assigned him the job. His path crosses with series of beautiful women who string him along and feed him only snippets of information at a time which don't amount to much and often contradict each other.
With his two assigned leather jacket wearing assistants (both of whom he names Jeremiah, for convenience's sake), K tries to wade through local bureaucracy and get to the bottom of the nature of his role.
Then he is told that his service is not needed anymore that there was a miscommunication. Now he has to report to the local school to be a school janitor. It seems that it's a taboo to criticize the castle and its bureaucracy because it's flawless even though it's obviously not. I mean, his whole situation is bungled.
It also seems that all the Castle employees are feared and all the girls are only at their disposal for sexual favors. A beautiful mistress of Klamm, Frieda (Jula) who works as a barmaid, becomes K's companion but ultimately leaves him for another, less important man (is it Jeremiah or Arthur?). But in order to not to piss off all mighty but unseen Klamm, she needs to go back to the being a barmaid.
Directors smartly stick to Kafka's dialog and western names faithfully and through Mongolian actors and their language, the effect is quite otherworldly. Other than K wandering windswept landscape in the opening, the rest of the film takes place exclusively in simple interiors mostly with natural lighting. It has an airy, hazy feeling of eternal morning. Everyone, including K sleeps a lot and conduct their business in their beds. With eternal sunlight seeping through the windows, K has a feeling of lucid dreaming state.
Concerning the film, only comparison I can think of is Erik Skjoldbjærg's neo noir classic, Insomnia. Of course K doesn't really work as a thriller, but with its somnambulist protagonist who finds himself lost in a moral and literal fog and paranoia is very similar to that of the Norwegian film. I didn't think of the Skjoldbjærg's film as Kafkaesque before. Heh.
K is a different, artful interpretation of the source material for sure. But Kafka's writing is usually associated with grim reality and unfathomable pressure associated with living in a certain immobile social stature: life as an entrapment. Not to mention the author being Jewish in an oppressive society.
Bureaucracy can be universal, but compare to the characters in Kafka's original writings, what Mongolian K is experiencing seems not quite hopeless enough. As one of the characters says to K in the film, "Sometimes the smallest thing can become a great irritancy"; for us, irritation seems to describe what K feels, not life-long suffering.
K plays part of ND/NF 2015 on 3/21 at FSLC & 3/22 at MoMA. Co-director Darhad Erdenibulag will be on hand for Q & A. For more info, please visit ND/NF website.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Beyond Beauty and Knowledge
La Sapienza (2014) - Green
La Sapienza is the latest from Eugène Green, an American born, French filmmaker known for his highly theatrical, Bressonian films. Highly esoteric, the film will undoubtedly turn off many viewers with its intentionally stilted acting where actors often address the audience directly. My first experience with Green film was Le pont des Arts, it concerned with the transcending power of music beyond time and space. I was too, put off by this aesthetic choice at first, but got used to it by the middle and ended up adoring the film.
There are no Altmanesque, overlapping conversations like in real life in the world Green creates. Instead, people talk in their turns, medium shot/reverse medium shot back and forth in dead seriousness, in order to convey the weighty subjects concerning art, and this time, architecture.
The thing is, the emphasis Green puts on dialog is tremendous and the idea he wants to get across is simple but always lofty. Green, from a theater background, saw the direct approach of the theater fit to convey these ideas and have been sticking with it in his filmmaking ever since.
The method, I thought at first pretentious but slowly found less cluttered by the petty human emotions and other 'worldly' things, helps to get to the heart of the matter(s) directly. Ultimately, it's Green's dialog that brings back humanity down to earth and gives his films poignancy.
La Sapienza stars Fabrizio Rongione (Two Days, One Night) as Alexandre Schmidt, a French architect tracing his steps of his idol, a Roman Baroque architect Borromini, starting in his picturesque birthplace Ticino. Alexandre has lost his ways as an architect, mired in corporate city planning which lacks humanity. He is joined by his estranged psychologist wife Aliénor (Christelle Prot) to accompany him at the conference. They grew apart some time even though they love each other.
They run into two young Italian siblings Godfredo (Ludovico Succio) and Lavinia (Arianna Nastro) near the picturesque lake promenade. It's Lavinia's mysterious fainting spell that brings them together - kind-hearted Aliénor insists to be by Lavinia's bedside and suggests Alexandre to take Godfredo, a bright eyed aspiring architect, to accompany him for his research trip, instead of her. Alexandre begrudgingly accept the idea out of politeness.
At this point film becomes two distinctive narratives: one in Italian with Alexandre and Godfredo on the road and mostly in French with Aliénor with Lavinia indoors.The guys establish teacher pupil relationship as they tour various Borromini designed, glorious buildings in different cities. But it turns out Godfredo is the teacher, reminding the old man with his youthful idealism that architecture can be one's passion, that purpose for architecture is to fill the space with light and people.
As it turns out, through dialog, we find out Alexandre and Aliénor grew apart after a loss of a child. Young Lavinia's belief that her illness is some sort of sacrifice starts making sense to Aliénor.
Uncharacteristically, Green himself makes a cameo in his own film for the first time as one of the last descendants of a tribe from Iran who spoke Aramaic. Even though their culture's gone and their language lost, he serves as a foreseer who reads stars and shows that there is hope for Aliénor, because she is loved.
These lofty ideas - rekindling passion for life through the reflection on youth, the transcending power of art, the harmony in architecture and in life, the eternal nature of culture and language, things beyond beauty and knowledge, etc. are all delicately explored and examined through these four characters. Their sincere expression of these thoughts rings true and melts away its artificiality in its presentation soon enough. This is the beauty of La Sapienza and Green films in general. As the older couple realize, the source of beauty is love and the source of knowledge is light. I couldn't help but deeply moved by it by the end.
La Sapienza opens in New York on 3/20 at Lincoln Plaza Cinema. National roll out will follow. For more info, please visit Kino Lorber website.
La Sapienza is the latest from Eugène Green, an American born, French filmmaker known for his highly theatrical, Bressonian films. Highly esoteric, the film will undoubtedly turn off many viewers with its intentionally stilted acting where actors often address the audience directly. My first experience with Green film was Le pont des Arts, it concerned with the transcending power of music beyond time and space. I was too, put off by this aesthetic choice at first, but got used to it by the middle and ended up adoring the film.
There are no Altmanesque, overlapping conversations like in real life in the world Green creates. Instead, people talk in their turns, medium shot/reverse medium shot back and forth in dead seriousness, in order to convey the weighty subjects concerning art, and this time, architecture.
The thing is, the emphasis Green puts on dialog is tremendous and the idea he wants to get across is simple but always lofty. Green, from a theater background, saw the direct approach of the theater fit to convey these ideas and have been sticking with it in his filmmaking ever since.
The method, I thought at first pretentious but slowly found less cluttered by the petty human emotions and other 'worldly' things, helps to get to the heart of the matter(s) directly. Ultimately, it's Green's dialog that brings back humanity down to earth and gives his films poignancy.
La Sapienza stars Fabrizio Rongione (Two Days, One Night) as Alexandre Schmidt, a French architect tracing his steps of his idol, a Roman Baroque architect Borromini, starting in his picturesque birthplace Ticino. Alexandre has lost his ways as an architect, mired in corporate city planning which lacks humanity. He is joined by his estranged psychologist wife Aliénor (Christelle Prot) to accompany him at the conference. They grew apart some time even though they love each other.
They run into two young Italian siblings Godfredo (Ludovico Succio) and Lavinia (Arianna Nastro) near the picturesque lake promenade. It's Lavinia's mysterious fainting spell that brings them together - kind-hearted Aliénor insists to be by Lavinia's bedside and suggests Alexandre to take Godfredo, a bright eyed aspiring architect, to accompany him for his research trip, instead of her. Alexandre begrudgingly accept the idea out of politeness.
At this point film becomes two distinctive narratives: one in Italian with Alexandre and Godfredo on the road and mostly in French with Aliénor with Lavinia indoors.The guys establish teacher pupil relationship as they tour various Borromini designed, glorious buildings in different cities. But it turns out Godfredo is the teacher, reminding the old man with his youthful idealism that architecture can be one's passion, that purpose for architecture is to fill the space with light and people.
As it turns out, through dialog, we find out Alexandre and Aliénor grew apart after a loss of a child. Young Lavinia's belief that her illness is some sort of sacrifice starts making sense to Aliénor.
Uncharacteristically, Green himself makes a cameo in his own film for the first time as one of the last descendants of a tribe from Iran who spoke Aramaic. Even though their culture's gone and their language lost, he serves as a foreseer who reads stars and shows that there is hope for Aliénor, because she is loved.
These lofty ideas - rekindling passion for life through the reflection on youth, the transcending power of art, the harmony in architecture and in life, the eternal nature of culture and language, things beyond beauty and knowledge, etc. are all delicately explored and examined through these four characters. Their sincere expression of these thoughts rings true and melts away its artificiality in its presentation soon enough. This is the beauty of La Sapienza and Green films in general. As the older couple realize, the source of beauty is love and the source of knowledge is light. I couldn't help but deeply moved by it by the end.
La Sapienza opens in New York on 3/20 at Lincoln Plaza Cinema. National roll out will follow. For more info, please visit Kino Lorber website.
Cinema of Searching: Lisandro Alonso Interview
Known for his use of non-actors, loose narrative and minimal dialog, Lisandro Alonso's films are at once real and otherworldly. His cinematic explorations are often mysterious and open-ended. He is definitely not into making crowd pleasing blockbusters with big name actors for sure.
Then comes, Jauja, his hallucinatory new film which is garnering a lot of buzz, ever since it won the FIPRESCI prize at Cannes and made splashes at TIFF and NYFF last year, stars Viggo Mortensen (who also serves as a producer and provides music) and is a period piece. And for the first time, his characters speak in full sentences. Does this mean Alonso is going mainstream? Or is this just another branch of his explorations in cinematic realm to convey what's unattainable? You will find answers to these questions in this interview below, or maybe not.
Unlike his enigmatic films, Alonso in person (via skype) is very open and engaging, his answers direct yet elusive.
Jauja opens in New York on 3/20. National roll out will follow. Please visit Cinema Guild website for more info.
JAUJA is a big departure at least in scope from the other 4 features you've made. You have a big Hollywood actor Viggo Mortensen and you also have a co-writer on this for the first time, Argentinian poet Fabian Casas. Then you have Timo Salminen, Aki Kaurismaki's cinematographer as your DP. How did all these come about?
I've been making films since 2001. Every 2-3 years I've made a film. After I made Liverpool in 2008, I wasn't sure I wanted to make films anymore. I went back to my family's farm, I got married and I had a child.
But I was thinking about doing another film. And I didn't want to repeat what I've done film after film, without any professional actors. There were people I always wanted to work with, like Viggo and Timo. Then I became friends with Fabian Casas. After two or three years, he and I came up with a treatment for Jauja. Since I don't write conventional scripts, I had about 20 pages of this thing that we sent to Viggo. He liked the idea and it took off from there. He produced it and did a music for it too. Now he is promoting the film at festivals all over the world.
Did he know your work before?
I think he'd seen and liked Los Muertos. He told me that he saw something honest in that film. I think he might have seen my other films later on. But that's the film he mentioned. All I can say is that he is a brave man to take on something like this.
Thematically, JAUJA is similar to your second film, LOS MUERTOS. Since you've done 5 films now, do you see the same theme repeating in your body of work?
Yes. But it's just a part of the film. It's a simple premise of father or brother looking for a daughter, son, sister or mother... It's an excuse for me to expand on that thin premise to build up something in that environment. It's like that with all my films.
Going back to the searching for the lost daughter theme, you famously asked "Who's John Ford?" when someone mentioned his name when comparing a similar shot in one of your films. I think it was from LIVERPOOL. And here we are again with JAUJA.
You know, for the record that I was joking when I asked 'who is John Ford'.
I know I know. But I can't honestly think of any reference when considering your films. They are very unique and original. That said, do you have any filmmakers who influenced you?
Oh yeah, many. I don't know about John Ford, but I watched a lot of Italian neo-realists films when I was in school, you know? I love Tsai Ming-liang, Werner Herzog, Jim Jarmusch, lately I am very fond of Aki Kaurismaki's films.
Do you still go to cinemas and watch a lot of films?
Not as much. But I am very interested in what directors like Apichatpong Weerasethakul is up to or what Paul Thomas Anderson is up to.
In your films, there are contrasts between nature, the simple way of life and civilization, realistic depiction of everyday life and fantasy, past and the present in cinematic terms. Is the idea of phantom/illusion something you are interested in exploring with the cinematic medium?
That's a very good question. But as opposed to...?
Like painting, photography, music, literature....
Yes. I wasn't really good at those. I tried to be a musician when I was 20, but I wasn't really good at it. I tried acting but I couldn't really act. Not good in front of camera. I think I feel more comfortable behind the camera, hiding.
The thing is that there are so many things that I don't really know. That is the part of reason why I make films. I don't have a clear idea of what I'm searching for.
JAUJA also explores colonialism in Argentina's history with Dinesen, a Danish engineer serving a Argentine Army to clear the road for settlers. Is it any way based on Argentina's history?
I've read some books. Fabian read many books on history obviously. It happened here like it happened anywhere. But I didn't want to pinpoint exactly what time period Jauja is set. I know those moments in history happened in more or less the same way that happens in the film. I mean, like organizing the city just outside the green area just to exterminate Indians as they construct those big holes that you see in the film.
But other than that, we are trying to put all these little facts in the film in favor of making the film bigger, and grow it out some other directions. We did that so we could get at the main theme: how one survives when someone that you really love is gone. How to keep going with your life and everything around you when that happens.
How was shooting in Patagonian desert? What were some of the challenges you've had?
Well it was not easy. I mean we were living in some tents and had to house camera gears and microphones and things like that. But we were strong group of people. There were about 25-30 of us. They were like a family to me. Many of them I've been working with for the last 10-15 years.
Then there were some new guys like Viggo and Timo and a young Danish actress (Villbjørg Marling Agger) with her parents. They were all around talking Danish, English and Spanish drinking some bottles of wine at night and working hard again the next day. There were no roads there so we all just walked to the next locations for, I don't know, half an hour or so.
If you are in that kind of shooting environment, you need people and they need your energy to keep going. We managed very well I think. It wasn't that long of a shoot, about 4 weeks or something like that.
But It can be strange for some. I was not afraid for Viggo, because I knew him a little. He is a tough guy. But for Villbjørk, who played Ingeborg, I didn't know if she would be comfortable. She came from Denmark and she hadn't acted in her life. It was her first film role. She must've thought, 'What the hell am I doing here?' It's a desert and there isn't even a bathroom you know? But she did very well and we had a good, supportive group.
Now you've done relatively a big movie and expanded your cinematic horizon, whatever that means...
(we laugh)
but it seems that for you the possibilities of what you are searching for in cinema is opened up a little more, I am wondering what you will do next?
That's a good question. I think about that every day. But to be honest with you, I'm not in a hurry. I just feel that I had a good experience making this film, meeting all those great people and traveling a little bit, presenting the film.
I have some ideas. And I would like to work with the same people again, in terms of Viggo and Timo plus all the crew members I've been working with and Fabian. But I'd like to go farther and go to another country. I'd love to shoot in the Amazons in Brazil. I have some ideas shooting in some remote place inside the US also, but just like that Denmark scene in Jauja, as a small element. But, yeah, nobody knows. Tomorrow I might change my mind and shoot the entire film in my house.
But I think the nature is very important character for me. I will feel safe if I'm near a tree. As long as I have nature in my films, I'll be fine.
A Charming, Deftly Surrealistic Slacker Comedy
Tu dors Nicole (2014) - Lafleur
After making an appearance at The Directors Fortnight section of Cannes Film festival last year, Tu dors Nicole screened at TIFF and was included in Canada's Top Ten feature films of 2014. It's playing as part of New Directors/New Films series at FSLC on 3/20 and at MoMA on 3/22. Please visit ND/NF website for more info.
Quebec based filmmaker Stéphane Lefleur's wry slacker comedy Tu dors Nicole (You are sleeping, Nicole) stars Julianne Côté in the title role of Nicole, a 20 something young woman with one foot still firmly lodged in childhood and the other slightly hovering over somewhere else.
It's the beginning of summer and her parents are away on vacation. She has a big house and an outdoor pool all to herself. Other than working at a local thrift shop, she spends most of her time either in bed or aimlessly walking/biking around town with her best friend, Véronique (Catherine St-Laurent) who works at an office.
Their tranquil existence is shattered when Nicole's moody older brother and his band mates set up shop in their parents' living room to practice. The band's new drummer, JF (Francis La Haye) is kinda cute in that grungy way (like their 90s style music), but it's pretty obvious that he is more interested in pretty blonde Véronique than her.
Nicole's boredom occasionally breaks with surreal moments in everyday life- the neighbor picking up her dog's doo-doo in the yard with a vacuum cleaner, a frail looking neighborhood boy Martin, whom she used to babysit before he made advances on her, now having a svelte baritone voice, for his voice broke way too early for his age (he's like 8), JF's mysterious First-Aid kit turning out to be a best tomato sandwich making kit, perching a giant stuffed toy over a used funiture and a geyser shooting up in her backyard pool, like in Iceland.
Her life gets a little brighter when she gets her first credit card in the mail. But she doesn't really know what to do with it other than paying for ice cream sundaes at the local outdoor ice cream shop. But on a whim, she buys plane tickets to Iceland for herself and Véronique. They learn Icelandic phrases in preparation - vacuum cleaner in Icelandic is ryksuga, for instance. But what's in Iceland? What would they do there? "Nothing. We do nothing somewhere else," Nicole replies wryly.
Beautifully shot in contrasty black and white by Sara Mishara, Tu dors Nicole is especially gorgeous in exterior night scenes: as an insomniac, Nicole partakes in nighttime baseball game, standing under the park lamp dazed, while the ball drops to the ground near her. She walks around at night in the neighborhood which are only illuminated by street lamps. She hears whale songs in the night winds and hitches a ride, driven by a tired father driving in circles in the hopes of putting his baby in the backseat to sleep.
After getting fired from the thrift shop for stealing donated clothes, she resorts back to babysitting lovesick Martin who tells her he can wait for her. "Take your time, experience the world, then come back to me", he says in his velvety voice. Then they play Cowboys and Indians.
Côté beautifully underplays her character, covering up all the scruples of growing up with a wiry smile. There is glimpse of natural beauty in her when least expected - in front of electric fan or with the Indian war princess make up on.
Tu dors Nicole plays with elasticity of time- everything seems to be in slow-motion when you are young but it accelerates in speed as you grow older. Nicole's somnambulistic life gets a dose of reality check when she runs into her former High School sweetheart who's getting married. And Véronique can't get away from the job to go to Iceland because she has to pay the rent. It's not svelty Martin who's on the verge of adulthood, but it's her and she is not ready to admit that yet.
Lafleur's talent is in his delicate writing aided by droll visual composition. Small things in Nicole's life have a tendency to resurface in physical forms in surrealistic way. I find his deadpan humor and subtle, surrealist touches irresistibly charming.
After making an appearance at The Directors Fortnight section of Cannes Film festival last year, Tu dors Nicole screened at TIFF and was included in Canada's Top Ten feature films of 2014. It's playing as part of New Directors/New Films series at FSLC on 3/20 and at MoMA on 3/22. Please visit ND/NF website for more info.
Quebec based filmmaker Stéphane Lefleur's wry slacker comedy Tu dors Nicole (You are sleeping, Nicole) stars Julianne Côté in the title role of Nicole, a 20 something young woman with one foot still firmly lodged in childhood and the other slightly hovering over somewhere else.
It's the beginning of summer and her parents are away on vacation. She has a big house and an outdoor pool all to herself. Other than working at a local thrift shop, she spends most of her time either in bed or aimlessly walking/biking around town with her best friend, Véronique (Catherine St-Laurent) who works at an office.
Their tranquil existence is shattered when Nicole's moody older brother and his band mates set up shop in their parents' living room to practice. The band's new drummer, JF (Francis La Haye) is kinda cute in that grungy way (like their 90s style music), but it's pretty obvious that he is more interested in pretty blonde Véronique than her.
Nicole's boredom occasionally breaks with surreal moments in everyday life- the neighbor picking up her dog's doo-doo in the yard with a vacuum cleaner, a frail looking neighborhood boy Martin, whom she used to babysit before he made advances on her, now having a svelte baritone voice, for his voice broke way too early for his age (he's like 8), JF's mysterious First-Aid kit turning out to be a best tomato sandwich making kit, perching a giant stuffed toy over a used funiture and a geyser shooting up in her backyard pool, like in Iceland.
Her life gets a little brighter when she gets her first credit card in the mail. But she doesn't really know what to do with it other than paying for ice cream sundaes at the local outdoor ice cream shop. But on a whim, she buys plane tickets to Iceland for herself and Véronique. They learn Icelandic phrases in preparation - vacuum cleaner in Icelandic is ryksuga, for instance. But what's in Iceland? What would they do there? "Nothing. We do nothing somewhere else," Nicole replies wryly.
Beautifully shot in contrasty black and white by Sara Mishara, Tu dors Nicole is especially gorgeous in exterior night scenes: as an insomniac, Nicole partakes in nighttime baseball game, standing under the park lamp dazed, while the ball drops to the ground near her. She walks around at night in the neighborhood which are only illuminated by street lamps. She hears whale songs in the night winds and hitches a ride, driven by a tired father driving in circles in the hopes of putting his baby in the backseat to sleep.
After getting fired from the thrift shop for stealing donated clothes, she resorts back to babysitting lovesick Martin who tells her he can wait for her. "Take your time, experience the world, then come back to me", he says in his velvety voice. Then they play Cowboys and Indians.
Côté beautifully underplays her character, covering up all the scruples of growing up with a wiry smile. There is glimpse of natural beauty in her when least expected - in front of electric fan or with the Indian war princess make up on.
Tu dors Nicole plays with elasticity of time- everything seems to be in slow-motion when you are young but it accelerates in speed as you grow older. Nicole's somnambulistic life gets a dose of reality check when she runs into her former High School sweetheart who's getting married. And Véronique can't get away from the job to go to Iceland because she has to pay the rent. It's not svelty Martin who's on the verge of adulthood, but it's her and she is not ready to admit that yet.
Lafleur's talent is in his delicate writing aided by droll visual composition. Small things in Nicole's life have a tendency to resurface in physical forms in surrealistic way. I find his deadpan humor and subtle, surrealist touches irresistibly charming.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Colossal Loneliness at the End of the World
Liverpool (2008) - Alonso
Alonso's 'lonely man trilogy' (as it was termed before Jauja), concludes with Liverpool. Same thin guideline here - a man named Farrel who works on container ship takes a trip to Ushuaia, a southernmost tip of Patagonia, where he was born. He hasn't seen his mother for years, and he wants to visit.
Just like all of Alonso's lone protagonists exhibit basic human needs - eating, sleeping, sex (or release). The colossal loneliness we feel in these characters in unforgiving environments remind me of Herzog's films. But unlike nature fearing protags in the Barbarian filmmaker's films, Alonso's peeps thrive, like ants or seem very comfortable in their surroundings.
Alonso does something different in Liverpool, there is a daring focus shift when Farrel gets to his destination. His frail dying mother doesn't recognize him and he is left with a semi-retarded sister/daughter. Again, there is a memento mori, a Liverpool keychain he leaves with the retarded girl.
Alonso is trying to find something, through each of his films. It might be something transcendental, a reflection of human nature, frailty, loneliness.... I am just mesmerized by all of it.
Alonso's 'lonely man trilogy' (as it was termed before Jauja), concludes with Liverpool. Same thin guideline here - a man named Farrel who works on container ship takes a trip to Ushuaia, a southernmost tip of Patagonia, where he was born. He hasn't seen his mother for years, and he wants to visit.
Just like all of Alonso's lone protagonists exhibit basic human needs - eating, sleeping, sex (or release). The colossal loneliness we feel in these characters in unforgiving environments remind me of Herzog's films. But unlike nature fearing protags in the Barbarian filmmaker's films, Alonso's peeps thrive, like ants or seem very comfortable in their surroundings.
Alonso does something different in Liverpool, there is a daring focus shift when Farrel gets to his destination. His frail dying mother doesn't recognize him and he is left with a semi-retarded sister/daughter. Again, there is a memento mori, a Liverpool keychain he leaves with the retarded girl.
Alonso is trying to find something, through each of his films. It might be something transcendental, a reflection of human nature, frailty, loneliness.... I am just mesmerized by all of it.
A Thin Line Between Savagery and Civilized
Los Muertos (2003) - Alonso
The film opens with whirling camera in the lush jungl- trees, leaves going in and out of frame. Then it reveals dead bodies of two young men on the ground. Los Muertos's superficial plot concerns Argentino, a good looking, fit, middle aged convict getting released from prison after serving time for killing his two younger brothers. He made arrangement in the pen to find his now grown up daughter. Now released, he needs to take the boat up to where she lives. The film is shoddy on dialog for expository details. And it's shot in the ethno-documentary style - as Argentino prepares for the journey:getting laid, gathering supplies, water, a jug of wine and even some presents, even though he has no idea if his daughter is a grown up or not.
Argentino turns out to be a very able man when it comes to getting his resources in the jungle. His swift decisions and confident manners are at first reassuring but rather scary, as in almost animalistic. Then there is violence. Is he some sort of a psycho killer going upstream to wipe out remnants of his family? Alonso reminds us that there is a bridge between this savage man in the jungle and us, as indicated by a child's toy at the end of the film. That nature and civilization is closer than we think. It's a highly adventurous filmmaking and certainly trumps over fake butcheries in the likes of Cannibal Holocaust. Disturbing and thought provoking, Los Muertos proves Alonso to be one of the most adventurous auteur working today.
The film opens with whirling camera in the lush jungl- trees, leaves going in and out of frame. Then it reveals dead bodies of two young men on the ground. Los Muertos's superficial plot concerns Argentino, a good looking, fit, middle aged convict getting released from prison after serving time for killing his two younger brothers. He made arrangement in the pen to find his now grown up daughter. Now released, he needs to take the boat up to where she lives. The film is shoddy on dialog for expository details. And it's shot in the ethno-documentary style - as Argentino prepares for the journey:getting laid, gathering supplies, water, a jug of wine and even some presents, even though he has no idea if his daughter is a grown up or not.
Argentino turns out to be a very able man when it comes to getting his resources in the jungle. His swift decisions and confident manners are at first reassuring but rather scary, as in almost animalistic. Then there is violence. Is he some sort of a psycho killer going upstream to wipe out remnants of his family? Alonso reminds us that there is a bridge between this savage man in the jungle and us, as indicated by a child's toy at the end of the film. That nature and civilization is closer than we think. It's a highly adventurous filmmaking and certainly trumps over fake butcheries in the likes of Cannibal Holocaust. Disturbing and thought provoking, Los Muertos proves Alonso to be one of the most adventurous auteur working today.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Tender Side of Charlotte Gainsbourg
3 Hearts (2014) - Jacquot
Marc (Benoit Poelvoorde), a shlumpy tax investigator, just missed the train back to Paris. He now has to spend the night in a provincial town whether he likes it or not. By chance, he meets and chats up lovely Sylvie (Charlotte Gainsbourg). The mutual attraction is there. Marc is glad that even though she seems a little anxiety stricken, she's willing to talk to him and show around the town in this sleepless night. Sharing smokes, they end up walking all night talking.
This wasn't like one night passionate tryst of strangers. The tender encounter was some kind of sign from above, as if they were meant to be together (but of course they don't say this out loud, for they are not love stricken teenagers). In the morning, without exchanging their numbers, they promise each other to meet in Paris in one week on Friday, at Eiffel Tower, no that's too corny, at the famous fountain in the park.
The encounter was so special, It becomes a deciding factor for Sylvie not to move to the US with her current boyfriend as she's been hesitant on the matter. But the Friday comes and goes: Marc misses the rendez-vous because he gets delayed by clients and has a mini stroke from stress. Without knowing all these, heartbroken Sylvie leaves for the US with her boyfriend.
Marc is in town again, looking for Sylvie. He ends up helping out distraught Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni), Sylvie's sister, with her business tax problems without knowing that they are sisters. Sophie is a nervous wreck but very warm and attractive. The romance blooms. She introduces him to her mother (Catherine Deneuve) who cautiously observes him. For some reason, mom's a little hesitant about embracing him fully into the family yet.
Eventually Marc finds out that Sylvie and Sophie are very close siblings but whatever the reason, he decides to avoid contacting Sylvie and telling everyone the truth. Marc and Sophie marry. Marc awkwardly avoids Sylvie at the wedding. And she finds out for the first time, that it's him her beloved sister is marrying.
3 years pass by. Marc and Sophie now have an adorable son. For celebrating the 60th birthday of the mother, Sylvie comes home. She and her boyfriend are not doing well and Marc and Sylvie's passion rekindles in secret. Would their secret be discovered?
Benoit Jacquot is revered as 'women's director' for his rapport with many of the France's leading actresses (worked with Anna Karina, Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Isabelle Adjani, Sandrine Kiberlain, Sandrine Bonnaire, and catapulted the carreers of Virginie Ledoyen, Isild Le Besco, Judith Godreche, and Lea Seydoux). He comes back to a small scale, light-hearted, character driven adult romance after success of big period costume drama, Farewell My Queen.
3 Hearts, like all Jacquot films, is a showcase for female roles. But in this film, the star is undoubtedly Gainsbourg. Unlike the roles of her late (think her collaborations with Lars von Trier, where she plays against type), with her frail figure and worrisome face, Sylvie is well within her domain. She gives a nuanced, subtle performance as a woman shaken forever by a chance encounter and who's torn between loyalty and desire.
Not quite a 'what if" story but 3 Hearts is full of regret and melancholy. It's a fluff in the vein of old Hollywood romance but with the help of today's gadgets - skype and cell phones, the film works as a tension filled romantic thriller. You don't really believe two of the most alluring actresses of our time would fall for Poelvoorde's Marc, but hey, it's a man's fantasy and it works for me.
Jacquot has been busy. His new film Diary of a Chambermaid, a remake (of Renoir's classic in 1946, then again 1964 by Buñuel), starring Lea Seydoux just debuted at this year's Berlinale.
3 Hearts opens in New York on 3/13. National roll out will follow. Visit Cohen Media website for more info
Marc (Benoit Poelvoorde), a shlumpy tax investigator, just missed the train back to Paris. He now has to spend the night in a provincial town whether he likes it or not. By chance, he meets and chats up lovely Sylvie (Charlotte Gainsbourg). The mutual attraction is there. Marc is glad that even though she seems a little anxiety stricken, she's willing to talk to him and show around the town in this sleepless night. Sharing smokes, they end up walking all night talking.
This wasn't like one night passionate tryst of strangers. The tender encounter was some kind of sign from above, as if they were meant to be together (but of course they don't say this out loud, for they are not love stricken teenagers). In the morning, without exchanging their numbers, they promise each other to meet in Paris in one week on Friday, at Eiffel Tower, no that's too corny, at the famous fountain in the park.
The encounter was so special, It becomes a deciding factor for Sylvie not to move to the US with her current boyfriend as she's been hesitant on the matter. But the Friday comes and goes: Marc misses the rendez-vous because he gets delayed by clients and has a mini stroke from stress. Without knowing all these, heartbroken Sylvie leaves for the US with her boyfriend.
Marc is in town again, looking for Sylvie. He ends up helping out distraught Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni), Sylvie's sister, with her business tax problems without knowing that they are sisters. Sophie is a nervous wreck but very warm and attractive. The romance blooms. She introduces him to her mother (Catherine Deneuve) who cautiously observes him. For some reason, mom's a little hesitant about embracing him fully into the family yet.
Eventually Marc finds out that Sylvie and Sophie are very close siblings but whatever the reason, he decides to avoid contacting Sylvie and telling everyone the truth. Marc and Sophie marry. Marc awkwardly avoids Sylvie at the wedding. And she finds out for the first time, that it's him her beloved sister is marrying.
3 years pass by. Marc and Sophie now have an adorable son. For celebrating the 60th birthday of the mother, Sylvie comes home. She and her boyfriend are not doing well and Marc and Sylvie's passion rekindles in secret. Would their secret be discovered?
Benoit Jacquot is revered as 'women's director' for his rapport with many of the France's leading actresses (worked with Anna Karina, Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Isabelle Adjani, Sandrine Kiberlain, Sandrine Bonnaire, and catapulted the carreers of Virginie Ledoyen, Isild Le Besco, Judith Godreche, and Lea Seydoux). He comes back to a small scale, light-hearted, character driven adult romance after success of big period costume drama, Farewell My Queen.
3 Hearts, like all Jacquot films, is a showcase for female roles. But in this film, the star is undoubtedly Gainsbourg. Unlike the roles of her late (think her collaborations with Lars von Trier, where she plays against type), with her frail figure and worrisome face, Sylvie is well within her domain. She gives a nuanced, subtle performance as a woman shaken forever by a chance encounter and who's torn between loyalty and desire.
Not quite a 'what if" story but 3 Hearts is full of regret and melancholy. It's a fluff in the vein of old Hollywood romance but with the help of today's gadgets - skype and cell phones, the film works as a tension filled romantic thriller. You don't really believe two of the most alluring actresses of our time would fall for Poelvoorde's Marc, but hey, it's a man's fantasy and it works for me.
Jacquot has been busy. His new film Diary of a Chambermaid, a remake (of Renoir's classic in 1946, then again 1964 by Buñuel), starring Lea Seydoux just debuted at this year's Berlinale.
3 Hearts opens in New York on 3/13. National roll out will follow. Visit Cohen Media website for more info
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Petite-Bourgeoisie
Diary of a Chambermaid (1964) - Buñuel
A pretty Parisienne Celestine (Jeanne Moreau), comes to the county to be a chambermaid for the rich Monteil family, specifically to take care of M. Rabour, old frail father of Mme. Monteil, who is a snobby coldfish. Celestine finds herself the center of attention of sexually frustrated boorish man-child M. Monteil (Michel Piccoli), Rabour, Joseph the man servant, and a nosy retired army captain neighbor.
It being Buñuel film, it's an all out satire where no one is spared - the rich, the army, the religion, our heroine, and above all, the jingoistic whole France.
The old man dies suddenly and a little girl from the neighborhood is found raped and butchered. Celestine, suspecting the killer is Joseph, decides not to go back to Paris and stay with the family until she gets a confession out of him.
Even though Celestine is the only one who mourns the death of the little girl, it is suggested that she might have killed the old man during their foot fetish sessions- he was found dead clutching at the patented leather shoes he made her to wear.
With the use of wide angle lenses, dolly movements and zoom-ins, the film is technically impressive. But the two of the most striking images are static shots - of the dead girl's body obscured by a tree trunk and snails crawling over her lifeless legs and of the face of an old house servant, who's just told by Monteil to be sexually subjugated. Her tearful face says a thousand words.
In a world of Chambermaid, it's always the little ones, the powerless ones suffer and their sufferings go unnoticed and everyone is morally bankrupt swindlers. Celestine would go so far as bedding and marrying Joseph to admit his guilt and even ending up planting a discriminating evidence for the police against him. But being a petite-bourgeoisie, she ends up marrying the petty neighbor and becoming the Mme. of the house, ordering him around in the midst of the rise of national jingoistic fervor everywhere.
It's a great satire and impressively made one. But it's a hard film to like.
A pretty Parisienne Celestine (Jeanne Moreau), comes to the county to be a chambermaid for the rich Monteil family, specifically to take care of M. Rabour, old frail father of Mme. Monteil, who is a snobby coldfish. Celestine finds herself the center of attention of sexually frustrated boorish man-child M. Monteil (Michel Piccoli), Rabour, Joseph the man servant, and a nosy retired army captain neighbor.
It being Buñuel film, it's an all out satire where no one is spared - the rich, the army, the religion, our heroine, and above all, the jingoistic whole France.
The old man dies suddenly and a little girl from the neighborhood is found raped and butchered. Celestine, suspecting the killer is Joseph, decides not to go back to Paris and stay with the family until she gets a confession out of him.
Even though Celestine is the only one who mourns the death of the little girl, it is suggested that she might have killed the old man during their foot fetish sessions- he was found dead clutching at the patented leather shoes he made her to wear.
With the use of wide angle lenses, dolly movements and zoom-ins, the film is technically impressive. But the two of the most striking images are static shots - of the dead girl's body obscured by a tree trunk and snails crawling over her lifeless legs and of the face of an old house servant, who's just told by Monteil to be sexually subjugated. Her tearful face says a thousand words.
In a world of Chambermaid, it's always the little ones, the powerless ones suffer and their sufferings go unnoticed and everyone is morally bankrupt swindlers. Celestine would go so far as bedding and marrying Joseph to admit his guilt and even ending up planting a discriminating evidence for the police against him. But being a petite-bourgeoisie, she ends up marrying the petty neighbor and becoming the Mme. of the house, ordering him around in the midst of the rise of national jingoistic fervor everywhere.
It's a great satire and impressively made one. But it's a hard film to like.
Rendez-vous with French Cinema 2015
Rendez-vous with French Cinema, a co-presentation of Film Society of Lincoln Center and Unifrance Films, has become a de facto film festival for francophiles over the years. A showcase of contemporary French cinema, this year's lineup includes 22 features and four short films making their New York, U.S., or North American premieres.
Celebrating its 20th year, Rendez-vous opens with Benoit Jacquot (Farewell My Queen)'s 3 Hearts, starring Charlotte Gainsbourg, Chiara Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve and closes with Quentin Dupieux (Rubber)'s new film Reality. The returning notable directors include - Jacquot, André Téchiné, Cedric Kahn, Jean-Paul Civeyrac and Christophe Honoré. The ever-diverse lineup includes gritty policiers (The Connection, Next Time I'll Aim for the Heart, SK1), comedies (Gaby Baby Doll, Reality) and several films starring Catherine Deneuve (well, duh!). Shedding a spotlight on women filmmakers, the festival showcases 4 shorts by emerging women directors as well.
Rendez-vous with French Cinema runs March 6 - 15, in three different venues throughout New York- FSLC, BAM Cinematek and IFC Center. Please click on each venue for details.
Being a francophile myself, the festival is always a treasure trove every year. I always find a couple of gems that end up on my year end top 20 films list from Rendez-vous without fail. These are the films I was able to see this year:
METAMORPHOSES
What fun! Honoré's interpretation of Roman poet Ovid's Greek mythic tale of gods and demigods starts out with a modern day hunter running into a flame haired nude transgender person who graces him with pixie dust and turns him into a deer. The hunter becomes the hunted. Filled with young nude bodies (usually full frontal), Metamorphoses tells a high school girl Europa being kidnapped by Jupiter in the form of a hunky, bearded truck driver. It's a sexual, spritual awakening for Europa, as she mingles with Jupiter, Bacchus and Orpheus. Story within a story within a story plays out, some funny, some dark but all enjoyable, with emphasis on sexual ambiguity and transformation in human beings. The film is like a dream of a horny teenager who has fallen asleep in literature class.
A couple of years back, I remember Honoré telling me when I interviewed him for his film Beloved, that he is not a type of director who'd want to make nice things to be remembered by his offspring. He'd rather make things his son would be ashamed of. Without any big name actors, he charges on bravely, with lots of raunchy images, tackling on today's rigid, conservative society with an ancient literature and reminds us that things were much more transgressive and transforming in 1 century B.C..
Metamorphoses is also a visual feast, not only because of all the young nudes, but also the under-water scene where Orpheus attempts to retrieve Eurydice from the underworld which is breathtakingly gorgeous. There are many idyllic nature settings, most of them near the water which is the running theme of the film.
Death of skateboarding Narcissus scene is an epitome/origin of many Honoré's love sick characters' demises, you find out. Playful, dirty, edgy and wondrous in its micro-economic way, Metamorphoses works as it is intended to- a beautiful, dreamy poetry in accordance with the spirit of French New Wave. One of my favorites from the festival.
3 HEARTS **Opening Night Film
Marc (Benoit Poelvoorde), a shlumpy tax investigator, just missed the train back to Paris. He meets and chats up lovely Sylvie (Charlotte Gainsbourg) who seems a little troubled. They walk all night talking. In the morning, they promise each other, without exchanging the numbers, to meet in Paris in one week on Friday, near a famous fountain near the park. The encounter was so special, Sylvie decides not to move to the US with her current boyfriend as she's been planning. But the Friday comes and goes. Marc misses the rendez-vous because he gets delayed by clients and has a mini stroke from his stressful job. Heartbroken Sylvie leaves for the US with her boyfriend.
Marc is in town again, looking for Sylvie. He ends up helping out distraught Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni), Sylvie's sister, with her business tax problems. The romance blooms. Eventually Marc finds out that they are very close siblings and whatever reason, he decides to avoid contacting Sylvie. Marc and Sophie marry. Marc and Sylvie avoid each other at the wedding. 3 years passes. The couple has an adorable son now. For the 60th birthday of the mother (Catherine Deneuve) of the sisters, Sylvie comes home. She and her boyfriend is not doing well and Marc and Sylvie's passion rekindles.
Not quite 'what if" story but 3 Hearts is full of regret and melancholy. It's a fluff in the vein of old Hollywood but with the help of todays gadgets - skype and cell phones, it works as a tension filled love triangle. You don't really believe two of the most alluring actresses of our time would fall for Poelvoorde's Marc, but whatever. It's a fun movie.
Director Benoit Jacquot has been busy. His new film Diary of a Chambermaid, a remake (of Renoir's classic in 1946, then again 1964 by Buñuel), starring Lea Seydoux just debuted at this year's Berlinale.
MAY ALLAH BLESS FRANCE
In light of Charlie Hebdo massacre, Congolese born French rap artist Abd Al Malik adapts his own autobiographical book Qu'Allah bénisse la France and shows yet another side of Muslims in France. Charismatic, clear eyed Marc Zinga portrays the rapper who was raised in a housing project of Neuhof, a surburb of Strasbourg. In the film, Al Malik (Zinga), whose given name was Régis before he converted to Sufi Islam, is a gifted student in Literature and destined to become a philosopher/poet. But his real passion is rap music and wants to overcome his underprivileged background and become a big star. With some of his friends, he practices and writes songs 2-3 hours at a time at a local community center where they have limited access to the gear and space. They pickpocket tourists to raise the dough but avoids dealing hard drugs unlike many of his friends and neighbors who are now incarcerated or dead.
It's neighbor's daughter Nawel (Sabrina Ouazani) who introduces him to Sufism, the spiritual side of Islam, and teaches him not to be a foreigner in their own country. Love blooms between them.
In May Allah Bless France, being Muslim is considered as an added responsibility that young people put on themselves. This means no drinking, no drugs, no disrespect towards women. The film's quite different from what you expect from the usual gansta movies. Al Malik restrains himself (to a fault) from going bombastic in style. It's shot in monochrome but the similarity with Mathieu Kasovitz's breakthrough 1995 urban drama La Haine ends there. The film almost too sanitized. The act of drive by shooting is never shown, Nawel and Régis never even kiss or show their affection out in the open until their eventual marriage. Sure some bad things happen to his friends and family members but everything is way too clean to be even a little bit affecting. Music is good though, especially Nina Simone sampled Gibraltar and Soldat de Plomb. Mireille Perrier (Chocolat, Boy Meets Girl) shows up as his school mentor, reminding him the past choice doesn't matter, it's the future ones that counts.
GABY BABY DOLL
Gaby (Lolita Chammah) is told by her doctor that she needs to learn how to be independent/self-sufficient. That she needs to let her neurosis go and get some much needed rest. So she arrives in a picaresque rural village with a group of friends. It's supposed to be a rustic vacation at a big house that belongs to her doctor. The trouble begins after her friends leave and her boyfriend detects that she doesn't really love him. So he leaves too, declaring that he will come back after the leaves on the tree in the front yard falls. Now left all alone by herself, she needs to find somebody to keep her company. She resort to a group of men in a local tavern every night to walk her home and stay the night, one by one. It's not like she wants to sleep with them, but she can't bear the thought of being alone. The words go around and she is banned from entering the pub ever again.
Then there is Nicolas (Benjamin Biolay), a bearded hermit who lives in an impossibly tiny shack with a friendly dog, outside of an abandoned castle. He is supposed to be the caretaker of the place. He has his set routine - long walks every morning and evening, collecting his thoughts, reflecting on life. He is a total opposite of Gaby. And she clings to him like a leech for company. Soon they are off to walk together and slowly, he teaches her to enjoy the solitude, just a little bit.
Sophie Letourneur's idiosyncratic romantic comedy rides heavily on the charm of baby-faced Chammah and she totally delivers. I get the Greta Gerwig comparisons but Gaby Baby Doll's success also has got to do with Letourneur's writing- nonchalant characters, unusual sense of humor.
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST
Director Bertrand Bonello (House of Tolerance, Saint Laurent) plays Bertrand, a film director who's trying to find one inspirational piece of art for his upcoming film about monstrosity. His supportive producer (Valerie Dreville) introduces him an art historian friend Célia (played alternately by Jeanne Balivar and Geraldine Pailhas) to help out finding an inspiration in various art museum trips. They see the paintings of Bacon, Caravaggio, Baltus, etc. Without any written dialog and clear direction, Bertrand is having a hard time explaining the project to his actors (Pascale Greggory, Sigrid Bouaziz). He also has a lot on his mind - his retrospective is coming up, a young, inarticulate interviewer keeps bothering him to meet up, Bertrand's stage actress/singer wife Barbe (Joanna Preiss of Siberie) is always on the road, mysterious Célia keeps changing her appearances while flirting with him. Then there is large red welts on his back that keeps getting bigger. Is it a sign of psychosomatic symptom or is it some kind of metaphor?
Director Antoine Barraud is not in a hurry to rush us out of the museums. He takes time for us to look at each of the painting Bertrand and Célia are looking at. And we observe them while they observe art in a quiet setting.
Portrait of the Artist is filled with beautifully photographed images and attractive actors (including Bonello, who wears sad, intelligent face very comfortably and has a strong screen presence). The film is not too concerned about one's artistic process or the end game. There is a pervading comfortable nonchalance: not silly but sophisticated and arresting. Even though it's not a puzzle piece, there are hints throughout the film that all the people surrounding Bertrand are reflections of himself - silly, shy, seductive, strange... that these are the overactive imagination of an artist. If a good cinema is nothing but the art of seduction, Portrait of the Artist would be it.
MY FRIEND VICTORIA
Jean-Paul Civeyrac's adapts Doris Lessing's novella, Victoria and the Staveneys. Narrated by her lifelong friend Fanny, the film chronicles passive life of a black girl.
Victoria, a girl growing up in the project, gets to experience how the wealthy white family (the Savinets) lives for one night when she was 8. The night and the handsome and gentle older son Edouard of the family make a lasting impression on her life. Later, she has a fling with the younger Savinet, Thomas, gets pregnant and decides to keep the child without telling him. She takes various low paying jobs because of lack of education, falls in love, raises two children by herself. Now her mixed daughter Marie is 7. Because Victoria doesn't want her daughter to end up like herself, she decides to contact the Savinets to reveal the truth. The whole Savinets are ecstatic except for Edouard, who asks for paternity test but then immediately regrets his decision. Being ultra liberal, the Savinets are crazy about this 'caramel colored girl' and pours all their affection to her. They even debate about if affection need to be shared by Victoria's other child, Charlie, by another father.
I loved Civeyrac's Through the Forest, part love story, part super-natual thriller, part musical. His light touch and technical daring do (Forest is consisted of 9 uncut, long shots). Here, he skillfully drives the film without making it all a case study for social observation. His filmmaking is fluid and light. Victoria is a beautiful character, trying to do right by her family and herself. Guslagie Malanga is terrific as the older Victoria, so as the narrator Fanny, played by Nadia Moussa and so as the Savinets, especially the warm, artistic dad and mom (Pascal Greggory and Catherine Mouchet).
It's interesting to see a film that shows as much about how well-to-do white liberals deal with minorities as about minorities themselves. It's an interesting window to see the race relations in post-Sarkosy, pre-Charlie Hebdo era France.
IN THE NAME OF MY DAUGHTER
André Téchiné, the French master of subtle psychological dramas, tackles real life intrigue that took place in the French Riviera in the 70s. It is the esteemed director and Catherine Deneuve's 7th collaboration to date.
Deneuve plays Renée, a widow and owner of the last remaining casino that is not taken over by mafia. She is aided by her loyal lawyer Maurice (Guillaume Canet, respresenting two films at this year's Rendez-vous) to tread the troubling times. It's Maurice's cunning political maneuvering that makes Renée to take total control over the casino. But her daughter Agnes (Adèle Haenel, Water Lilies and this year's Cesar Award winner for Best Actress for Love at First Fight) arrives, expecting to cash in on her inheritance and set up a little business for herself. Athletic, sultry Agnes slowly but surely falls for studious Maurice who is married and also has a string of mistresses.
After getting rejected by Renée for advancement, Maurice, along with Agnes arranges for ousting of Renée from the leadership of the casino. Lovesick Agnes becomes completely dependent on him. But he tells her that he can never reciprocate the love she has for him. She becomes suicidal and one day disappears without a trace. Soon after, Maurice transfers all of Agnes's money to his account. Twenty years later, Maurice is flown back to France from South America where he lives now, to stand for the trial, accused of the murder and disappearance of Agnes, brought on by diligent work of Renée.
Building suspense or clear resolution is not what Téchiné's after. Despite its terrible American title (its original title is L'homme qu'on aimait trop which means 'The Man Who Loved Too Much' which makes much more sense in the film's context), the film is yet another great example of Téchiné's astute examination of unpredictability/duplicity in human nature that he is known for. All three principal actors are terrific against beautiful French Riviera setting, shot energetically by a veteran cinematographer Julien Hirsch (3 Hearts, Bird People, Godard's In Praise of Love and Notre Musique as well as Téchiné's Unforgivable and The Girl on the Train), the film is another strong outing from Téchiné.
Celebrating its 20th year, Rendez-vous opens with Benoit Jacquot (Farewell My Queen)'s 3 Hearts, starring Charlotte Gainsbourg, Chiara Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve and closes with Quentin Dupieux (Rubber)'s new film Reality. The returning notable directors include - Jacquot, André Téchiné, Cedric Kahn, Jean-Paul Civeyrac and Christophe Honoré. The ever-diverse lineup includes gritty policiers (The Connection, Next Time I'll Aim for the Heart, SK1), comedies (Gaby Baby Doll, Reality) and several films starring Catherine Deneuve (well, duh!). Shedding a spotlight on women filmmakers, the festival showcases 4 shorts by emerging women directors as well.
Rendez-vous with French Cinema runs March 6 - 15, in three different venues throughout New York- FSLC, BAM Cinematek and IFC Center. Please click on each venue for details.
Being a francophile myself, the festival is always a treasure trove every year. I always find a couple of gems that end up on my year end top 20 films list from Rendez-vous without fail. These are the films I was able to see this year:
METAMORPHOSES
What fun! Honoré's interpretation of Roman poet Ovid's Greek mythic tale of gods and demigods starts out with a modern day hunter running into a flame haired nude transgender person who graces him with pixie dust and turns him into a deer. The hunter becomes the hunted. Filled with young nude bodies (usually full frontal), Metamorphoses tells a high school girl Europa being kidnapped by Jupiter in the form of a hunky, bearded truck driver. It's a sexual, spritual awakening for Europa, as she mingles with Jupiter, Bacchus and Orpheus. Story within a story within a story plays out, some funny, some dark but all enjoyable, with emphasis on sexual ambiguity and transformation in human beings. The film is like a dream of a horny teenager who has fallen asleep in literature class.
A couple of years back, I remember Honoré telling me when I interviewed him for his film Beloved, that he is not a type of director who'd want to make nice things to be remembered by his offspring. He'd rather make things his son would be ashamed of. Without any big name actors, he charges on bravely, with lots of raunchy images, tackling on today's rigid, conservative society with an ancient literature and reminds us that things were much more transgressive and transforming in 1 century B.C..
Metamorphoses is also a visual feast, not only because of all the young nudes, but also the under-water scene where Orpheus attempts to retrieve Eurydice from the underworld which is breathtakingly gorgeous. There are many idyllic nature settings, most of them near the water which is the running theme of the film.
Death of skateboarding Narcissus scene is an epitome/origin of many Honoré's love sick characters' demises, you find out. Playful, dirty, edgy and wondrous in its micro-economic way, Metamorphoses works as it is intended to- a beautiful, dreamy poetry in accordance with the spirit of French New Wave. One of my favorites from the festival.
3 HEARTS **Opening Night Film
Marc (Benoit Poelvoorde), a shlumpy tax investigator, just missed the train back to Paris. He meets and chats up lovely Sylvie (Charlotte Gainsbourg) who seems a little troubled. They walk all night talking. In the morning, they promise each other, without exchanging the numbers, to meet in Paris in one week on Friday, near a famous fountain near the park. The encounter was so special, Sylvie decides not to move to the US with her current boyfriend as she's been planning. But the Friday comes and goes. Marc misses the rendez-vous because he gets delayed by clients and has a mini stroke from his stressful job. Heartbroken Sylvie leaves for the US with her boyfriend.
Marc is in town again, looking for Sylvie. He ends up helping out distraught Sophie (Chiara Mastroianni), Sylvie's sister, with her business tax problems. The romance blooms. Eventually Marc finds out that they are very close siblings and whatever reason, he decides to avoid contacting Sylvie. Marc and Sophie marry. Marc and Sylvie avoid each other at the wedding. 3 years passes. The couple has an adorable son now. For the 60th birthday of the mother (Catherine Deneuve) of the sisters, Sylvie comes home. She and her boyfriend is not doing well and Marc and Sylvie's passion rekindles.
Not quite 'what if" story but 3 Hearts is full of regret and melancholy. It's a fluff in the vein of old Hollywood but with the help of todays gadgets - skype and cell phones, it works as a tension filled love triangle. You don't really believe two of the most alluring actresses of our time would fall for Poelvoorde's Marc, but whatever. It's a fun movie.
Director Benoit Jacquot has been busy. His new film Diary of a Chambermaid, a remake (of Renoir's classic in 1946, then again 1964 by Buñuel), starring Lea Seydoux just debuted at this year's Berlinale.
MAY ALLAH BLESS FRANCE
In light of Charlie Hebdo massacre, Congolese born French rap artist Abd Al Malik adapts his own autobiographical book Qu'Allah bénisse la France and shows yet another side of Muslims in France. Charismatic, clear eyed Marc Zinga portrays the rapper who was raised in a housing project of Neuhof, a surburb of Strasbourg. In the film, Al Malik (Zinga), whose given name was Régis before he converted to Sufi Islam, is a gifted student in Literature and destined to become a philosopher/poet. But his real passion is rap music and wants to overcome his underprivileged background and become a big star. With some of his friends, he practices and writes songs 2-3 hours at a time at a local community center where they have limited access to the gear and space. They pickpocket tourists to raise the dough but avoids dealing hard drugs unlike many of his friends and neighbors who are now incarcerated or dead.
It's neighbor's daughter Nawel (Sabrina Ouazani) who introduces him to Sufism, the spiritual side of Islam, and teaches him not to be a foreigner in their own country. Love blooms between them.
In May Allah Bless France, being Muslim is considered as an added responsibility that young people put on themselves. This means no drinking, no drugs, no disrespect towards women. The film's quite different from what you expect from the usual gansta movies. Al Malik restrains himself (to a fault) from going bombastic in style. It's shot in monochrome but the similarity with Mathieu Kasovitz's breakthrough 1995 urban drama La Haine ends there. The film almost too sanitized. The act of drive by shooting is never shown, Nawel and Régis never even kiss or show their affection out in the open until their eventual marriage. Sure some bad things happen to his friends and family members but everything is way too clean to be even a little bit affecting. Music is good though, especially Nina Simone sampled Gibraltar and Soldat de Plomb. Mireille Perrier (Chocolat, Boy Meets Girl) shows up as his school mentor, reminding him the past choice doesn't matter, it's the future ones that counts.
GABY BABY DOLL
Gaby (Lolita Chammah) is told by her doctor that she needs to learn how to be independent/self-sufficient. That she needs to let her neurosis go and get some much needed rest. So she arrives in a picaresque rural village with a group of friends. It's supposed to be a rustic vacation at a big house that belongs to her doctor. The trouble begins after her friends leave and her boyfriend detects that she doesn't really love him. So he leaves too, declaring that he will come back after the leaves on the tree in the front yard falls. Now left all alone by herself, she needs to find somebody to keep her company. She resort to a group of men in a local tavern every night to walk her home and stay the night, one by one. It's not like she wants to sleep with them, but she can't bear the thought of being alone. The words go around and she is banned from entering the pub ever again.
Then there is Nicolas (Benjamin Biolay), a bearded hermit who lives in an impossibly tiny shack with a friendly dog, outside of an abandoned castle. He is supposed to be the caretaker of the place. He has his set routine - long walks every morning and evening, collecting his thoughts, reflecting on life. He is a total opposite of Gaby. And she clings to him like a leech for company. Soon they are off to walk together and slowly, he teaches her to enjoy the solitude, just a little bit.
Sophie Letourneur's idiosyncratic romantic comedy rides heavily on the charm of baby-faced Chammah and she totally delivers. I get the Greta Gerwig comparisons but Gaby Baby Doll's success also has got to do with Letourneur's writing- nonchalant characters, unusual sense of humor.
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST
Director Bertrand Bonello (House of Tolerance, Saint Laurent) plays Bertrand, a film director who's trying to find one inspirational piece of art for his upcoming film about monstrosity. His supportive producer (Valerie Dreville) introduces him an art historian friend Célia (played alternately by Jeanne Balivar and Geraldine Pailhas) to help out finding an inspiration in various art museum trips. They see the paintings of Bacon, Caravaggio, Baltus, etc. Without any written dialog and clear direction, Bertrand is having a hard time explaining the project to his actors (Pascale Greggory, Sigrid Bouaziz). He also has a lot on his mind - his retrospective is coming up, a young, inarticulate interviewer keeps bothering him to meet up, Bertrand's stage actress/singer wife Barbe (Joanna Preiss of Siberie) is always on the road, mysterious Célia keeps changing her appearances while flirting with him. Then there is large red welts on his back that keeps getting bigger. Is it a sign of psychosomatic symptom or is it some kind of metaphor?
Director Antoine Barraud is not in a hurry to rush us out of the museums. He takes time for us to look at each of the painting Bertrand and Célia are looking at. And we observe them while they observe art in a quiet setting.
Portrait of the Artist is filled with beautifully photographed images and attractive actors (including Bonello, who wears sad, intelligent face very comfortably and has a strong screen presence). The film is not too concerned about one's artistic process or the end game. There is a pervading comfortable nonchalance: not silly but sophisticated and arresting. Even though it's not a puzzle piece, there are hints throughout the film that all the people surrounding Bertrand are reflections of himself - silly, shy, seductive, strange... that these are the overactive imagination of an artist. If a good cinema is nothing but the art of seduction, Portrait of the Artist would be it.
MY FRIEND VICTORIA
Jean-Paul Civeyrac's adapts Doris Lessing's novella, Victoria and the Staveneys. Narrated by her lifelong friend Fanny, the film chronicles passive life of a black girl.
Victoria, a girl growing up in the project, gets to experience how the wealthy white family (the Savinets) lives for one night when she was 8. The night and the handsome and gentle older son Edouard of the family make a lasting impression on her life. Later, she has a fling with the younger Savinet, Thomas, gets pregnant and decides to keep the child without telling him. She takes various low paying jobs because of lack of education, falls in love, raises two children by herself. Now her mixed daughter Marie is 7. Because Victoria doesn't want her daughter to end up like herself, she decides to contact the Savinets to reveal the truth. The whole Savinets are ecstatic except for Edouard, who asks for paternity test but then immediately regrets his decision. Being ultra liberal, the Savinets are crazy about this 'caramel colored girl' and pours all their affection to her. They even debate about if affection need to be shared by Victoria's other child, Charlie, by another father.
I loved Civeyrac's Through the Forest, part love story, part super-natual thriller, part musical. His light touch and technical daring do (Forest is consisted of 9 uncut, long shots). Here, he skillfully drives the film without making it all a case study for social observation. His filmmaking is fluid and light. Victoria is a beautiful character, trying to do right by her family and herself. Guslagie Malanga is terrific as the older Victoria, so as the narrator Fanny, played by Nadia Moussa and so as the Savinets, especially the warm, artistic dad and mom (Pascal Greggory and Catherine Mouchet).
It's interesting to see a film that shows as much about how well-to-do white liberals deal with minorities as about minorities themselves. It's an interesting window to see the race relations in post-Sarkosy, pre-Charlie Hebdo era France.
IN THE NAME OF MY DAUGHTER
André Téchiné, the French master of subtle psychological dramas, tackles real life intrigue that took place in the French Riviera in the 70s. It is the esteemed director and Catherine Deneuve's 7th collaboration to date.
Deneuve plays Renée, a widow and owner of the last remaining casino that is not taken over by mafia. She is aided by her loyal lawyer Maurice (Guillaume Canet, respresenting two films at this year's Rendez-vous) to tread the troubling times. It's Maurice's cunning political maneuvering that makes Renée to take total control over the casino. But her daughter Agnes (Adèle Haenel, Water Lilies and this year's Cesar Award winner for Best Actress for Love at First Fight) arrives, expecting to cash in on her inheritance and set up a little business for herself. Athletic, sultry Agnes slowly but surely falls for studious Maurice who is married and also has a string of mistresses.
After getting rejected by Renée for advancement, Maurice, along with Agnes arranges for ousting of Renée from the leadership of the casino. Lovesick Agnes becomes completely dependent on him. But he tells her that he can never reciprocate the love she has for him. She becomes suicidal and one day disappears without a trace. Soon after, Maurice transfers all of Agnes's money to his account. Twenty years later, Maurice is flown back to France from South America where he lives now, to stand for the trial, accused of the murder and disappearance of Agnes, brought on by diligent work of Renée.
Building suspense or clear resolution is not what Téchiné's after. Despite its terrible American title (its original title is L'homme qu'on aimait trop which means 'The Man Who Loved Too Much' which makes much more sense in the film's context), the film is yet another great example of Téchiné's astute examination of unpredictability/duplicity in human nature that he is known for. All three principal actors are terrific against beautiful French Riviera setting, shot energetically by a veteran cinematographer Julien Hirsch (3 Hearts, Bird People, Godard's In Praise of Love and Notre Musique as well as Téchiné's Unforgivable and The Girl on the Train), the film is another strong outing from Téchiné.
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