This odd film is one of the MUBI selections from the My French Film Festival. It’s odd because on the surface it appears to be a typical polar/crime thriller but it doesn’t ‘feel’ like a genre film. It may be because it is an adaptation of an Israeli novel by Dror Mishani and the adaptation is directed by Erick Zonca as only the third film he has completed since his international arthouse hit The Dreamlife of Angels (La vie rêvée des anges, 1998). The lead player of that film, Élodie Bouchez, is the fourth lead in this new film – in a secondary role behind three very established French stars.
The most immediately recognisable of the three stars is Sandrine Kiberlain as Solange, a depressed mother in her late 40s with a young teenage daughter who has learning difficulties. Her older child, Dany is a high school student who has gone missing and her husband, a merchant seaman, is away on a trip. When the boy’s disappearance is reported to the police it becomes a case for Commander Visconti played against type by an almost unrecognisable Vincent Cassel and seemingly lurking around every corner is a neighbour and Dany’s sometime tutor Yann Belaille played by Roman Duris – also looking very different. What follows is a drama featuring these three powerful actors.
The settings of the film are also unusual. Visconti is based in a police station in the city but the boy’s family live in an apartment block by a wood, presumably in an outer suburb and at times this felt like the setting for a Nordic Noir. If your recent experience of French policing on TV is the wonderful serial Engrenages (Spiral) you may also be a little baffled by the police operations this film. How does Visconti keep his job? This narrative is only marginally interested in police procedures. Visconti is an alcoholic living alone and battling with his son who appears to be operating a semi-pro drugs business from his high school. The Commander is dishevelled with greasy unruly hair and a thick beard. His appearance and demeanour suggest that he is permanently suffering from hangovers and his interrogation of witnesses in their homes often includes a request for whisky. Part way through the narrative he is taken off the case and replaced by a colleague with a more conventional approach. But this doesn’t appear to prevent Visconti carrying on his investigation.
Visconti becomes interested, perhaps too interested, in the creepy neighbour/teacher. Romain Duris is similarly disguised by a thick bushy beard (though this one is carefully groomed) and large spectacles. What does he know? What is he up to now? Most of the time this narrative is a mystery. Dany can’t be found. Is he still alive? In one sense Zonca seems to be teasing us with possible red herrings but perhaps he is most interested in the three central characters, each of whom has secrets. The case of Dany’s disappearance is eventually solved – or at least there is a confession, but not a clear resolution that ties up all the loose ends.
I’m not sure what to make of this film. As someone very interested in this kind of procedural/rogue cop etc. crime fiction, I found it very interesting, especially because of the three leads. But I do wonder whether a general audience, either of genre cinema or arthouse cinema, will enjoy the film.
This is a very odd film for a British viewer to watch. It’s showing as part of ‘My French Film Festival‘ and it’s exactly the kind of film that I would have thought is unlikely to play in UK cinemas – yet the festival is sponsored by the film export agency Unifrance. The problem for British viewers is that this is a faux documentary about the comeback tour of a popular French singer and if there is one thing that doesn’t easily cross the Channel it is chanson. Wikipedia carries a useful definition of chanson, suggesting that:
Chanson can be distinguished from the rest of French ‘pop’ music by following the rhythms of French language, rather than those of English, and a higher standard for lyrics.
I’m not sure about the ‘higher standard’ but I can certainly see that chanson is all about the musicality of the French language and the tradition of poetry. Some of the greats of chanson have gained a profile outside the Francophone world including Charles Aznavour and Jacques Brel and earlier Charles Trenet, but mainly it is a closed world to Anglo ears. So too is French TV and Radio which feature in the film as part of the promotion for the tour.
The subject of the fictional documentary is ‘Guy Jamet’ who was popular from the 1960s to 1990s and is now touring a new album of ‘re-orchestrated’ hits in his 70s. The filmmaker is simply known as ‘Gauthier’ (played by Tom Dingler whose father was a genuine popular singer). He’s a young man we hear behind the camera, but don’t see until the final scene. The documentary is a ruse by Gauthier to find out what kind of person Guy Jamet really is. Gauthier’s mother has told him that Jamet is his father and that she met the singer on one of his tours. Gauthier’s plan is to convince Guy to accept having a camera trailing him throughout his tour and to talk face to face with Gauthier at his home and elsewhere. It’s a big ask.
When I started watching the film I hadn’t read too much about the production and I hadn’t realised that the film’s writer-director Alex Lutz was also playing Guy (and presumably singing) under make-up to age him 30 plus years. The make-up is very impressive but there is something odd about his performance. I’m around 70+ year-olds a lot these days and he is ‘acting’ being 70+ with physical mannerisms that felt a little strange. To do all this Lutz must have some ego but I realise now that he is a touring comic actor familiar with the kinds of venues Guy is appearing in and has performed in many French comedy films. This ‘mockumentary’ is meant to be a comedy and as Deborah Young of the Hollywood Reporter points out, there are many in-jokes that non-French audiences are unlikely to get.
I won’t spoil the narrative as such. Instead I’ll just argue that Guy is presented warts and all. Sometimes he is short with people and quite rude and at other time courteous and charming. He waxes philosophical and he’s sometimes pretentious but at other times he’s perceptive about the music business and sharply analytical. We meet his current and past lovers and gauzy flashbacks show us his performances with different partners thirty or forty years ago. In the case of ‘Anne-Marie’ we see the same character played by Dani in the present and Élodie Bouchez in the past. I’m not really a fan of the mockumentary style and I probably took the film too seriously. On that score I feel like I did learn something about French popular music and I enjoyed some of the performances. Most of the material Guy performs was written for the film by Vincent Blanchard and Romain Greffe.
Guy seems to have been well-received in France and has been nominated for several awards. If you want to view it, it is currently on Amazon Prime as well as via the Festival. Here is an American trailer, so it is getting a release there (as well as in Quebec?).
Since the start of 2019 just two French films have been on release in the UK but both have struggled to find cinemas in West Yorkshire. It’s good that the Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds has managed to screen Un amour impossible three times this week. La villa (The House By the Sea) has failed to appear in West Yorkshire at all as far as I’m aware. Foreign language films have been almost completely absent from our screens while the endless array of Anglo-American ‘awards’ films take over.
In these sad circumstances I’m pleased to report that I enjoyed Un amour impossible very much. I have a couple of quibbles, but I was very taken with the performance of the Belgian actor Virginie Efira in the lead role as Rachel Steiner in Catherine Corsini’s engaging melodrama. (Catherine Corsini’s best-known films in the UK are Summertime (2015) and Partir (2009).) An Impossible Love is a long film (135 mins) but I was entertained throughout. In fact, my main quibble was that the last section of the film seemed compressed.
Rachel Steiner is a young woman in the late 1950s who we first meet at a dance in Châteauroux in the Loire. A young woman is singing Paul Anka’s ‘Diana’. There is a narrator who we will soon realise is Rachel’s yet unborn daughter. Rachel left school at 17 and became a typist, eventually moving into a government office where she is still unmarried at 25 – despite being very attractive and personable. But then she meets Philippe, a young man working as a translator. He’s from a wealthy family and highly cultured. She is smitten and a physical relationship begins. But when Philippe’s translator’s job ends he returns to Paris and Rachel discovers she is pregnant. He has told her he will never marry and she accepts this, bringing up her daughter herself with her mother and sister in support. Occasionally, Philippe returns and Rachel begins to believe that he should at least ‘recognise’ his daughter so that she doesn’t have ‘father unknown’ on her birth certificate. I won’t spoil any more of the narrative which then extends over nearly 50 years and which in the final section includes one major shocking revelation.
The narrative is based on a 2015 novel by Christine Angot which in turn is based on a true family story. The Belgian actor Virginie Efira, who was 40 when the film was shot, is required to age from 25 to her 60s (or 70s – I wasn’t quite sure when the final scenes are meant to be set). Her performance is extraordinary. I believed she was 25 – and 65. It isn’t just a matter of the make-up which took six to seven hours to apply each day for many scenes but also Efira’s facial and bodily movements, her speaking voice and overall physicality. Catherine Corsini thought carefully about whether to use more than one actor for the role and I think she chose well.
The film’s title is ambiguous since there are several interpretations of both ‘impossible’ and ‘love’ in the narrative. In the Press Notes, Catherine Corsini suggests that there are three main sections of the film: the romance between Rachel and Philippe, the solitude of Rachel bringing up her child and then the section in which Philippe ‘recognises’ Chantal leading to the ‘reveal’. I think that really there are four sections with the last part being split into two. As Rachel gets older there are more significant jumps ahead in time and I found that this happened too quickly. Over these sections the narrative draws on generic ideas about romance, then melodrama and finally moves towards a form of thriller or mystery. (During the romance the couple go to see Jeanne Moreau in Louis Malle’s A Lift to the Scaffold (1958) – an odd choice for a date night?) Throughout these changes we watch the impact of events on Rachel and how she has the strength to carry on.
Philippe is an obnoxious character but it is possible to see why Rachel falls for him. Much of the time he is charming and when he utters an anti-semitic comment or expresses his snobbery and class hatred it comes as a real shock – I found myself almost crying out in anger. In a way Philippe’s behaviour is also a commentary on social history in France. There is a mention of the war in Algeria in the 1950s, some remarks about German women after the war who have lost their men, Rachel’s father left France for Alexandria to escape persecution – all references to attitudes and personal histories that underpin everyday relationships from the 1950s to the present.
If An Impossible Love hasn’t come your way in the UK, you can also catch it on the streaming service of its UK distributor Curzon. I recommend it for the performances, Virginie Efira in particular, Catherine Corsini’s direction, Jeanne Lapoirie’s ‘Scope cinematography, Virginie Montel’s costumes – and the entire hair and make-up team.
There is an unwritten rule of European film distribution that comedies struggle to overcome language barriers, so in the UK we only rarely see the sometimes very popular local comedy hits from France, Germany, Italy or Spain. The Online French Film Festival offers a chance to see a range of French films and this year MUBI have streamed a couple of the films on offer. Comme des garçons is, in one sense, very familiar as a sports comedy but one with a serious purpose – always a tricky mix and to complicate things further it is based on real events. The different factors involved in its conception introduce different genre elements and the main task for director Julien Hallard is to keep the different elements working together.
It’s 1969 in Reims, the centre of Champagne, and in an engaging opening sequence we see that all the staff of the local newspaper are glued to transistor radios listening to the unfolding tragedy of their local football team’s relegation to Division 2. Reims was at this point one of the best known and historically successful teams in France. The paper’s young(ish) sports reporter Paul Coutard (Max Boublil) makes a hash of covering the story and his punishment is to organise the paper’s annual charity event alongside his nemesis, the editor’s PA Emmanuelle (Vanessa Guide). Paul decides to try something completely different, a women’s football match. Coutard is a sad character who thinks he is ‘hip’ and initially imagines it will be fun to audition young women for a team and enjoy watching them run around in tiny shorts. I won’t spoil the rest of the narrative which is fairly predictable but I’ll note that the original newspaper scenario seems to be abandoned only to turn up in another guise – Paul’s actual job seems to disappear but his antics with the women’s team become fodder for the tabloids. The comedy becomes a rom-com when Emmanuelle removes her glasses but the sports story, although it utilises several familiar genre narrative devices, doesn’t head for the usual sporting triumph. Instead the contest is really about the struggle to get women’s football taken seriously.
The real historical events do seem to show that France was surprisingly behind most other European countries in the 1960s in the complete lack of any organised women’s football in the face of the intransigence of the national federation to even consider licensing women’s teams. (As in the UK there was a long history of organised women’s football and French and English teams met in front of large crowds in the 1920s but soon after, the national football authorities banned women’s football from professional stadia). The final repertoire that Comme des garçons therefore draws on is the ‘social problem’ of sexism in 1969 – not much different to sexism today. The struggle is represented partly through the comedy and this is where the film does become quite heavy-handed I think. But it did remind me of some of the broader comic moments of 1960s/70s films like Nelly Kaplan’s La fiancée du pirate or François Truffaut’s Une belle fille comme moi (France 1972). It’s modern links are to a film like Populaire (France-Belgium 2012) which is a 1950s set romantic comedy melded with a sport/competition film about ‘speed typing’. That film boasted the star power of Romain Duris and Déborah François and a much stronger aesthetic sense. Comme des garçons has fun with its 1969 vintage vehicles, its pop soundtrack and occasionally with costumes but I didn’t feel a strong sense of time and place. I discovered afterwards that one of the dialogue writers, Claude Le Pape had also worked on Les combattants (France 2014). Perhaps she might have played a bigger writing role? I struggled to read an interview in French with writer-director Julien Hallard and I wasn’t convinced about his overall approach.
The two best-known films focusing on women and football are Bend it Like Beckham (UK-Germany 2002) and Offside (Iran 2006), very different films but both successful in attracting audiences and making real statements. They both focus on the young women at the centre of the narrative and have a clear narrative drive with a conviction about where they want to go. Comme des garçons suffers from making the male journalist the protagonist and not having a similarly strong narrative drive. Having said that, it is still an enjoyable film to watch and for UK viewers there is one familiar character and actor. As in Bend it Like Beckham, it is the father, in this case Emmanuelle’s father who will eventually support his daughter. And here dad is played by BBC4’s ‘Inspector Montalbano’ himself, Luca Zingaretti. (I’m not sure the shorts are a good idea Salvo!)
Official trailer (no subtitles):
Christmas Day this year meant our biennial treat at home with a digital projector, a screen and a DVD of the last film by François Truffaut. I’d not seen it before and I thoroughly enjoyed it despite having had too many glasses of wine. I’ve watched sequences again before starting this post.
I realise with horror that it is 50 years since I watched my first Truffaut, Baisers volés (1968), and I’ve grown old with the director’s alter ego Antoine Doinel. Over the years I have been mainly a faithful fan but occasionally I’ve become impatient with what I’ve seen as Truffaut’s failure to leave an adolescent view of women behind (which may also be a fear that I’m just as guilty). In this last film, which was released only a few months before his tragically early death, there are still traces of his adolescent desires but they are explored in a very playful narrative. Added to that, the film stars his then partner the terrific Fanny Ardant and mixes together the director’s ‘personal’ cinematic flourishes with his love for Hitchcock and film noir/pulp fiction- and touches on other ideas about genre. Truffaut’s script, co-written with long-term collaborators Suzanne Schiffman and Jean Aurel, is an adaptation of the ‘hard-boiled’ crime novel The Long Saturday Night (1962) by Charles Williams. It’s appropriate in a way that Truffaut’s final film returns him to the world of noir fiction associated with the idea of the polar in France. Wikipedia suggests that much more of Williams’ work is currently in print in France than in the US. Truffaut’s three earlier forays in adapting similar books are Tirez sur le pianiste (1960, based on a David Goodis novel), La mariée était en noir (1968, Cornell Woolrich) and La sirène du Mississippi (1969 again based on a Cornel Woolrich novel). These last two films both feature femmes fatales in the form of Jeanne Moreau and Catherine Deneuve. The difference in Vivement Dimanche! is that Fanny Ardant’s character is an investigator and we don’t think of her as possibly deceitful (though there are other women in the film who are). The film is also comic and almost surreal in certain scenes.
The film is set in Provence and begins with the murder of a duck hunter. We don’t get a good view of who pulls the trigger but suspicion immediately falls on Julien Vercel (Jean-Louis Trintignant) who has been hunting in the same area. He runs an estate agency (real estate) and on return from his hunting trip falls out with his secretary/receptionist/office manager Barbara (Fanny Ardant). The case against Vercel strengthens when it is revealed that the murdered man was sleeping with Vercel’s wife. As coincidences and connections pile up and more murders follow, Vercel is forced into hiding and Barbara becomes the effective investigator of the crimes.
Truffaut decided to make the film, shot by Néstor Almendros, in black and white. According to Serge Toubiana, in the introduction included on the DVD, this decision caused problems with French TV which co-funded the production and at the time was committed to ‘colour-only’ productions. Truffaut felt that colour on his earlier noirs in 1968/9 was a mistake and he was justified to a certain extent in that Vivement Dimanche! was commercially successful. He also urged Almendros to work quickly to create a ‘B movie look’. In doing so he seems to have adopted a certain view of Hollywood film noir (several ‘A movie’ noirs, especially from RKO, seem to have been viewed as ‘B’s). It also confuses Truffaut’s other aim which seems to have been to create a Hitchcockian ‘romance thriller’. This type of film is often defined by The 39 Steps (1935) or its later version, North by North West (1959). In these films the hero is falsely accused, goes on the run and is helped by a woman. The couple fall for each other, but not before they have fought and perhaps deceived each other unsure of the other person’s motives. The 39 Steps was a black & white Hitchcock, as were most of his films until the late 1940s. North by Northwest was widescreen and colour. Vivement Dimanche! melds some typical Hitchcockian use of close-ups and noir shadows with the more pulpish action of 1940s noir. Barbara at first seems to be in dispute with Julien but later becomes the active protagonist positively helping him. Truffaut’s regular composer Georges Delerue provides a score that is effective for suspense and danger but also for ‘romance’.
In the polar (roughly defined as the French crime film), there is often a specific relationship between the criminal protagonist and the police Inspector who is trying to catch him. The Inspector is also often a rather eccentric character. In Truffaut’s film, the chief police officer Santelli has his comedy moment when he fails to control the tap (faucet) on a wash basin, an incident which seems to confirm his status. The other added ingredient in the film is an amateur theatre troupe. Barbara is a member of the troupe and as well as comic interludes, her role in the current production provides her with a costume which she finds herself wearing during her sleuthing – and then being forced to cover up with a raincoat. Truffaut reportedly dreamed up the idea of the narrative when somebody said that images of Fanny Ardant in a raincoat in her previous Truffaut film La femme d’à côté (1981) reminded them of film noir.
I think what surprised me most about the film was Jean-Louis Trintignant’s performance as Julien. It seems rather stolid and lacking either the elegance of a Cary Grant or the vulnerability of a Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcockian versions of a similar character. But what it does do (presumably deliberately) is to thrown the spotlight on Fanny Ardant who is elegant, beautiful, resourceful and light-hearted – combining all the qualities of both partners in the Hitchcockian couple. Truffaut is often said to have favoured weak men and strong women and to have argued that stories need to be built around women rather than men. In Vivement Dimanche! he seemed finally to have found his female hero. Perhaps it is significant that at the end of the film, the line which I always associate with Truffaut, “Women are magic!”, is given to the murderer. Earlier in the film, Julien is seen staring at his wife’s legs as she fusses with her stockings a reference back to the almost fetishistic interest shown by Truffaut’s male characters in women who are often older or wiser. Fanny Ardant in heels is also taller than Jean-Louis Trintignant and reminds us of the scene in Baisers volés when Jean-Pierre Leaud’s Antoine Doinel walks with a woman who is a head taller. Other elements in the film linked to Truffaut’s personal interests include a popular cultural reference to pony-trap racing (trotting?) in Nice and a visit to the cinema which is showing Stanley Kubrick’s 1957 film Paths of Glory. Truffaut also repeats one of Godard’s questionable choices- asking his partner to play a prostitute, though in this case Fanny Ardant simply dresses appropriately in order to visit a red light district as part of her investigation.
The original novel was written in the 1960s and because of the choice of black & white and the avoidance of any modern(ist) architecture, I’m wondering if the film is meant to be set in the 1960s or to suggest the era. No doubt car enthusiasts could tell by the models on display. The Provence setting (IMDb suggests Hyères and Var as locations) makes me wonder whether some scenes were shot in the Victorine Studios in Nice (where Truffaut shot La nuit américaine in 1973) but research suggests that the studio was in a very bad way by 1983. Even so some scenes feel like they are studio sets, including Julien’s ‘hideaway’ in the back of his business premises. This is one of the surreal elements in the film as Truffaut’s mise en scène and camera movement makes it impossible to properly place how the back room leads into the front office (in other words it seems obvious that the police would search the building looking for him).
The plot extends the ‘long Saturday night’ or, at least, I think it does. The plotting is so loose that I wasn’t sure of the ‘story time’ or the geography of the events. The English-language title, Confidentially Yours seems almost meaningless. Despite this I think the film works very well as a stylish romp with Fanny Ardant excelling in her role. I must go soon to the previous Truffaut in which she stars as ‘the woman next door’.
Katell Quillévéré (who directed and co-wrote the script based on Maylis de Kerangal’s novel) is a talent new to me and I can’t wait to see more. Heal the Living focuses on a heart transplant: the first half of the film deals with the donor’s death and his family’s reaction; part two is about the recipient. The film manages to represent sublime moments in life: for the donor it is surfing (superbly photographed); for the recipient it is a piano concert played by a former lover. It also has a documentary eye on the actual heart surgery and, more importantly, the way doctors and nurses deal with the extreme emotions involved in the death of a child and the professional necessity of getting on with the job.
Of course such extremes rely on the actors to deliver the director’s vision and the assemble cast deliver with utmost skill. The putative star, Tahir Rahim (above right), has less screen time than some but manages to convey deep humanity from an apparently passive face; Quillévéré gives him time to explain why he loves goldfinches, to the be/amusement of a couple of nurses. The other ‘big name’, Emmanuelle Seigner, is similarly superb as the bereaved mother. However, all the cast hold there own with deeply committed performances.
It may appear a film about organ donation will be a ‘bit grim’, and there is much sadness represented in the film, but ultimately it is life affirming. Quillévéré takes time to dip into the lives of peripheral characters: a nurse has a sexual fantasy in a lift; a son hides his ‘dropping out’ from his mother. Her presentation of the bewilderment and joy of youth, when a boy meets a girl, is affectingly done and I’ve already mentioned the joie de vivre of the surfing sequence.
I read that the heart surgery scene is all special effects: they are as impressive as the film itself. Often cinema is an idea medium to spend some time in the ‘lives of others’. Heal the Living gives us time to understand the pain of the bereaved and at the same time understand the vitality of life.
Girls of the Sun was screened at Cannes this year as part of the Official Competition. It was one of only three films directed by women in the main competition in this year of #MeToo. Unfortunately, while the other two women (Alice Rohrwacher and Nadine Labaki) were both genuine contenders for the big prize with Happy as Lazzaro and Capernaum, Eva Husson’s Girls of the Sun was given something of a ‘thumbs down’ by the Cannes critics. I would like to have refuted their putdown, but I have to admit that the film has flaws (not helped by Screen 5 at the Vue suffering sound problems again).
The ‘girls’ of the title are actually women who have joined the Kurdish military in order to fight to liberate their home town which was taken by Daesh. With their husbands and fathers executed, the women and their children were kidnapped and then the young boys were taken to be trained as Daesh fighters. The women, who subsequently escaped, were then recruited for the fight. It’s a harrowing and important story which deserves to be more widely known – see this report on Kurdish women in the Peshmerga. The film was shot in Georgia and the central role is taken by Golshifteh Farahani, the Iranian actor who was so good in About Elly (Iran 2009) but who later left for France and who has subsequently appeared in international films. Farahani plays the role of Bahar, the commander of what the promo material calls a ‘batallion’ of female soldiers. In fact by the time the fighting proper begins this appears to be reduced to more like a small squad of less than ten.
Eva Husson, making only her second cinema feature as writer-director makes a number of important strategic decisions which perhaps seemed a good idea at the time but which I think perhaps didn’t quite work out as she planned. First she decided to present her story as a non-linear narrative with a series of flashbacks woven into the main narrative showing how the women were first kidnapped and how some escaped. At the end of the film we saw possibly the same explosion as at the beginning – which Keith suggested meant that everything was actually a flashback to two different time periods. He may well be correct. I confess at the beginning I was trying to cope with the loud and unfortunately distorting soundtrack comprising rather bombastic music scored by Husson’s regular collaborator, the American musician Morgan Kibby. The second choice was to include the character of a French war correspondent Mathilde played by Emmanuelle Bercot (who I last saw in Mon Roi, 2015). Bercot is a powerful figure (with six directorial credits) and in the film’s opening sequence her character seems to be the protagonist. But in time we realise that Mathilde’s role is mainly to observe/witness the story of the female fighters. Since there is a sub-genre of ‘journalist under fire’ pictures with examples from Hollywood, European and ‘international’ cinemas, I found this a little confusing – as if Eva Husson was not quite sure what to do with her character while the audience is expecting the journalist to become an active agent in the narrative. The journalist’s role seems to be partly as listener when Bahar tells the women’s story. She also enables us to see how dangerous war reporting is during this kind of close fighting.
I don’t want to give the impression that this is a ‘bad film’. Golshifteh Farahani and the other women are convincing fighters and the action scenes are exciting enough. There is a strong sense of this being the story of women literally observed by a woman and that’s fine. I just had the nagging feeling that it wasn’t working as well as it should. It’s perhaps significant that at one point (or was it soon after the film ended?) I was reminded of the Bollywood action epic earlier this year with Salman Khan and Katrina Kaif which imagined a similar scenario with women needing to be rescued from a terrorist stronghold in Iraq. Katrina Kaif’s ‘super spy’ is very impressive in taking out so many black-clad warriors with her choreographed martial arts techniques. This is a very silly film but actually quite entertaining. Girls of the Sun is very serious (rightly so) but a bit clunky by comparison. I remembered later that Agnès Poirier had written an angry piece in the Guardian during the Cannes Festival in which she calls the film exploitative and argues that is not a feminist film since the two lead characters are defined mostly by motherhood rather than by their political activity. She was defending film critics who had called out against the film from the #MeToo activists who blamed poor reviews on male film critics. She has a point but perhaps both sides of the argument need to cool down a bit. Eva Husson’s background suggests an intelligent and talented woman from a family steeped in anti-fascist action. She won’t have attempted to exploit Peshmerga women – but perhaps the script needed a bit more development?
Sébastien Marnier’s second film as a director (he also co-wrote) is pleasing in that it deals with the key political, indeed existential, issue of our time: ecological destruction. It’s couched as a thriller where Laurent Laffitte’s Pierre takes over, as a substitute teacher in a private school, a class of gifted children. Their previous teacher jumped out of the class’ second floor window during a test. The slow burn development of what’s going on in the six of the kids’ creepy minds is satisfying but the denouement can’t hold the burden of what precedes it.
The kids could be out of The Damned or Village of the Damned such is their apparent disassociation from the social world; unsurprisingly the other children in the school see them as elitist (which is a bit rich considering they all are privileged). Pierre endeavours to understand them (suitably he’s completing a thesis on Kafka reflecting the absurdity of the situation he finds himself in) and rails against the Principal who (a malaise in France as well as the UK apparently) is only concerned with results. However, it is always difficult to convince a teacher (ex in my case) of the veracity of school life and I cannot believe that violent attack on Pierre would have been shrugged off in such a perfunctory fashion (unless that’s France for you).
There are plenty of beautiful, portentous, shots of the sky and I kept expecting aliens to arrive but, as the horrifying ‘found footage’ of animal cruelty and desecration of the Earth shows, the real threat are humans who are depriving our children of a future. Zombie Zombie’s music heavy-handedly emphasises the point, however the film needed a bigger climax though the final scene is quite haunting.