Is “Intouchables,” France’s choice to compete for the Best Foreign Language Oscar, France’s best?

France submitted one of the most profitable and popular films, if not the most, in its recent history, Intouchables, as its entry in the Best Foreign Language film category for the Oscars.  That’s great, and maybe problematic: it sparked controversy in the U.S. because its lead character, Driss, reflects to America’s most chronic persistent racial stereotypes.  The New York Times wrote about and criticized it in the spring.

In America race is one of the hardest, most awkward, most personal and most prickly subjects to raise, much less confront.  When I think about Intouchables, on one hand, I understand the nearly universal enthusiasm and delight in response to it, based on a true life story.  It’s an exuberant tale that joins two of the least likely men, from two of the edges of society.  On another hand, if you’re sensitized to and paying attention to them, you’ll soon find a few major stereotypes at play.

In the last 20 years, only a few Francophone films have dealt with race with forthright courage: Café au Lait, (1993) and La Haine (1995) (which translates literally as “hate”), both by Mathieu Kassovitz, who was called France’s own Spike Lee, when Lee was at the zenith of his polemical and popular works.  Café au Lait is the story about a mixed-race 20-something woman who has a choice between two lovers: a white Jew or a black Muslim.  La Haine looks at race from a neighborhood and economic point of view

In 2010 Le Nom des Gens came from France.  It’s at least as exuberant as, but I believe more memorable and smarter than, Intouchables.  And it contends with race, politics and religion in a deft, subtle, hilarious and sophisticated way.  Unfortunately Intouchables doesn’t.

The actor, Omar Sy, a star in France, spoke to this briefly but pithily on Shadow and Act.

Omar Sy: I was a bit surprised to hear the criticism, because it’s a film that I believe in, I defend the film, and I would never be involved in a film that has racist overtones. It’s a French movie and it has to be read in the context of a French society. If you look at it with a different set of criteria you can come up with a different meaning.

 

In France, the banlieues (suburbs) is a completely different environment than what you have in the United States. It’s not as racially segmented. The people from the banlieues, be they from Hispanic origin or black origin, they’re in the same socio-economic slice. In America, [people of color] may have ancestry tied to slavery or immigration.

Daphnee Denis discussed this ably in her posting for Slate.

After I saw the film at the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival, I faced a fork in the road of discussing it.  I could choose between leveling a critique or criticism.  When people asked for my opinion or review of it, their interest in a conversation would rapidly dissipate if I raised my concerns about the stereotypes, and the bigotry that their presence implied.

(left to right) Francois Cluzet and Omar Sy

What’ll this bode for how well or how much better either country digs the other’s point of view on race, or recognizing it?  At the least (and maybe least useful) it reminds us, yet once more, of how much farther each country has to venture in order to shed our connection of everything in life to color and features (or the denial of that as a social reality).

Talking about is a part of the power of a provocative movie.  Isn’t it the movies that leave us with blank minds and nothing to say that are the problems?

So, this impass at a movie theater, and between countries and cultures, presents an opportunity to discuss how race, too often discussed in divisive and agonizing ways in the US and “never” officially in France, is understood in a hit film.  I regret that as seldom as these opportunities come, it is just as rare when any of us handles them as smoothly as most of us say we want.

American Movie-Goers Miss Out by Letting Foreign Movies Pass Them By

Recently a great friend asked me about “The Artist,” the French- and Belgian-made film from 2011, which earned the lastest Academy Award for Best Picture.  Another friend asked me about “A Separation,” from Iran, also from 2011.

Those conversations reminded me about how much I appreciate other foreign films: “Walk on Water,” from 2004, and “The Holy Land,” from 2001.  Both of them are from Israel.

More and more often North American movies rely on other countries’ moneys for success.  If you read movie critics’ columns often enough you know how often American movies depend on foreign rights and revenues in order to be make films, and in-turn profits.

The Artist Poster on the Tube from Annie Mole

I was reminded about films, like those mentioned above, that beg to be recommended to friends.  After having answered one friend’s question about “The Artist,” which I’ve not yet seen, I recommended those Israeli films.

And, yet foreign films seems to strike Americans as strange or out-of the way; literally foreign.  More so than necessary.

Why do so many American movie-goers flock to American-made titles, while also whining about a decline in their quality, value and ingenuity?

  • A common complaint about foreign movies is having to deal with subtitles.
  • Maybe there’s a snob factor, or an assumption that foreign film fans are a club, and you have to pay dues?

Hey.  When you run out of American films you want to watch why not turn to the best ones from France, Israel, the United Kingdom or elsewhere?

“The Names of Love” is a fantastic French romantic dramedy about two clashing lovers

“The Names of Love” (« Les noms des gens » in French) is a story, from director Michel Leclerc, that one could easily say is “so French.”  It pits Baya Benmahmoud (Sara Forestier), a 20-something, hypersexual, left-winger, born of an Algerian dad, against Arthur Martin (Jacques Gamblin) a middle-aged healthcare professional born of a Jewish mom.  They clash politically and ideologically.  But they face an undeniable chemistry despite occasionally rational thought.

This shows at the Edina Cinema for a week from August 26th.

Baya Benmahmood (Sara Forestier) is a lefty charmer in "The Names of Love" (courtesy Music Box Films)

Still each tries to be rational because they don’t know how they could be together and not go nuts, or kill each other, if not both!  Arthur is the story’s star, but also Baya’s milquetoast straight man in this fantastic, joyous and hilarious story.

The first scene is indelible.  Arthur is on-air on the radio in the middle of discussing bird flu on a call-in show.  Baya shows up at the station for work, screening the show’s calls.  Finding his ideas dangerous, she abandons her cube and barges into the studio, and then calls Arthur out, with animated zeal.

The story follows this clashing couple’s relationship from accidental meetings to meant ones and the milestones.  Their romance’s absurd comedy feels like a smart version of Abbott & Costello.

After that auspicious beginning they go to an eatery where Baya offers Arthur sex on the first date – that’s her policy.  She strikes him dumb and speechless, and he flees the awkwardness and opportunity.  His daily luck with women?  Let’s put this way: to steal a line from The Prince of Tides: “he had the opposite of the Midas touch!”

Baya meets Arthur's conservative parents in "The Names of Love" (courtesy Music Box Films))

The first act’s mania and hilarity follow the first sequence’s lead: Baya and Arthur each tells us how they were brought up and by what sort of parents.  Arthur’s memory plays games on him, and in-turn on the story.  For example: he can’t imagine his dad when he was young.  No matter how young he should be in his son’s flashback, like as a college freshman he looks like a retiree, and loopily out-of-place.  It’s often hilarious.  It works.  With Baya, there’s less drama.  Her mom was a daughter of middle-class privilege who rebelled, eventually loving an Algerian, a former soldier.  Her memory plays tricks in different, subtler ways.

Her sexual conduct and attitude has a political agenda.  She lives by the creed “make love, not war.”  She uses it as a weapon, as another prong of rhetoric.  Kind of like a one-off from Carl VonClausewitz’s “On War:” a continuation of political struggle by erotic or erotic and rhetorical means.  She uses her erotic and sensual skills to convert her conservative foes to her way of seeing.

Strolling in "The Names of Love" (courtesy Music Box Films)

“The Names of Love” provides a bounty of charming, witty, amusing characters, scenes and sequences and touches of technique.  And these at such a quick pace that we’re swept up.  It’s not profound.  It is a profound gem in how it can make a viewer smile, chuckle and then guffaw.

Other sight gags: in other important scenes, the camera plays with point of view. This works some subtly potent wonders; it shows a two-shot of a couple, that makes sense, and then pans to reveal a third wheel that changes the scene’s meaning entirely.

Because of temporary “lessons” with her piano teacher as a child, subtly played out, the college-aged Baya holds none of a common sexual or erotic conservatism that’s familiar to most Americans.  If a tit peaks or bounds out of her often loose blouse by accident, it’s a non-event to her.

In one of the many memorable sequences they meet accidentally each other at a polling place.  There, she offers him sex again.  On the way to that, they stop at a grocery.  In line, she flees to find the last vital ingredient, coriander.

And then her scattered brain goes full-tilt: she runs into someone.  He reminds her to make a 180 degree change in plans.  Not toreturn to Arthur, but to prepare for a party.  She goes home to collect something, strips, forgets to dress, and then leaves home to take care of yet another scatterbrained errand.  On the way, she passes the market, naked save for boots.  Arthur, incredulous, seesher.  He’s still waiting for her inside.  This concisely summarizes the movie’s looniness and charms.

Baya and Arthur charm each other in "The Names of Love" (courtesy Music Box Films)

La pièce de résistance: before the mania of that sequence ends Baya winds up on a train flashing a Muslim couple the female half of which is dressed in what is almost a burqa.

This witty, funny, often hilarious film will suit you whether or not you want to think; it provides an intelligent escape.  The romance’s common peaks and valleys are drawn with great gaiety.

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“Point Blank” is a French thriller that gives good chase. Good smart chase.

“Point Blank” starts just as its title does, without foreplay.  The first shot jolts us into a story, of smart escapism.

On a typical workday Samuel (Gilles Lellouche), a nursing assistant in France, tries to stop a suspicious hospital visitor in a lab coat from messing with an injured criminal, Hugo Sartet (Roschdy Zem), being treated after having fled an attack.  He pursues the man in a lab coat, but merely shoos him.  In another world that wouldn’t even be a blip.

Too bad he and his pregnant wife, Nadia Pierret (Elena Anaya), are in for the shock of their lives: someone breaks in to their apartment and seizes her before he can see or sense anything.  But why?

Sam leaps into a situation well beyond him

“Point Blank,” from director Fred Cavayé, opens at Minneapolis’ Lagoon Cinema on August 19th.

This event up-ends loving pregnant couple, Sam and Nadia’s, work-a-day urban life, like a chainsaw.  Sam must deliver a dangerous package – that seasoned, violent criminal – to the man who has taken his pregnant wife.  His pregnant wife is in the middle of a volatile pregnancy.  The stakes couldn’t be more grave or personal.

This resembles a familiar, iconic character, right?  Smart and ambitious, Samuel is an ordinary man who’s thrown into extraordinary circumstances of crime, betrayal and corruption.  Remember Roger Thornhill in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1954 “North By Northwest,” or simply 1993′s “The Fugitive.”

The worlds of Sam, the abductor, and Hugo, his hostage, collide; the irony is that the innocent one is the abductor, pushed to desperation, to muscle and hustle a real criminal away from his guarded hospital bed to freedom.

The biggest irony is probably that these two disparate men amount to a good pair!  They cooperate with each other when one of his agendas – Hugo’s safety, or Sam’s, but particularly Nadia’s – is jeopardized.  This, while they spend most of their time tugging and yanking each other into opposite, rarely natural directions.  Against the American stereotype of non-Anglo criminals, Hugo is consistently calmer than Sam.  He’s also a complex, thoughtful semi-compassionate criminal, with copper skin and wooly hair.  In American crime stories, the brown, black or beige criminal is either foolish or viscious, if not both.

"Hostage" Hugo isn't to be trifled with

At 83-mins, “Point Blank” is just long enough to be seen as a feature-length film, but it still feels like a full movie.  When as an American, you think of a French thriller, “La Femme Nikita” pops to mind, and even “Taken,” although the latter merely takes place in Paris.  “Point Blank” is fast-paced, and has wit.  For a thriller, a chase thriller that’s rare.  It provides more than the basics: characters we care about and a gripping plot.

Another interesting surprise: when’s the last time you got opera music in a thriller, it fit and worked for you?  “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” with Jimmy Stewart, had an orchestra scene, hmm almost a motif, but that’s different.­  Well, after an intense chase scene (one among many) we get this vocal, which let’s the pace and our hearts slow down.

“Point Blank” borrows music and specific shots from “The Bourne Ultimatum” and takes cues from Bernard Hermann’s music, which marked a few different Hitchcock oeuvres, such as “The Man Who Knew Too Much.”  It’s worth noting that family, the protection of family is at the heart of both that film and “Point Blank.”  That’s atypical for a thriller.

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“Potiche” is a French retro farce of sexual & workplace politics, which might remind you of “Nine to Five”

“Potiche” a French farce of sexual politics, set in the 1970s is an amusing, campy and retro story.   This story of a trophy wife (the translation of potiche) who takes her CEO husband’s place at the umbrella factory, which he claimed from the marriage.

This feels like a flipside telling of the 1980 workplace comedy movie, “Nine-to-Five.”  The look, feel is out-dated, but that retro view helps to make this basically smart, but also shallow story amuse us.

“Potiche” takes place when the U.S. was amid its feminist and labor revolutions, which were also marked by “women’s work” sections of the newspaper want ads.

Landmark Theatres’  shows this at the Edina Cinema for a week from April 29th.

There is une petite leçon beyond the campy and ironical comedy.  It’s worth seeing.

“The Princess of Montpensier” reminds us that wars have been fought over women

“The Princess of Montpensier” is a costume romantic drama, from Bertrand Tavernier, and set in the 1500s.  The fight over the princess’ favors reminds us of what much of classical poetry and literature has observed: “wars have been fought over the favors of a woman.”

This is an era that damns the men, even the kingdom and dooms her.  Marie (Mélanie Thierry) is torn between two men, two cousins’ love (unrelated to her).  One she wants, Henri de Guise (Gaspard Ulliel).  The other, who she doesn’t, Prince de Montpensier, (Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet) but her father does – for politics and property.  He coerces her into marrying the prince, but the prince is too young and too immature to be a good match for his newly arranged wife.

poster (courtesy Flickr/Creative Commons)

This will be showing at Landmark Theatres’ Edina Theater for a week from Aprill 22nd.

This princess’ life and the story become more fraught when we see that all the men who spend a lot of time around the princess are enchanted by her, succombing to her assets.  The prince’s mentor and tutor, the Comte de Chabannes (Lambert Wilson) a gentleman, warrior and scholar – a rarity.  And the prince’s commander, Duc d’Anjou (Raphael Personnaz), also vies for Marie.  While the Comte is deliberate about this, showing his maturity, the Duc is younger, impulsive and urgent (or just lusty) about it.

This is one of those “if only” stories, where you notice that, if not for one road taken, there’d be none of this trouble – but also this intricate story, this romantic and political tumult and suspense wouldn’t interest us.

An exchange tells a lot about the princess’ and the prince’s bond: on their way into his castle…

He asks “When will you love me?”

She says, “When you order me to?”

–If only she didn’t cave in to her dad.

–If only women hadn’t been considered chattel and beasts of burden then.  And head-strong women were such oddities as to be thought mad.

The most interesting subplot belongs to the best-drawn supporting character, the Comte de Chabannes; he’s a warrior turned pacifist.  He laid down his long sword after having killed a very vulnerable woman by accident, but in the heat of a fight.

The romantic and political intrigues are complex to a Shakespearian level.  More than a few shades of truths and lies push Marie, her husband, her tutor and the Comte away from one another – but mostly her.

The beautiful colors used in the costumes and photography overall draw our attention, but the plot, the performances and the plotting over love and lust command that attention.  Those scenic colors are incidental to the great characters and the ways in which their stories clash with one anothers’.

See this film!

The big problem: the more than two hour sitting might make you antsy, even though the story’s great.  Also, if you want sword fights, serious ones from this, you might find the few in this to be pale and shallow.

French Canadian “Heartbeats” shows us real, crazy love – although in a triangle

“Heartbeats” is an exceptional French Canadian film, from Quebec.  Two best friends, Marie (Monia Chokri) and Francis (Xavier Dolan), meet a beguiling local Adonis, Nicolas (Niels Schneider), who seems interested in each of them.  This is a dramatic romance from writer-director-producer Xavier Dolan, who also portrays the lovelorn Francis (and handles at least three other behind-the-scenes roles).

Three...lovers? with "Heartbeats" (courtesy IFC films)

Minneapolis’ Lagoon Cinema will show this enchanting, exquisite film for a week beginning on April 1st.

The two friends are lost in Cupid’s static, if you want to call it that.  Nicolas loves spending time with either Marie or Francis – as friends.  After having suffered the typical agonies of young love, their desires for Nic’s interest works against them. That may even be Marie and Francis’ respective enemy.  They each want love and intimacy – to be rid of the often crazy-making game of love, and into Nic’s arms.

“Heartbeats” starts abruptly with several 20-somethings talk to the screen, describing their very different romantic mishaps and agonies, both real and virtual.  It’s a hilarious and poignant tool.  This tool, in breaking the fourth wall, reminds you of Spike Lee’s debut feature, 1986′s “She’s Gotta Have It,” which is another story of complicated love.  But this ain’t humor.  It’s heartache.

Marie hungry for love, wants the confusion to stop! (courtesy IFC films)

After the first talk-to-the-screen montage, which divides the acts, Marie and Francis meet Nic. They find his charms, their chemistry and fun with him won’t be enough; it won’t satisfy any of them, except for him.  This is a fun, very witty and urbane take on a love triangle tale.

Our awkward trio forms the heart of the movie.  One run-in shows just how frustrated and funny this is.  After Francis hears about how much Nic loves mid-20th-Century actress, Audrey Hepburn, he buys a poster of her.  Then after bumping into Nic, Francis gives him the poster, expecting at least a kiss, a romantic gesture.  There’s a problem: Nic likes the poster, and likes Francis for having given it, but only as much as he likes the poster.  Francis clearly feels like crap, rejected: confusion, pain and hope trounced.

Unfortunately Marie and Francis put this on themselves.  When you’re hungry for love – no, starving – logic and reasoning aren’t only pointless, but even enemies.  Their hungry competition for Nic’s love tests their bond as best friends.

Movie love stories are weird because they’re rarely realistic.  Most characters don’t act like we see in life, but like we expect in movies.  With “Heartbeats” we have more realism.  That’s refreshing.  Most movie-goers will probably want something fun and witty.  They’ll want this erotic tale of desire and longing to have an insipid format.  This’ll satisfy those who liked and chatted about 1989′s “Say Anything” or 2000′s “High Fidelity,” but offer something more.

Nicolas, the object of Marie and Francis' affection (courtesy IFC films)

A few delightful technical things helped “Heartbeats” to be a delight overall.  Most American movies’ musical scores support and match their stories and images just fine; it’s often symbolic.  The editing, the “montage” in “Heartbeats” goes one better.  It’s lyrical.  Xavier Dolan lifts his montage to a refreshing and cool level.  The images and music are symbiotically connected; they don’t merely match, but are one.  This film’s montage is intimate and beguiling; as beguiling as our two best friends find Nic.

The gently intense music video tone in those montages reminds you of the one that helped to make 1991′s “Deep Cover” by Bill Duke stand out; entertainment reporters fawned over its staccato bits of montage.  Each shot in the montages flows in-sync with the percussion.  Another remarkable montage was used during a party scene: Marie and Francis each liken Nic to art, fine art.  As they watch him at the party, they see these images intercut, in their imaginations, with shots of him dancing with another woman.  For Marie she sees a god-like statue.  For Francis, he sees an impressionist pencil drawing for Francis.

How about a silly Anglicized title?  When you speak a foreign language, like French, fluidly if not fluently, foolish or bad translations of movie titles frustrate you.  The original title, “Les Amours Imaginaires,” (The Imaginary Loves) describes the plot’s emotional gravity and intensity very well.  Many of those people, who watch independent movies, will understand.  “Heartbeats” is a très Américain translation: dull, disappointing and off-the-mark.  C’est la vie.

If you want a score without using numbers, then “Les Amours Imaginaires” is something to see.

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Who likes foreign movies? How ’bout a festival? Online..? Maybe not!

If you love movies, if you love foreign films and festivals, but the inherent crowds irk you, then how about MyFrenchFilmFestival.com?  Another way to watch foreign movies online.  This inaugural film festival began on January 14 and finishes on the 30th.

Géraldine Nakache and Leïla Bekhti in "All That Glitters" (courtesy creative commons)

I tried to watch two titles, “All that Glitters” [Tout Ce Qui Brille in French], about two 20-something suburban women who yearn for Paris’ bright lights, and “Spies” [Espions in French] a story that asks “what if James Bond were brilliant and French, but also a misfit, slacker without patriotism?” Several of the 10 titles looked worthwhile. I say tried, even strove, because after 10- or 20-minutes even with a strong, reliable Wifi connections, the movies played as though they were under strobes lights –stuttering, clunky.

While this web-based film festival isn’t the first, or necessarily unique, it is different and special, but also damned irksome. Its predecessors are Babelgum Online Film Festival, which began in 2007, offering movies that mostly avoid or ignore conventional or feature films, and the New York Film Academy and PutItOn.com, which held their second online festival in 2010.  Neither of these seem to offer the opportunity to watch foreign movies online.  So maybe try MyFrenchFilmFestival.com?

Well, while MyFrenchFilmFestival boasts 10 films from emerging French feature filmmakers and many shorts, brace yourself for the internet headaches…  People talk about payback.  The problem is playback, even with a strong Wifi connection.  With this inaugural online film festival, you waste more energy coaxing the movie to play than enjoying it.  It’s a trial for a movie critic to review something that literally almost not watchable.  You try to steady the clunky play back somehow, by making circles in the corner of your screen with the mouse, but…that’s tiresome, and futile.  If you want to pause or come back to watching the film, too bad, so sad. – You’re screwed.

“All that Glitters” would’ve been a romp, watching these young women find their ways and a little bit more about themselves, and reconciling their suburban doldrums and fantasies about Parisian night life.  It’s probably a good romp if the web system cooperates with movie viewers.

Then a few days after struggling to enjoy the story of this female duo, a surge of optimism came.  How about another go of it, with “Spies?” It’s a strong, smart film that has a French version of James Bond, if he lacked the glamour or sense of service. The first half played well enough, making you want to stick with it, even if your attention was split between fiddling with a mouse and actually watching it.  But when the movie starts playing more like a skipping slideshow, and the subtitles seem to fall out-of-sync or drop off entirely, you’re lost – Patience drained. Enthusiasm spent.

Nice try, maybe.  This film festival, or this method makes it hard to watch foreign movies online.  In how many ways can we compare this clunkiness to European politics?

Giving Thanks for foreign films, which flirt with romance

The pilgrims wanted to find or create liberty for themselves by creating a new home away from Britain’s crown. (Never mind the conceit that they showed in taking the aboriginals’ land.)  As moviegoers we go to foreign film, in part to move our experiences beyond America’s conventional-come-insipid, though often entertaining titles.  Some of those are free from the constraints of American films’ style and grammar.

We do so much for love, or out of our idea of it.  No matter whether that’s in pursuit of a special man, a special woman, or a film that reminds us that something can be special.

It could be for love...or a crime, with "The Secret in Their Eyes"

Forget “Love, American Style,” (which was an American TV program from 1969-1974) think beyond the North American borders, and those mental borders and the biases, which you might harbor toward American-style film storytelling.  Let’s be thankful that we can watch foreign films that give us different, even disparate vantage points on romance (and tumultuous questions of justice, which are often and easily as thorny as those of love).

How about Love, Argentinean style?: “The Secrets in Their Eyes” ["El secreto de sus ojos" in Spanish] tells a tangled tale of the pursuit of justice and a second chance for an unrequited romance.  A retired court officer, Bejamin Esposito, writes a novel in order to banish the demons of his career…   The “New York Times’” take on it might be the most potent: is it “both a detective story and a tale of unrequited love.”  “The Secrets in Their Eyes” boasts smart humor, a mature, sensitive a compelling investigative yarn that clashes with the “Law & Order” North American procedural way of considering crimes.

  • Who gets to see those often..?
  • Often enough..?

Think about Love, Spanish style: “Cell 211″ ["Celda 211" in Spanish] tells of a tangled prison riot where good is mistaken for bad.  It’s an uncommon prison riot film, with a love story.  This story, critiqued here, is a perverse melding of a charming love story, which turns wistful, and a prison uprising spanning one day, and which might remind you of the Attica prison uprising in 1971.  Juan Oliver, a do-gooder, becomes a criminal, while he hiding for his own safety among violent criminals.  He must bide his time until his new world returns to a realm of sanity, and he can squeeze his wife again in a hug.

These two films provide strengths and twists in narrative and character development that rarely happen in North American movies.

Love, French style is…such a worn out idea – a cliché.  We have “Mademoiselle Chambon.” You might ask “why bother; what new angle is there!?!”  Even if we consider the crush on teacher trope…  What if it were your dad?  What if he did nothing but respond to your teachers steady, increasingly intense interest in your dad?

Love. Lust. Mid-life questions. Wanderlust.  These are at the foundation of “Mademoiselle Chambon.” The trouble starts after she asks the dad, Jean,  to talk to her class about his work, construction.  She likes him – a lot.  As sordid as their tryst might become, their story demands and expects viewers’ patience.

We are treated to these innovative, challenging stories so rarely in North America (those viewers who want better concede and consent to conventional, banal film experiences).  Be thankful for countries and cultures that defy America’s standards and expectations for the routine, the typical, the retrod.

“Mademoiselle Chambon” at Minnesota Film Arts

On August 27th, Mademoiselle Chambon, will open at Minnesota Film Arts’ St. Anthony Main Theater. It’s a French film, by Stéphane Brizé, and adapted from a novel by Eric Holder. An elementary school teacher, Ms. Veronique Chambon (Sandrine Kiberlain) clicks with a work-a-day dad, Jean, (Vincent Lindon) whose son she teaches.  They click all the way into a tryst.

Mlle Chambon, the teacher, is enrapt with Jean's job talk

The trouble starts after she asks him to talk to her class about his work, construction.  He agrees, with a shrug.  He comes.  He talks.  He answers the students’ questions.  He has a good time.  Ms. Chambon likes Jean.

Love.

Lust.

Mid-life questions.

Wanderlust.

These are at Mademoiselle Chambon’s foundation.

This slowly becomes an affair. Jean and his wife, Anne-Marie, follow a predictable, seemingly content life with their son. They   are manual laborers.  One in construction, the other in a factory. And then Jean and we meet Mademoiselle Chambon. The predictability and contentment begin to crumble. The film starts in a deceptively daring way: it’s slow and tests our patience, and our typical conspicuous desire for action and fast-paced cutting. From the first POV shot where Jean glances at Ms. Chambon, from behind her as she sits atop a student’s desk, you know what will follow.

This meeting is supposed to be between parents and teacher. He has her undivided attention because his wife has fallen ill at the factory, and is on bed rest at home. The question to be answered: how deftly will, the director, Ms. Brizé execute their tryst? A fundamental and slippery rule of storytelling is to be predictable, but make sure that we’re surprised how it’s delivered. The tranquil and gentle tone and pace could lull us. But the way in which Jean and Veronique’s flirting grows from their lingering, even coy conversations, into something subtly disturbing is refreshing.

Jean and Ms. Chambon

The key scenes are cloaked in the guises of window repair, music appreciation, and where Veronique plays music at Jean’s home, during his father’s birthday.  Somehow that scene strikes notes that are sweet, and creepy, at once. These subtle scenes played so that each might go either in the impulsive and lustful path, or the sensible and responsible one.  We see what the film and its maker are doing when the duo’s conversations creep into a kind of small talk, which only happens when you can’t yet dare yourself to say what you need to. Jean and Veronique’s relationship is told more through silence, and coy body language than any explicit sentiments, as opposed to a North American movies’ typically forthright sensibilities.

Mademoiselle Chambon awaits destiny or..?

Neither of them is any more “at fault” for their attractions than the other; Jean pursues Ms. Chambon with as much interest as she does him. Ultimately Jean decides how and where their infatuation will go. That decision harkens to Richard Linklater’s mature 20-something romance, Before Sunrise, from 1991, where the défacto duo seriously asks each other whether they want to make love. Shall we do this when we’ll probably want more, and we have no idea if we’ll see each other after?

One more (ok, a few) open question: Each wants the other; each has found something that they lack in that other.  Why is this story Mademoiselle Chambon’s; Why is it named for her?  Won’t their wanderlust reap or wreak the most upon Jean and his family?

If we’re scoring this, 3.5 to 4, out of 5.

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