Tag: louis garrel

A Burning Hot Summer


A Burning Hot Summer (2011)
★ / ★★★★

Frédéric (Louis Garrel) crashes his car into a tree on purpose for reasons unknown other than he appears dejected as he speeds through a zig-zag road in the middle of the night. More than a year prior to his suicide attempt, Frédéric is happily married to Angèle (Monica Bellucci), an actress on the verge of receiving her big break. The couple rents a posh apartment in Rome and thinks it would be nice to have Paul (Jérôme Robart) and his girlfriend, Élisabeth (Céline Sallette), both aspiring thespians, stay with them for a couple of weeks. Enamored with such a lavish lifestyle that seems free of earthly worries, Paul quickly grows attached to Frédéric.

Written by Marc Cholodenko, Caroline Deruas-Garrel, and Philippe Garrel, although something seems to be brewing just beneath the topsoil of “Un été brûlant,” it is disappointingly anemic in dramatic surges required in order to give the feeling that the time invested by its audience toward the characters’ differing levels of lamentation is worthwhile.

The narration is partly to blame because it is used as tool, almost as a crutch, to tell what is happening during a scene right in front of us. Worse, at times it informs us of what is going to happen instead of simply giving us a scene, allowing it to unfold, and trusting us to evaluate the reality, including the emotions behind them, contained in its universe. This is a critical misstep because most effective relationship dramas tend to flourish in showing both important and unimportant events in the lives of the people we are supposed to observe. As a result, the film is consistently confusing and the bond between the characters and us is tenuous at best, if any.

Imagine being a math teacher and you give a student a multi-step equation to solve. On the paper that is handed back, although an answer is present, it is incorrect. No work is shown. As an instructor, it is impossible to determine where exactly the student went wrong. The same principle can be applied to this story because, in a way, we are supposed to look closely and gather clues as to how Frédéric and Angèle’s relationship goes sour. We are handed clichés like a person being involved in an extramarital affair but the emotions behind their actions hold very little weight so it takes a great deal of effort to care for them.

I got the impression that the film, like the student, is guessing blindly, reaching in the dark for the pieces of a shattered relationship. The apparent lack of control prevents the picture from becoming more than a mild curiosity. For instance, under Philippe Garrel’s direction, Paul being attracted to Frédéric’s lifestyle of wealth and privilege should feel more vibrant, almost desperate, reflecting Paul’s need to be around his new friend during his stay. There are moments when I speculated about Paul in terms of which element he is really attracted to: the luxury or the man who seems to have it all? Because of the tired and perfunctory distractions in the plot, by the end it can be either way.

“A Burning Hot Summer” fails to focus on envy and jealousy being the driving forces of its subjects. Its tone is so stale at times that I wondered if the camera was simply recording between takes.

Jealousy


Jealousy (2013)
★ / ★★★★

Louis (Louis Garrel) tells Clothilde (Rebecca Convenant) that he will be leaving her for Claudia (Anna Mouglalis), a stage actress with a lot of talent. Clothilde is devastated by the announcement especially since the two of them have a little girl. Meanwhile, Claudia becomes increasingly unhappy because she cannot seem to snag a role despite her best efforts. This puts a strain on her relationship with Louis, the man who used to give her so much joy and excitement.

Directed by Philippe Garrel, “La jalousie” is tonally flat, shot in black-and-white, and has an unconventional, at times inaccessible, story arc. What results is a boring, soporific movie that feels more than two hours long despite the fact that it is barely an hour and fifteen minutes. For the most part, the picture comes across unripe and underwritten, its dramatic occurrences more histrionic and vapid than genuine or truly worthy of our time to try and understand what makes each person tick.

The screenplay by Marc Cholodenko and Caroline Deruas-Garrel fails to discern between the two women in Louis’ life. Since we do not completely understand why Louis decided to leave Clothilde or why Claudia is special to Louis outside of her talent as a performer, the women function more like coat hangers rather than real people with real thoughts and feelings, to be displayed only whenever the camera needs to fill up space. I guess credit should be given for not taking the most obvious route: making one highly detestable and the other completely lovable.

The adult characters are moody, hollow shells. The material only truly comes alive whenever Louis and Clotilde’s daughter is on screen. She is lively, the tone of her voice changes, there is a certain presence in her eyes. Claudia, Clothilde, and Louis come across whiny, privileged people with no big problem that is worthy of their feelings of depression. I was amused when, at one point, Claudia considers taking on a job outside of theater. She and Louis act as though this decision is tantamount to facing the end of the world. A side job? How gauche!

“Jealousy” lacks soul which is problematic because we are supposed to empathize with its characters even though we may not necessarily agree with their actions. The malaise is laid pretty thick and it is most disappointing that the writing fails to mold such emotion into something that is complex and constantly evolving. Drama is rooted in highs and lows. This picture offers only lows and so we wonder why we should care what is eventually going to happen.

The Dreamers


The Dreamers (2003)
★★★★ / ★★★★

The first time I saw a movie at the Cinémathèque Française I thought, “Only the French… Only the French would house a cinema inside a palace.” The movie was Sam Fuller’s “Shock Corridor.” Its images were so powerful, it was like being hypnotized. I was 20 years old. It was the late ‘60s and I’d come to Paris for a year to study French.

But it was here that I got my real education. I became a member of what in those days was kind of a free masonry. A free masonry of cinephiles… what we’d call “film buffs.” I was one of the insatiables… the ones you’d always find sitting closest to the screen.

Why do we sit so close? Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first, when they were still new, still fresh, before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us, before they’d been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator until worn-out, secondhand, the size of a postage stamp it returned to the projectionist’s cabin. Maybe, too, the screen really was a screen. It screened us… from the world.

And so it began, my love for films, during the summer just after junior year of high school had come to a welcome close. Bernardo Bertolocci’s “The Dreamers” was a like a thunder shock to my spine that upon seeing it, I sat on the couch, silent and still, Edith Piaf’s “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” playing as the end credits started to creep down, convinced that I had not seen anything like it—and I wanted more. Right then I knew that I had just seen a film that I would carry with me so long as I lived.

The opening credits makes known that it is going to be a physical picture. As names appear on the screen, the background demands that we admire the infrastructure of the Eiffel Tower, the metallic support mostly in black while others are, curiously, in red. The color red usually represents passion and violence. There is violence in the film but it isn’t until the very end. For the most part, it focuses on several kinds of passion, physical and intimate, among three cinephiles—an American from sunny California and two French fraternal twins.

Its physicality is not only defined in terms of sex, nudity, and carnality. It is reflected in how Matthew (Michael Pitt) wears his suits and hair, how Isabelle (Eva Green) finds it a challenge to exist on her own for very long when her brother is not only an arm’s length away, how the posture of Theo (Louis Garrel) is blasé every time his father, a published and successful poet, speaks at the dinner table and yet Theo’s eyes are sharp, just waiting to pick out a ripe moment of hypocrisy. Matthew notices how the length, width, and depth of Isabelle’s cigarette lighter tends to fit in any of the patterns of a table cloth.

One of the picture’s themes is its depiction of Matthew, Isabelle, and Theo as children—that although they talk of politics, they remain cocooned. The trio runs through the Louvre Museum in an attempt to beat the record set by the characters in Jean-Luc Godard’s “Bande à part.” Isabelle refers to the American as “my little Matthew” as if she were his big sister. They explore one another’s bodies up close and afar. Notice the innocent appearance of Isabelle’s room. A fort is built in the salon. Listen closely as to how Theo and Matthew try to persuade one another of the merits of either Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin.

Like children, they even play games. When inspiration erupts, either Theo or Isabelle reenact a specific scene in a movie. The other two must try to guess the film. Failure to do so will result in a punishment. And like children, punishments must involve a level of humiliation. Matthew finds the game sadistic and is repelled by it initially. But Isabelle and Theo’s friendship is one he yearns for. He feels as though he has found his soulmate. Only there happens to be two of them. Their relationships are subtle, elegant, and complex.

But all games must come to an end eventually. The film mostly taking place inside an apartment, we see glimpses of the reality—a revolution taking shape—on television, by looking at a massive pile of rubbish in the streets, and observing protestors marching outside. There are blockades and behind them are police. There is a beautiful scene where Matthew takes out Isabelle on a date. It is the only moment in the film that comes closest to a typical love story but it is most welcome because it is earned. It is a glimpse of a future they might have had if they were born and had met a decade before or after. But, alas, it is May 1968.

Based on the screenplay and novel by Gilbert Adair, “The Dreamers” is beautifully photographed, each location—whether it be a room, a restaurant, or a movie theater—is vivid in detail, and wonderfully—and bravely—performed by the three leads. Some viewers may look and dismiss it to be pornographic because of the amount of flesh shown on screen. But others may look and recognize a story of awakening. In a number of ways, it had awoken me.

In retrospect, if it weren’t for this film, I probably would not have been inspired—and continuing to be inspired—to watch whatever movie I could get my hands on. Though my pursuit of knowledge is in science, it is likely that tough times would have gotten the best of me if the movies had not been there constantly to provide a delicate balance between reality and dreams.

In Paris


In Paris (2006)
★★ / ★★★★

There’s a lot of complex dynamics between the characters in this film but most of them were not explored enough. The best scenes were when the two brothers, Romain Duris and Louis Garrel, would talk to each other about women, the value of life and their childhood. I also found the father (Guy Marchand) interesting but he wasn’t given much to do except hover in the background like some sort of annoyance for the two leads. Duris returns home after a bad break-up and stays in bed all day. Garrel tries to find ways to alleviate his brother’s depression by–strangely enough–sleeping with other women. That statement doesn’t make sense but after seeing the entire picture, in a strange way, it does have some hidden meaning. I wouldn’t have gotten it either if Garrel’s character didn’t literally voice it out to his brother in the final scene. Still, this film is very uneven. In the beginning, Garrel talks to the camera and he claims that he’s going to be the narrator. As the film went on, that narration was completely thrown out the window. It would’ve been wiser if Christophe Honoré, the director, was more consistent about the narration because the film got a little confusing at times. One minute we’re looking at something that happened a week ago and the next we’re looking at something that happened a few months ago. The fact that this film is in French (I have no problem with that; I love foreign films) is another issue because there were some dialogues that do not directly correlate with the subtitles. (I know a little bit of French.) Given that handicap, jumping from one moment in time to another makes it that much less accessible. I liked that this film referenced other great filmmakers from the likes Jean-Luc Godard (scenes outside the home) and Bernardo Bertolucci (scenes in the home). Plus, that one scene when Garrel was looking at movie posters of “Last Days” and “A History of Violence” made me laugh due to the fact that Garrel looked at Michael Pitt’s picture with a certain recognition. (They worked together in one of my favorite films “The Dreamers.”) Little tidbits like that made me enjoy this movie despite my frustrations with its techniques. This is definitely not for everyone but if you’re the kind of person that likes to see movies which honor certain signatures of other great filmmakers, check this one out. (I still say it should have been more character-driven…)

Love Songs


Love Songs (2007)
★★★ / ★★★★

Although the ending is abrupt, it impressed me because of its implications. Deceptively simple on the outside, this French film has something to say about young love/lust and it is executed in just the right way without being too heavy-handed with its messages. Even though the template of the picture is the three-way romantic relationship between Louis Garrel, Ludivine Sagnier, and Clotilde Hesme, I thought the relationship between Garrel and Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet–how Leprince-Ringuet brought Garrel back to life, more aware than ever, after a certain tragedy was the best part of the film. I love how this movie uses musical numbers when a certain character cannot put his or her thoughts into the right words. It’s true to life because relationships (romantic or otherwise) get complex and sometimes we can’t say what we want to say in order for others to understand our point of view. It’s very honest and the singing voices reflected that honesty–the actors actually sang without attempting to make the voices polished or grand (like in most American musicals). Written and directed by Christophe Honoré, one can tell that this movie had a low budget but that doesn’t stop it from trying to achieve something great. The only quibble I have with “Les Chansons d’amour” (“Love Songs”) is it didn’t explore Garrel’s relationship with Leprince-Ringuet enough. They are really opposite and it would’ve been beneficial if they had a little more conflict while at the same time learning from each other.