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Film: An Ordinary Execution
Year of production: 2010
UK Release date: 4th July 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 15
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Marc Dugain
Starring: André Dussollier, Marina Hands, Edouard Baer, Denis Podalydès, Tom Novembre
Genre: Drama/History
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French
Review by: Patrick Gamble
Ripped straight from the pages of his own 2007 novel, director Marc Dugain has created an ambitious, slow burning and incredibly uncomfortable portrait of life under state control in Joseph Stalin’s Russia.
Anna (Marina Hands) and her physicist husband, Vassilli (Edouard Baer) are trying desperately to conceive. However, whilst home life may be filled with the constant throws of marital passion, most of Anna’s time is consumed by her contrastingly distressing role within the local hospital. During a time when Jewish doctors were being forcibly expelled and seemingly innocent people disappearing without a word, tensions are at an all time high. With the accompanying paranoia leading to a less than happy work environment, Anna’s life couldn’t be any more fraught with fear and danger.
Anna’s beautiful appearance and popularity with the local patients (due to the rumoured healing aura which radiates from her hands) has made her the chosen target of this unrelenting mist of hatred which now consumes the infirmary’s corridors. One day, to her terror, two officers dressed in dark overcoats come looking for her at the surgery and insist she accompanies them.
However, the car transporting Anna drives past the renowned Moscow interrogation centre and she soon finds herself in a dimly lit, ominously empty waiting room inside the Kremlin. After hours of patiently waiting, it becomes apparent she is here to see Stalin. The renowned dictator offers her a position she neither wants nor can refuse. It’s an incredibly secretive position which involves working closely with the fascist Soviet oppressor and, much to her dismay, means having to reject her old life - including the husband she loves dearly - in a vain attempt to save not just him but her whole family from certain death…
This intoxicating chamber piece manages to create an atmosphere of fear and impending misery through dialogue and framing alone, in what is truly an accomplished piece of drama with strong overtones of historical importance neatly presented on a bed of highly original fiction.
By creating a fictitious world for his events to unfold, director and writer Marc Dugain has managed to avoid the usual constraints which normally surround historical epics, leaving him with free reign to present his story without having to succumb to the rigorous facts and recorded truths of the history books. An unyieldingly strict approach can often hinder the enjoyment for those viewers unwilling to accept such a strong factual focus in lieu of any added erroneousness strands otherwise injected to titillate whilst driving the narrative forward. Anyone with even the remotest knowledge of Russian history is aware of the monstrous events which Stalin implemented, so having such a well established villain as the central antagonist means the script can forgo the usual time consuming and arduous task of back-story building, an element of storytelling which can often be detrimental to the overall enjoyment of a film. Instead our focus is strongly set on Anna, allowing us plenty of insight into this deeply tormented woman’s life, which only enhances the extent of her emotionally exhausting journey.
Tremendously shot through a plethora of drained lifeless colours, and against a backdrop of shadows, the film’s cinematograph perfectly reflects the atmosphere during this desolate time of oppression and anxiety. The sympathetic use of framing perfectly captures the mood which encases the film’s two central characters, allowing the actors to fully explore their roles and thus creating a set of enormously accomplished performances which ultimately carry the film.
Marina Hands is utterly mesmerising. Without having to say a word, she manages to convey a wide range of emotions through subtle use of body language alone. Her expressive face could convey even the darkest of burdens with relative ease and is relied upon numerous times throughout this slow but thoughtful film. However, it’s Andre Dussolier in the role of the repugnant dictator who steals the show with his colossal on screen presence. Seeming like the devil in a trench coat, Dussolier radiates a sinister demeanour that sends an instant chill through your bones the moment he appears. The few attempts at humour injected into this fierce leader’s lines come across with an uncomfortable tone that’ll you’ll find yourself laughing at, not through genuine amusement but an uncomfortable mix of fear and duty. Such a role could easily have fallen into pantomime villainy, yet instead manages to convey the human side behind the truly malevolent actions of one of the 20th century’s most predominant figures.
However, a gripping script and strong performances cannot carry a film alone. And whilst moments like Dussolier reading direct Stalin quotes, such as “The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of a million is a statistic,” is undoubtedly powerful stuff, An Ordinary Execution does suffer from some weak direction. It’s clear that Dugain’s strength lies in his wonderful ability to write genuinely immersive dialogue, but the film itself has seemingly been created using very formulaic and workmen like techniques, with none of the flare shown in the script being translated visually. As flaws go, it’s hardly the most damning of criticisms; however, it does prevent the film from transcending the genre of period drama into something more necessary, ultimately leaving it in the no man’s land between high concept television and engrossing cinema.
For the two central performances alone, An Ordinary Execution should be classed as a must watch, with both leads pulling off incredibly moving and intense portrayals that cry out for greater recognition. Unfortunately, as a complete film, An Ordinary Execution fails to make the most of it impressive acting talent and immaculately crafted script, which sadly feels like a disappointing conclusion to an otherwise enthralling exploration into this dark period of history.
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Based on his own hugely successful novel of the same name, Marc Dugain’s debut feature, An Ordinary Execution, is an encounter between the aging Joseph Stalin (Andre Dussolier) and a young doctor, Anna.
Anna (Marina Hands), who has extraordinary healing powers, is brought in to treat the escalating physical woes of the dictator’s old age, after his own doctor has been “purged.” Seen entirely through Anna’s eyes, he lays bare his philosophy of terror - rambling, plotting, and intimidating.
Ingeniously shot to reflect the grimness of oppression, and filled with tension and mystery,
An Ordinary Execution is a compelling examination of the police state, and a piercing insight into the mind of the last days of a dictator.
Film: An Ordinary Execution
Release date: 26th November 2010
Certificate: 12A
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Marc Dugain
Starring: André Dussollier, Marina Hands, Edouard Baer, Denis Podalydès, Tom Novembre
Genre: Drama
Studio: Arrow
Format: Cinema
Country: France
Film: Tell No One
Release date: 15th October 2007
Certificate: 15
Running time: 126 mins
Director: Guillaume Canet
Starring: Marie-Josee Croze, Nathalie Baye, Andre Dussollier, Jean Rochefort, Kristin Scott Thomas
Genre: Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Revolver
Format: DVD
Country: France
A sensation in its native France, Tell No One went on to capture a lot of attention around the continent. Based on the novel by American writer Harlan Cobern, this really is the rarest thing: a French film of American origin. Guillaume Canet directs and scribes a mystery that promises enough twists and turns to leave you dizzy. Nothing is what it seems.
Lifelong sweethearts Alexandre and Margot Beck take a midnight skinny dip at their favourite childhood lake. Sat in the moon light on a duck in the middle of the lake, they begin to squabble, and Margot swims back to land alone. Still in the lake, Alexandre hears Margot’s screams in the distance, and desperately swims back to her rescue. However, back on land, Margot is nowhere to be seen, and Alexandre is knocked unconscious.
The narrative picks up eight years later, with Alex still coming to terms with the murder of his wife. Himself a former suspect in the case, he works as a paediatrician haunted by his loss at the hands of a serial killer. He goes through the motions of his tender life until he begins to receive cryptic e-mails that suggest Margot is very much alive.
Alexandre goes in search of the truth - he is determined to expose an ominous cover-up, and desperate to once again see the face of his beloved Margot. Along the way, he encounters new allies, possible infidelities, and one of the most gripping chase scenes in modern cinema. He is wanted by police and criminals alike, but he will do whatever it takes...
The American feel of this movie goes deeper than just its source material, and young director Guillaume Canet’s Hollywood influences are clear. French audiences clearly found this reverse globalisation refreshing as the film swept the Cesar awards in 2006; however, Tell No One holds both the good and the bad of Hollywood.
The good comes in the shape of leading man Francoise Cluzet. The similarities with Dustin Hoffman do not stop with his striking physical resemblance. Cluzet plays the part of Alex with a determination and devotion that will have you feeling his pain and fighting in his corner. He is emotionally blank when we see him eight years after the loss of his wife, but still conscientious as a doctor - thoughtful and shyly humorous. His likeability makes his emotional fragility all the more heartfelt – at any moment ready to burst into tears or fly off in rage. Canet really does run him ragged, and not just emotionally - Hoffman similarities are seen as Alexandre jumps out of windows and sprints across busy highways, recalling the likes of Marathon Man.
French film fans expecting a talky melodrama will be surprised by the action-packed nature and frenetic pace, which Canet directs with assuring confidence. The non-stop action, constant flow of incident and new possibilities do come at an exhausting rate. This is truly a thrill ride from start to finish, and installs a desperation not just in its protagonist but its audience, too - you will be forgiven for feeling like you may have missed something. As frustrating as this can be, it is hard is give up on the drive of the story.
Alex’s quest is valiant and worthy of your attention, but he does meet a fair few stale points on his journey. Despite a beautifully French-speaking part for English star Kristen Scott Thomas, and not a wooden performance in sight, we encounter a lot of standard American character types along the way. In particular, Alexandre’s unlikely alliance with gangster Bruno conjures images of a role for a rapper like 50 Cent or X-Zibet when the American remake comes about, plus there is an all too familiar mix of maverick cops and hard talking lawyers.
It is a shame, also, that the mystery of the story is explained at the end through one character’s confession. With all the red herrings and plot holes it leaves untouched, you could be left wanting a more natural uncovering of the truth. This, however, is saved both by our relief at finally being able to put to bed a head spinning mystery.
The joy of this film stems from a representation of adult love that is consistently believable and worthy of a fight. The onscreen chemistry of Alexandre and Margot shows a love and wanting that is truly incessant - Marie-Josée Croze’s angelic face holds all the pain of a shattered life. Even a soundtrack including Jeff Buckley and U2 sets a longing that elsewhere could be too sugar sweet and obvious.
This thriller provides both viscerally and emotionally. On the surface: bundles of action and adventure in chic Paris, below: a moving love story. Guillaume Canet shows why he is so highly regarded in his home country with his portrayal of lost love, betrayal and human triumph. Americanised misgivings do not stop this being a definite one to watch. LW
Film: Wild Grass
Release date: 8th November 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Alain Resnais
Starring: Sabine Azéma, André Dussollier, Anne Consigny, Mathieu Amalric
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: New Wave
Format: DVD
Country: France/Italy
As Alain Resnais ages so do his regular cast members. Here, Sabine Azéma and Andre Dussollier reprise their familiar roles in the most recent of the octogenarian filmmaker’s offbeat romances. Based on Christian Gailly's novel L'Incident, the film focuses on the aftermath of a seemingly innocuous incident.
While shopping in Paris, Marguerite Muir (Azéma) has her handbag snatched by a rollerblading mugger. Georges Palet (Dussollier) subsequently finds her discarded purse and develops an inexplicably intense interest in her photographic ID and pilot’s licence. This leads to a series of one-sided phone calls and letters – straightforward but motiveless stalking, to all intents and purposes.
George’s intentions are never fully (or even partially explained), and there is something disconcertingly sinister about his obsession with the frizzy haired Marguerite – not least when he slashes her car tyres. Perhaps even more difficult to understand is why Marguerite suddenly becomes interested in her pursuer...
It’s an oddity of a film, even by Resnais’ opaque standards. The voiceover which narrates proceedings is lifted directly from the novel upon which the movie is based and is faithful to the original text, yet it reveals very little and poses more questions than it answers.
The character of Georges is deliberately mysterious – hardly an original concept – yet he is so enigmatic as to be frustrating. Occasional glimpses of murderous intent and his suspicion of those in uniform and their reciprocal distaste for him hint at a criminal past. But equally he could just be a bored fantasist with a runaway imagination. Refusing to divulge this information gives the film an ambiguity which makes it difficult to invest much in its central character – a flaw which could have been remedied if Marguerite was fleshed out more fully.
The stalked female lead is played with familiar skittishness by Azéma in a style well-known to those who’ve seen her previous performances in Resnais’ films. Sadly, the sketchy characterisation and baffling interest in her middle-aged pursuer make it difficult to warm to her. Even her kookily frizzy red hair seems like an affectation too far.
Despite the character flaws, it’s a stylish piece of work. The whimsical opening as Marguerite shops for shoes is wonderfully shot, with her face never revealed (just that hair!) even as she sees her handbag waving in the wind as it is snatched. It’s a stunning camera shot – a justifiable use of slow-motion and vividly contrasting colours.
Indeed, the film is full of colour, from Marguerite’s neon-lit apartment and gaudy yellow car to George’s lush green grass. The sets are as lavish as the characters are sparse and often shot in pastel-hued soft focus – even the turquoise desk at police HQ disappears into the fuzzy distance as Marguerite inquires after her pursuer.
Georges’ lawn is not the only grass which features in the film. Opening with tufts of greenery pointing through a cracked footpath, the action is interspersed with images of wild grass throughout. It’s difficult to say which of these represents Georges most accurately – does his well tended garden hint at the order he craves whilst being tempted to the wilder side of the untamed wild grass? Or has he arrived at order in his home life having eschewed the ‘wild’ side. Again, the movie’s ambiguity prevents an easy answer being reached.
If anything the film becomes less linear as it reaches its conclusion. Scenes which are presumably hypothetical are played out in the imaginations of the characters – these scenes within scenes occur in ‘thought bubbles’ which recall Resnais’ earlier film I Want To Go Home. A confusingly edited scene between Georges and two policemen descends into incomprehensibility as lines are repeated, and unusual cuts and zooms are employed to destroy any sense of conversation or convention.
The ending of the film is unsatisfying, but predictably so. After posing so many unanswered questions during the course of Wild Grass there was no way Resnais would cap it off with a conventional climax.
Wild Grass is lovely to look at but difficult to love. Resnais can be infuriatingly flippant, and here his stylistic quirks and tricks are not strong enough to carry the interest of the viewer from start to finish. A film requires characters and/or a plot strong enough to sustain the audience’s interest. Here, Resnais provides neither, and, as such, the film is a triumph of style over substance. RW
Film: Wild Grass
Release date: 18th June 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Alain Resnais
Starring: Sabine Azéma, André Dussollier, Anne Consigny, Mathieu Amalric
Genre: Drama
Studio: New Wave
Format: Cinema
Country: France/Italy
When two paths cross, lives entwine in a collision of unlikely, unexpected and fantastic new relationships. New Wave veteran Alain Resnais reveals an internal world of fanciful fairytale rationalised by reality in his adaptation of Christian Gailly’s L’incident.
Opening in a chic Parisian shopping centre, the viewer is introduced to Marguerite Muir (Azéma) - that is, introduced to her flaming bush of scarlet frizz, for she remains faceless for over six minutes as cinematographer Eric Gautier places the viewer in the midst of the city with voyeuristic shots. Content with her latest splurge, the camera follows Muir as she leaves her favourite shoe shop, but her joy is short lived when her bag is snatched by a petty thief.
This is when Georges Palet (played by Resnais regular Dussollier) enters the film. He stumbles upon her discarded wallet and sets the entire film in motion. Thanks to Muir’s pilot’s licence, Palet finds himself equipped with her phone number and address, and spends days contemplating whether to spice up his middle-class life by making contact with the stranger.
As he debates his course of action, the viewer is left to ponder his true colours and underlying motive - Palet’s voice over candidly admits to intentions that are less than savoury, creating something of an ongoing theme that is never fully explained, explored or even justified. Eventually the amateur detective leaves his mission to the professionals, and hands his discovery in to the police.
On retrieving her purse from the police station, Muir asks after its rescuer, and obtains Palet’s phone number. She politely calls him to thank him for his efforts, unwittingly provoking his fixation. The awkward conversation that proceeds sets the tone for the next chunk of the film, whereby Palet’s pursuit increases in intensity, resulting in him visiting her home, leaving letters in her post box and even slashing her tyres. In one of the film’s rare pinches of logic, Muir seeks advice from the law - but refrains from pressing charges. However, Palet’s attention is gradually igniting a spark of interest within her, and the stalker is in danger of becoming the stalked…
Resnais complains that the majority of filmmakers claim that their calling lies in revealing reality through film, adding that his sentiments therefore sway towards contradicting that trend. This may account for his obscure deviations from the main story, which is left as a frayed piece of rope with no tie to bring the loose ends together. For example, as Palet and Muir’s remote relationship draws them ever closer, Resnais and Gailly happily fulfil the inevitable prospect of having the characters meet in person. During the build up to this guiltily satisfying scene, the viewer is invited into their private lives; friends and family are introduced to the audience and each other - mingling across the Muir-Palet border.
On the other hand, the voiceovers that divulge the characters’ thoughts, although rather surreal and invalid in the context of the plot, indicate exactly what Resnais intends to avoid - reality; that is, real characters with real thoughts. Who hasn’t mulled over sinister fantasies when aggravated? That doesn’t make anyone a murderer, yet in the cinematic world, audiences have been conditioned to expect an extensive back-story to justify such an event. Resnais has escaped this anticipation, where he readily conforms in other scenes. These telling voiceovers make you unsure of the characters with Palet, in particular, having hints of schizophrenic tendencies - on occasion, the viewer is left to wonder whether he can actually distinguish between reality and fantasy.
Wild Grass is a stylised film, with Gautier’s presence shaping the entire film. Where voiceovers fail to convey the exact speculations of characters, hypothetical scenes are played out onscreen as thought bubbles laid over shots of the ‘real’ world. To add to that air of ambiguous uncertainty, they are often lived out several times, edited and then replayed, in an effective visual representation of a universal, if subconscious, mental process. Gautier’s eye for composition is often flaunted, with perfectly poised shots that see characters framed in such a way as to reinforce the voyeuristic values that penetrate the film. Use of colour is striking, at no point more so than when Muir drives through the nocturnal roads of Paris, her face reflecting the flickering neon lights that drench the deserted streets.
Wild Grass is a simple film made to appear much more complex than it really is. The peculiar characters, with their enigmatic backgrounds and sometimes surprising relationships, help dress the piece in robes of depth, but Resnais’s recent bias towards the light-hearted side of film is nonetheless prominent in his most recent effort. For all its eccentricity, the story is thin and flimsy, characters are somewhat frustrating and difficult to empathise with, and the plot digressions are meaningless.
Bizarrely, the climactic scene between the two protagonists, which is another trap that manages to surprise precisely because of its predictability, is not the climax of the film.
As aesthetically pleasing as Wild Grass may be, Resnais’s priorities seem to lie simply in contradicting, bluffing and double-bluffing audience anticipation. Rather than making a film of substance that tells a story, confusion seems to be Resnais’ sole motivation. RS
Film: Micmacs
Release date: 21st June 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 101 mins
Director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet
Starring: Dany Boon, Andre Dussollier, Nicolas Marie, Jean Pierre Marielle, Yolande Moreau
Genre: Comedy/Crime/Action/Romance
Studio: E1
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: France
With Amelie and Delicatessen now widely regarded as classics in film comedy, and world cinema in general, the big question ahead of Micmacs’s much-hyped release was if it could possibly live up to now bloated expectations of the director.
The story starts with a roadside bomb fatality. The unfortunate’s son, Bazil (Dany Boon), grows up without his father, but he’s found some contentment working in a video shop. Now, over thirty years since his father’s demise, Bazil survives a random bullet to the head that is too risky for doctors to remove. After learning he must live with this precarious bullet, which may take away his life at any moment, his time in recovery causes him to lose his apartment and his job. A man now with nothing left to lose, he steals his hat back from a child and goes on his way, using his cunning and schemes to survive on the streets.
A chance meeting with Placard (Marielle) leads Bazil to a salvage yard and a group of misfits he comes to know as his ‘family’. The oddball group are experts in salvage and repair, all of them sharing some sort of bizarre physical intimacy with metalwork in their bodies. Seeing him as one of their own, they are ready to help Bazil exact playful but meticulous revenge on the two people who’ve wronged him in his life - the makers of his father’s fatal roadside bomb, and the makers of the bullet still lodged in his head…
This film, coming from the hands of Jean-Pierre Jeunet, is, of course, a wonderfully theatrical piece of storytelling. An unconventional opening to a comedy with a roadside bomb fatality maybe, but it sets the tone, and leads the way for a whole plethora of characteristically quirky moments from Jeunet. These are woven together through the revenge narrative that highlights the contrastingly stern subject matter of the arms trade. Of course, it’s these quirks that scream of Jeunet’s style; Bazil sucking salad cream from the sachet, an amorous couple exploding on a land mine, and even the credit sequence seamlessly entwined with a film within the film.
The family are full of idiosyncrasies, mirroring their home of collected damaged household items, with their talent and teamwork bringing them back to life. Hilarious and subtle performances from many of the family, notably Dominique Pinon as Fracasse - a hot-headed human cannonball, always at home in a Jeunet film - and Marie-Julie Baup (the talents of Calculette being instant visual calculation of size, weight or distance – this will prove very useful as the revenge scheme is put into practice).
The relationship between Bazil and La Môme Caoutchouc, the contortionist of the group, brought some touches of sentiment to the story – but it wasn’t weighted or explored significantly enough to have the right balance. Bazil could have fallen with more gusto, and given him more to risk. The family were literally shooting themselves out of cannons for him, and if Bazil had become more emotionally involved, it would have upped the ante. Despite this, a bright spark leaps from the screen the moment Bazil bursts into song down the chimney to where the contortionist is putting her skills to use in the villain’s domain. It was a surprisingly sweet moment.
Fortunately, an underdeveloped romantic subplot doesn’t tarnish the experience. Each frame is measured and absolutely makes the most of the production design, from the sweeping shots of landmine-scattered landscapes to the intimate points of view moments. The salvage heap, home to the family of oddballs, lays host to some genius mechanics and design, and all married by perfect grading.
Perhaps this detail is overwhelming, and that Jeunet’s almost obsessive attention to detail is unnecessarily OTT, but this an intentionally theatrical experience.
Transporting you to a bizarre world, this funny and intricate story is what Jean-Pierre Jeunet does best – even if it doesn’t quite reach the dizzy hits of Delicatessen or Amelie. VB
