Film: Back To Normandy Year of production: 2007 UK Release date: 27th June 2011 Distributor: Artificial Eye Certificate: 15 Running time: 113 mins Director: Nicolas Philibert Genre: Documentary Format: DVD Country of Production: France Language: French
Review by: Gordon James Knox
Released as part of The Nicolas Philibert Collection. In 2002, Être Et Avoir, Nicolas Philibert’s documentary about a provincial infant school and its kindly schoolmaster, won the hearts of film lovers worldwide. In Back To Normandy, the director returns to rural France with a film-about-a film-about a 19th century court case that could not be more different. More than thirty years ago, Philibert began his career as an assistant director on Moi, Pierre Rivière, Rene Allio’s 1976 film based on the 1835 memoir of a Normandy farmer’s son, Pierre Riviere, who wrote it in his prison cell while condemned to death for the brutal murder of his mother, sister and brother with a billhook.
Allio chose to shoot his film very close to the location where the murders occurred and cast farmers and other non-actors in the major roles. At the time, Philbert was tasked with finding locals to fill the parts, and for Back To Normandy, he tracks them down again to see how it changed their lives.
Interspersed with interviews with some of the original cast members are shots of key locations used in Moi, Pierre Rivière and other locations relating to the historical case itself. Back To Normandy is a cine-essay which (very gently) touches upon themes of history and modernity, community and society, and the art of filmmaking itself…
The full title of Allio’s film translates as “I, Pierre Rivière, having slaughtered my mother, my sister and my brother…” This was the opening line of the killer’s jailhouse confession, the manuscript of which was rediscovered in the early 1970s by a team of scholars under the direction of the philosopher and intellectual historian Michel Foucault. Where some may have dismissed the tale as merely a footnote to an inexplicable crime, Foucalt argued that Rivière’s singular account (all the more remarkable for having been produced by a peasant with only basic schooling) revealed crucial insights into the development of modern judiciary and its relation to mental illness. As Rivière’s case was the first to use psychiatric testimony, it offered an unparalleled guide to the way medical scrutiny was being married to judicial control. Not only did the case appeal to Foucault’s longstanding interest in those power structures which underpin society, but it also posed a radical challenge to our ideas about the Enlightenment itself, since language and writing are usually considered the prerogative of the rational and law-abiding. In collaboration with Foucault, Allio dramatised the events in a brilliant and unsettling film, which received almost unanimous critical acclaim when it was first released and yet remains largely unseen by modern audiences.
Some of the ideas found in that film are revisited in Back To Normandy; but in a very indirect way. The first half of the film consists mainly of interviews with the amateur actors as they reminisce about their experience working on the film. What eventually becomes clear is that the filming of Moi, Pierre Rivière didn’t have that much of an impact on their lives at all. Most of them fondly remembered the film crew sweeping into the area and offering them a singular experience, but when the cameras left, life more or less returned to normal.
Jacqueline Millière, frighteningly believable as the tormenting Rivière matriarch, speaks of some initial wariness on the part of people who recognised her on the street shortly after the film’s original release, but that soon went away. The merry Borel family considers its patriarch’s thespian adventure a source of hilarity. Even the enigmatic Claude Hébert, who played Pierre to great acclaim and seemed destined for a glittering onscreen career, would go on to lead a life far removed from the world of cinema. Everyday life, though, went on, and the stories of heartbreak and quiet tragedy revealed in some of the interviews gives us a rare glimpse into the life beyond, no less dramatic for occurring away from the eye of the camera lens.
Tentatively, Philibert does begin to work in parallels and connections between his documentary and Moi, Pierre, as well as the era in which the story was set. In one particularly gruesome scene, we are shown how the slaughter of a pig is carried out in much the same way as it would have in the 19th century. Charles and Annie Lihou speak movingly of the impact of their daughter’s schizophrenia on the rest of the family. Annick Bisson — who, as a 16-year-old, played the luckier of the killer’s two sisters — now works with mentally handicapped adults. The Enlightenment idea of rational progress, the philosophical background to the Pierre Rivière case, is echoed in oblique references to the seemingly unstoppable march of modernity - shots of farm machinery, an organised protest against plans to turn a nearby area into a nuclear waste dump. Even the process of filmmaking isn’t immune – in one scene, we learn that the film-printing studio Allio set up is in financial difficulties and is set to cease production, a victim of the digital revolution. At times, a bittersweet sense of nostalgia emerges, as well as a kind of sadness for the way things change - sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. In spite of Philibert’s highly objective and oblique approach (sometimes exasperatingly so), this is a deeply felt film.
Back To Normandy closes with a scene which reveals just how much personal import the film has for its director. Philibert’s father had been cast in a small role in Moi, Pierre Rivière, but sadly his scene never made the final cut. Thirty years later, Philibert has tracked down the cut print, sans audio, and it is with this footage the film closes. Presumably now departed, the old man addresses the camera in the role of a court official, and though we cannot hear the words he speaks, the image still contains the power to speak to us in some strange, indefinable way. The scene seems to acknowledges that film can only ever be an approximation of life, and though it can never wholly capture the complexities of living itself, it is capable of a poignancy in spite of, or perhaps precisely because, of its limitations. It’s an unexpectedly moving finale to a film which doesn’t always fully connect, but when it does Back To Normandy achieves a quite singular profundity.
Back To Normandy is a deeply personal film about an experience which was fundamental in forming Philibert’s artistic identity. Although it never suffers from artistic self-indulgence, it may be a little abstract for most tastes. Certainly a familiarity with Allio’s original film would seem to be a prerequisite for a full appreciation of this thoughtful and highly nuanced documentary. Watch Moi, Pierre Rivière first, and then consider giving this a go.
Film: La Ville Louvre Year of production: 1990 UK Release date: 1990 Distributor: Artificial Eye Certificate: E Running time: 84 mins Director: Nicolas Philibert Genre: Documentary Format: DVD Country of Production: France Language: French
Review by: Sarah Hill
The Louvre is arguably one of the world’s most well-known museums. It has dominated Paris since the late 12th century, expanding alongside the city itself. The Louvre has seen many structural additions and renovations over the years, particularly the introduction of the glass pyramid, built by I.M. Pei, which was officially opened on March 30th 1989. The pyramid is the focal point of the museum’s main axes of circulation and serves as an entrance to large reception hall beneath. It’s the vast amount of work that went into to renovating the Louvre and its exhibits which is the subject of this documentary by award-winning filmmaker Nicolas Philibert (Etre Et Avoir). La Ville Louvre delves into the Louvre’s many passages and reserves as thousands of workers – from construction workers to cleaners – strive to ensure that the museum and its exhibitions are ready for the grand re-opening following the addition of the glass pyramid in the 1980s…
Uncertainty pervades the opening scenes of Nicolas Philibert’s La Ville Louvre. Lit only by the dim light of a torch, a shadowy figure walks slowly up some steps and pulls out a large set of keys with which he unlocks a door. The audience is being taken on a journey into another world – a city within a city – home to numerous priceless objects of art - unlike anything seen before.
As the documentary begins to delve into this unknown universe, the most striking thing is just how vast it really is. Indeed, the viewer is informed that at the time of filming, the Louvre had 15 km of underground passages, employed 1,200 employees and housed 300,000 works of art. However, despite this obvious grandeur, the film focuses mainly on the many people within this world who work to ensure that all the expositions are mounted and to the highest possible standard before the Louvre is re-opened to the public. One of the things that the film does well is how it conveys the extent of the staff’s commitment. In one particular scene, a team of six is required to lift one painting which, when laid flat, fills half the large room. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that certain members of staff are shown working out in the Louvre’s very own gym in order to be able to lift such cumbersome works of art.
It seems that the staff will do almost anything if it’s in the best interests of the museum and its art. They deliberate over every detail – even down to whether they wear the Yves Sant Laurent suits or something from another designer, because, as the manager tells them, at the Louvre, “You can do what you like, as long as you do things properly.” The dedication is palpable as the director repeatedly cuts back to a female member of staff sitting alone in a room, delicately restoring a painting with painstaking precision, with the light from the window behind her creating an almost celestial glow. This sense of divinity is reinforced by the fact that the works of art are treated with a large degree of reverence and they are nearly always the sole focus of the frame.
Despite the initial serious tone, the film also exhibits some very subtle comedic moments, as the film moves away from the majestic paintings to the more mundane aspects of working life at the Louvre, such as when they have to undergo fire safety and first aid training. Their blank stares as they are forced to stand around and be lectured until they are required to grapple with a fire extinguisher is something that almost any worker in the audience can relate to, and so it is difficult not to chuckle in recognition.
However, throughout the film, there is an overwhelming, inescapable feeling that something is missing: a voiceover. Whilst the decision to not include a voiceover is partly understandable, as the subject of the film is highly visual - this is reflected within the form of the film itself and the fact that it chooses to limit the use of audio codes - it makes the viewing experience just that bit more difficult. Without a voiceover, the film lacks context. The audience does not really learn anything about the subject of the film and it is difficult to feel any connection with the staff, particularly as they say very little - it feels as if we are merely observing them rather than becoming part of their unusual environment.
The objects themselves also lack context, as they are not viewed in their usual positions within an exhibition and it is possibly more difficult to appreciate them without having been given any further information. In addition, a voiceover would certainly help to give the film a better pace, as it can often be very repetitive: many scenes involve the workers quietly deliberating over where to position the same few paintings. Therefore, without a voiceover to move things along, the film feels as if it far exceeds its 84-minute running time.
La Ville Louvre has an interesting premise and, for a while at least, it is impossible not to be struck by the vastness and the sheer amount of work involved in running one of the world’s most famous museums. However, once the initial fascination has worn off, the film’s lack of pace and context means that even serious appreciators of art would struggle to remain enthralled by it. SH
Film: Nénette Year of production: 2010 UK Release date: 23rd May 2011 Distributor: Artificial Eye Certificate: PG Running time: 70 mins Director: Nicolas Philibert Genre: Documentary Format: DVD Country of Production: France Language: French
Review by: Lucy Judd
In the words of director Nicolas Philibert, “Nénette is a mirror… we attribute all kinds of feelings, intentions and even thoughts to her. In talking about her, we talk about ourselves.” These words act as a great introduction to this film, but they still manage to go only some of the way in explaining the unusual appeal of this film-documentary which centres on Nénette the orangutan, a key attraction of the Jardin des Plantes Zoo, Paris. Transferred to captivity from her natural habitat in Borneo 37 years ago, Nénette, is now over 40 years old, and has far surpassed the usual life-expectancy of her species. She is still, though, as one of the zoo’s visitors points out, the “victim of her own rarity,” and - as the camera focuses on her from the other side of her glass cage - we learn of her life, of the three mates she has outlived, and of the four children she has born (three of which have been transported to other locations in the interest of conservation)…
In reviewing a documentary, you expect to be able to offer little to nothing on aspects such as characters and scripting. However, if there is one thing that Philibert can be congratulated for in Nénette, it is his well-executed inclusion of these elements within this genre. For example, the subtle establishment of Nénette’s character and history is incredibly successful, with the viewer more than likely to be drawn into her story. Be warned, though, this is achieved largely through the use of extended close-ups, and the passing comments and interviews of unseen visitors and staff at Jardin des Plantes. As a result, it does require some concentration to get the very best out of the story. Philibert’s ‘script’ technique is interesting, too, owing to the unusual combination of impromptu reactions and comments from visitors with a handful of staff interviews, which were probably useful in allowing some scope for the management of structure and theme-development in the film.
It might not be quite right to say that this documentary has a plotline so much as that some carefully considered framing and audio-visual editing have managed to highlight a series of themes which are interesting enough to occupy and entertain most people for seventy minutes. Similarly, we won’t be crediting Nénette and her orangutan companions with award-winning ‘performances’. However, Philibert can be worthily commended for capturing the very charm of these animals that first inspired him to create this short film. The human-like behaviours that Nénette exhibits are the most captivating of all, and the choice to include images from her ‘tea time’ was brilliant - there is something quite enthralling about watching an orangutan masterfully open and enjoy a flask of tea and a yoghurt as though she were a sun-worshipping picnicker in the park.
The running theme of this film seems to be that of the similarities between human and orangutan behaviours. The ‘mirror’ effect between the two sides of the glass emphasises the possibility of Nénette being capable of sharing human thoughts and feelings, and this is established by stark facial close-ups and a fly-on-the-wall filming style. All of this encourages the viewer to question how much Nénette is able to take in and understand, and, more importantly, how she might feel about all of it. With this, Nénette inevitably raises some of the moral and ethical questions that exist around keeping wild animals in captivity. However, crucially, this is left up to the viewer to make up their own mind, and thankfully, while there is plenty of room for sympathising with Nénette’s seeming depression, with the little orangutans playing happily nearby, too, there is little chance of this film being misinterpreted as any kind of animal rights propaganda.
This film certainly evokes curiosity about this little-known and little-understood species, and it does invite the viewer to ask many questions that unfortunately Nénette is, quite literally, unable to offer any answers to. This is, though, a truly fascinating picture, and part of its magnetism lies in this inherent inability of Nénette to give you any of your answers. Individual interpretation of her moods, thoughts and feelings mean that this film might potentially mean quite different things to different people. LJ
Film: Nénette Release date: 4th February 2011 Certificate: PG Running time: 70 mins Director: Nicolas Philibert Starring: N/a Genre: Documentary Studio: Artificial Eye Format: Cinema Country: France
In the words of director Nicolas Philibert, “Nénette is a mirror… we attribute all kinds of feelings, intentions and even thoughts to her. In talking about her, we talk about ourselves.” These words act as a great introduction to this film, but they still manage to go only some of the way in explaining the unusual appeal of this film-documentary which centres on Nénette the orangutan, a key attraction of the Jardin des Plantes Zoo, Paris. Transferred to captivity from her natural habitat in Borneo 37 years ago, Nénette, is now over 40 years old, and has far surpassed the usual life-expectancy of her species. She is still, though, as one of the zoo’s visitors points out, the “victim of her own rarity,” and - as the camera focuses on her from the other side of her glass cage - we learn of her life, of the three mates she has outlived, and of the four children she has born (three of which have been transported to other locations in the interest of conservation)…
In reviewing a documentary, you expect to be able to offer little to nothing on aspects such as characters and scripting. However, if there is one thing that Philibert can be congratulated for in Nénette, it is his well-executed inclusion of these elements within this genre. For example, the subtle establishment of Nénette’s character and history is incredibly successful, with the viewer more than likely to be drawn into her story. Be warned, though, this is achieved largely through the use of extended close-ups, and the passing comments and interviews of unseen visitors and staff at Jardin des Plantes. As a result, it does require some concentration to get the very best out of the story. Philibert’s ‘script’ technique is interesting, too, owing to the unusual combination of impromptu reactions and comments from visitors with a handful of staff interviews, which were probably useful in allowing some scope for the management of structure and theme-development in the film.
It might not be quite right to say that this documentary has a plotline so much as that some carefully considered framing and audio-visual editing have managed to highlight a series of themes which are interesting enough to occupy and entertain most people for seventy minutes. Similarly, we won’t be crediting Nénette and her orangutan companions with award-winning ‘performances’. However, Philibert can be worthily commended for capturing the very charm of these animals that first inspired him to create this short film. The human-like behaviours that Nénette exhibits are the most captivating of all, and the choice to include images from her ‘tea time’ was brilliant - there is something quite enthralling about watching an orangutan masterfully open and enjoy a flask of tea and a yoghurt as though she were a sun-worshipping picnicker in the park.
The running theme of this film seems to be that of the similarities between human and orangutan behaviours. The ‘mirror’ effect between the two sides of the glass emphasises the possibility of Nénette being capable of sharing human thoughts and feelings, and this is established by stark facial close-ups and a fly-on-the-wall filming style. All of this encourages the viewer to question how much Nénette is able to take in and understand, and, more importantly, how she might feel about all of it. With this, Nénette inevitably raises some of the moral and ethical questions that exist around keeping wild animals in captivity. However, crucially, this is left up to the viewer to make up their own mind, and thankfully, while there is plenty of room for sympathising with Nénette’s seeming depression, with the little orangutans playing happily nearby, too, there is little chance of this film being misinterpreted as any kind of animal rights propaganda.
This film certainly evokes curiosity about this little-known and little-understood species, and it does invite the viewer to ask many questions that unfortunately Nénette is, quite literally, unable to offer any answers to. This is, though, a truly fascinating picture, and part of its magnetism lies in this inherent inability of Nénette to give you any of your answers. Individual interpretation of her moods, thoughts and feelings mean that this film might potentially mean quite different things to different people. LJ
French filmmaker Nicolas Philibert directs this documentary about Nenette, a 40-year-old orangutan kept at the Jardins des plantes zoo in Paris.
A star attraction at the zoo, Nenette nevertheless pays little attention to the hordes of visitors who flock to look at her.
A mother of four who has outlived three mates, Nenette has lived at the zoo for over thirty years. The film shows her going about her daily routines behind glass, revealing her visitors only by their voices and as shadowy reflections in the glass.
Film: Nénette Release date: 4th February 2011 Certificate: PG Running time: 70 mins Director: Nicolas Philibert Starring: N/a Genre: Documentary Studio: Artificial Eye Format: Cinema Country: France
