Chez nous (2017)
Directed by Lucas Belvaux

Film Review

With Chez nous, director Lucas Belvaux delivers a loud and timely warning about the threat posed by hitherto unelectable extreme political parties as they take advantage of the wave of populism that is presently sweeping the globe.  It has been mooted that populism (specifically the cynical playing on people's fears and baser instincts for easy electoral advantage) is the greatest threat that western democracy has faced since the Second World War.  A recent spate of shock election results in the United States and Europe, in which quite understandable disillusionment with the mainstream political parties has tipped the balance in favour of invective-spitting bigots, self-promoting celebrities and other assorted fruitcakes, doesn't exactly augur well for the future of democracy.  Inspired by Le Bloc, an equally grim and forthright novel by Jérôme Leroy (who co-authored the screenplay with Belvaux), Chez nous provides some gory insights into how fringe parties are exploiting public dissatisfaction with the main parties and are altering their image to make them a far more attractive voting proposition, without changing what they actually stand for.

For a director who is now closely associated with slick modern thrillers - Cavale (2002) and Rapt (2009) being two of the best examples of the genre made in France in the last decade - this is a surprising departure, although Belvaux has turned his attention to social issues already, in La Raison du plus faible (2006).  When Chez nous was first released in France in February 2017, the Front National's leader Marine Le Pen was riding high in the opinion poles and was a likely contender in the second round of the French Presidential election just a few months later.  As it turned out, neither of France's main political parties was represented in the final round of the election, and Le Pen's defeat was assured only by the dramatic emergence of a political unknown who was even more photogenic and adept at promoting himself - Emmanuel Macron.  Even before the film's release, the Front National was up in arms, condemning it as a flagrant attack on the party - fair comment, given the uncanny similarity between the party's charismatic leader and the near-Le Pen look-alike played by Catherine Jacob in the film.

We shall never know what impact Belvaux's film had on the result of the 2017 French Presidential election but its central thesis is one that extends far beyond the borders of France and has a powerful resonance in other countries where populist politics have already taken root and started to transform the political landscape, in ways that are far from encouraging and could well be seismic.  (The impending break-up the European Union, the total collapse of the UK economy and a massive conflict in the Far East being just three of the things we have to look forward to in the next few years, if you believe some of the cheerier merchants of doom).  In an era when image is everything, when how you appear and what you say to camera are far more important than what you actually believe, the whole basis of liberal democracy appears to be under threat as it becomes ever-more skewed in favour of the liars, ego-maniacs and lunatics who think that they have a God-given right to rule our planet and are willing to resort to any subterfuge necessary to bring this about.

Pauline, the character sympathetically played by Emilie Dequenne in Belvaux's film, and the way she is brainwashed and moulded into an electoral asset for the most cynical of motives, exemplifies this disturbing trend towards a new and dangerous form of charlatan politics, in which truth, conviction and honesty no longer seem to matter.  Pauline is an innocent Trilby who allows her compassion for others and her desire to do good to blind her to the true nature of the political party she is manoeuvred into serving by a Svengali-like smooth-talker, André Dussolier.  Pauline sees only what she wants to see, only what she is supposed to see.  Without her realising it, she is transformed from an ordinary woman who cares deeply about others into a synthetic politician of the most vacuous and platitudinous kind, whose sole function is to win an election by force of personality.  She is not allowed to have views of her own, and when she begins dating a man with neo-Fascist sympathies (a rougher than usual Guillaume Gouix) she soon finds herself in serious conflict with her political puppet-masters.  Thinking xenophobic bigotry is one thing; shouting it in public is an altogether different matter.

Chez nous hammers home its central message with as much restraint and subtlety as a loud-mouthed madman militating against war whilst sitting astride a nuclear warhead, but it makes some valid points and offers a depressingly plausible view of the way western democracy appears to be heading at the moment.  Belvaux's penchant for developing complex and ambiguous characters is far less in evidence here than it was, say, on his marvellous Trilogie (2002), but even with such a blatant FN-knocking parti pris and reluctance to delve more deeply into the murky pit of populist politics he still manages to craft a compelling and deeply unsettling film.  And if Monsieur Macron's popularity continues on its present downwards trajectory, Marine Le Pen may well end up as the next President of France.  At least we'll know how she did it.

Film Synopsis

Pauline is a single mother of two who is devoted to her work as a home-care nurse in an anonymous town in northern France.  Unlike her father, a retired metalworker and committed communist, she has no deep political convictions but regrets that more is not being doing to help those in need, such as the poor folk she comes into contact with on a daily basis.  Dr Philippe Berthier, a former member of the European Parliament and local bigwig, is impressed both by Pauline's values and her ability to engage with ordinary people, qualities that make her an ideal candidate for his political party, the Patriotic Block, in the upcoming local elections.  Pauline's willingness to help others overrides any personal anxieties she may have about representing a far rightwing political party, so she agrees to stand in the election, with the full backing of the PB's president, Agnès Dorgelle.  The nurse is surprised by the hostility this arouses in her patients, some of whom refuse to have anything more to do with her.  Pauline finds herself in deeper trouble when she begins an affair with her son's soccer coach, Stéphane Stankowiak.  The latter's overtly racist views are not what the leaders of the Patriotic Block want to see associated with any of their electoral candidates...