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.
© James Travers 2017
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
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...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.