L'Équipier (2004)
Directed by Philippe Lioret

Film Review

After their successful first collaboration on Mademoiselle (2001), director Philippe Lioret and actress Sandrine Bonnaire teamed up once again, for a tale of tempestuous passion on a storm-tossed island off the Breton coast.  L'Équipier was Lioret's fourth and most ambitious feature so far, one that makes good use of its savagely raw island setting to provide some potent visual metaphors for an illicit romance involving a rookie lighthouse keeper and the alluring wife of his friend and mentor.  It's by no means Lioret's finest work - he would go on to write and direct far worthier films such as Je vais bien, ne t'en fais pas (2006) and Welcome (2009) - but it has considerable appeal and allows its author ample scope to indulge his intense fascination with the complexity of human relationships.
 
There's not a great deal of originality on show, however. You have an uneasy sense of déjà vu throughout, and memories of previous films (such as Jean Gremillon's 1941 classic Remorques) are easily evoked, as much by the well-worn storyline as the location.  The script isn't so much peppered with clichés as absolutely dripping with them, and it is hard not to censure Lioret (known for his innovative flair on other films) for taking on such derivative subject matter.  L'Équipier is the kind of soggy and predictable melodrama you would be more likely to find in the 1940s or '50s, not the kind of place you would expect to encounter a director of Lioret's depth and sensitivity.

Whilst the film offers few surprises on the narrative front it escapes from the trap of mundanity through a combination of superlative acting and inspired photography.  Renowned for her introspective character portrayals, Bonnaire is well-suited to play the blameless innocent who falls foul of a hackneyed romance conceived by some imagination-strapped screenwriters.  By her gestures and looks, she brings the requisite note of authenticity which is singularly lacking in the dialogue.

Far better served by the so-so script are Grégori Derangère and Philippe Torreton - their fraught relationship as colleagues and rivals for Bonnaire's love provides the film with its strongest suit, a natural focal point for a drama that would otherwise have collapsed into something resembling a dreary enactment of a Catherine Cookson novel.  L'Équipier is a curious departure for Philippe Lioret, a perhaps too blatant attempt to court the mainstream, but whilst it falls short in some departments it succeeds overall in capturing the poignancy and injustice of a love affair that is destined to get smashed to bits on some very jagged rocks.

Film Synopsis

Camille has no need of the family home she has inherited from her parents on the remote Brittany island of Ushant, so she decides to make a return visit and arrange its sale.  There is no shortage of potential buyers and she is confident of concluding her business within a few days.  During her trip, she meets up with an elderly aunt and they agree to spend one last night together in the house.  It is then that Camille comes across a novel written by someone named Antoine Cassenti.  To her surprise, the book recounts a true story that took place on the island forty years before, one in which her parents were both intimately involved.

It was in 1963 that Cassenti first came to Ushant, to take up the post of a lighthouse keeper, working under Camille's father, Yvon Le Guen.  Wounded in the Algerian War, the new arrival is keen to make a fresh start, but he has a hard time settling in on the island.  The locals are naturally suspicious of strangers and will have nothing to do with Cassenti, although he soon gains the confidence of Le Guen and his younger wife Mabé.  As they get to know one another, Cassenti and Mabé discover a strong mutual attraction and soon realise they are deeply in love.  It is a love affair that can go nowhere, and in the end the newcomer has no choice but to accept the futility of the situation...