Film Review
Proving that he is anything but a one-hit wonder, French-Canadian
filmmaker Xavier Dolan followed up his acclaimed debut feature
J'ai
tué ma mère (2009) with a film that is even
more astonishing, all the more so when you realise that Dolan was just
21 when he made it.
Les Amours
imaginaires is framed around the classic love triangle - a kind
of kitsch homage to Truffaut's
Jules et Jim if you reckon that
the main inspiration for Dolan's first film was Truffaut's
Les 400 coups - except that here a
boy and girl end up fighting over the same boy. With influences
that range from Bernardo Bertolucci's
The
Dreamers (2003) to Wong Kar-wai's
In the Mood for Love (2000), via
virtually the entire output of the French New Wave, Dolan's second
cinematic extravaganza is a mesmerising visual poem that both
celebrates and mourns the power of romantic desire, the florid
exuberance of its mise-en-scène subtly soiled by the skidmarks
of cynicism that lie beneath.
Apparently uninhibited by the self-restraint and self-consciousness
that would limit the creativity of a more experienced filmmaker, Xavier
Dolan brings to his art an undiluted potency that can be overwhelming
but also exhilarating. The extreme artifice that abounds in his
second film, including liberal use of slow-motion, bright-coloured
filters and bizarre dream-like flights of fancy, with musical
accompaniment ranging from Wagner to Dalida, makes this feel like a
Pedro Almodóvar film in a dangerously concentrated form, but
there is within this surfeit of stylish excess a raging furnace of
authenticity.
Les Amours
imaginaires may be dizzyingly, and sometimes off-puttingly,
flamboyant but it is a film with a powerful emotional resonance, as it
touches on something we have all experienced, the delusion of love and
the pain of rejection. What is most remarkable about Dolan is not
his prodigious creative talent, nor the ease with which he has
established himself as one of the most formidable film auteurs of our
time, but his sensitivity and perceptiveness, qualities which allow him
to seize what is in the human heart and project it onto the screen in a
way that anyone who sees it will at once recognise it as a fundamental
truth about ourselves.
As in his first feature, Dolan not only directed, wrote, produced and
designed the film he also takes one of the principal roles, forming a
charismatic triumvirate of acting talent with Niels Schneider and Monia
Chokri. If Dolan shamelessly models his appearance and mannerisms
on James Dean (one of his personal icons), Chokri is a nod towards
Audrey Hepburn and Schneider a dead-ringer for Martin Potter in
Fellini's
Satyricon. As
the mythical object of desire or
homme
fatal, Schneider doesn't have much to do other than look
suitably aloof and gorgeous, but he plays with his character's sexual
ambiguity brilliantly and provides an enigmatic marble centrepiece
around which Dolan and Chokri drool like demented animals, pathetically
consumed by a desire that will drive them to the limits of sanity.
Periodically, faux documentary inserts gatecrash the main narrative to show
a diverse cavalcade of young people raking over their
past amorous disappointments, in a darkly comedic vein.
It takes a while but the quote from the French poet Alfred de Musset
which is flashed up at the start of the film finally makes sense.
"Il n'y a de vrai au monde que de déraisonner d'amour" which
roughly translates as "there is no greater truth in our world than love
without reason". The moment that Schneider's indifference for his obsessive
admirers crystallises into outright rejection the desolation that
suddenly pours over Dolan and Chokri is so intense that we feel it as
keenly as a slap on the face.
Les
Amours imaginaires is a sugar-coated fantasy with the most
rancid interior - a film that seeps into your consciousness like
treacle and then gradually sets into something hard and nasty.
Don't be deceived by Xavier Dolan's youth and exuberance. He
knows exactly what makes us tick and how to employ this knowledge in
his art to reveal our true nature to us. It is perhaps with
anticipation tempered with foreboding that we should await the
revelations he has in store for us...
© James Travers 2014
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