Film Review
The solemn spectre of Ingmar Bergman looms over Stéphane Brizé's
latest film, a chillingly austere drama in which a mother and her son
strive to achieve a reconciliation having spent most of their lives
hating and rejecting one another. (Bergman's
Cries and Whispers and
Autumn Sonata are obvious
points of reference.) In his fifth and most impressive film to
date, Brizé broaches the controversial and highly topical
subject of assisted suicide (with considerable tact and impartiality),
although this is not what the film is about.
Quelques heures de printemps
(a.k.a.
A Few Hours of Spring)
is primarily concerned with the two defining themes of
Brizé's oeuvre: the complexities of male-female relationships
and the difficulty of communicating one's deepest feelings to another
human being. This time, the central relationship is not a
romantic one, but one involving a depressive middle-aged man and his
terminally ill mother who are trapped in a bitter love-hate
relationship (a Bergman-esque take on a situation that was mined to
death in the British TV sitcom
Steptoe
and Son). The film's sombre tone and languorous pace will
doubtless limit its appeal, but for those who are not intimidated by
such things it is hard not be ensnared, intellectually and emotionally,
by the delicacy with which it tackles a difficult subject.
The star of Brizé's previous film
Mademoiselle Chambon (2009),
Vincent Lindon is an admirable choice to play the grouchy, introverted
son Alain, and it is hard to think of a better actress than
Hélène Vincent for the role of the equally cantankerous
mother Yvette. It is an inspired pairing and both actors turn in
performances of Oscar-winning (or, rather César-winning)
potential. From the outset, we know that there is far more to the
characters and their relationship than is apparent on the
surface. Their heated verbal exchanges would suggest that they
have nothing but an undying contempt for one another, and yet it is
obvious that they have an intense mutual need and that the years of
accumulated rancour have not totally extinguished their better feelings
for one another. The tragedy is that both characters are so
immured in their enforced solitude that they are incapable of
expressing what they genuinely feel and recognising the needs of the
other. So they go on biting lumps out of each other, like a pair
of feuding velociraptors guesting on
The
Jerry Springer Show, perpetually stranded in their own emotional
deserts. It takes a chance event - Alain's discovery that his
mother has an inoperable brain tumour - to bring them both to their
senses and make them realise how little time is left for them to
achieve a desperately needed reconciliation.
One of the difficulties with the film is that it is extraordinarily
difficult to engage with either of the main characters. Despite
their flawless performances, Vincent Lindon and Hélène
Vincent do nothing to endear their characters to us.
Brizé's habitually minimalist mise-en-scène has a further
distancing effect and it feels as if the director is doing everything
he can to prevent his audience from sympathising with his characters
(à la Brecht, Bresson and Bergman). It's a risky strategy
but it just about pays off in the film's final sequences, which would
probably have had far less of an impact if we had been closer
to the characters. It can be argued that the main role of any
artist is to portray life as authentically as he can, without artifice
or subterfuge, and in this respect Brizé is mostly
successful.
Quelques heures de
printemps is not as easy to watch as some of his previous films,
but it is unquestionably Brizé's most astute statement of the
human condition so far.
The only thing that jars in this remarkable film are the somewhat
half-hearted attempts to lighten the tone and bring a little sunshine
into the gloom. The amorous digression with Emmanuelle Seigner
feels like a casual afterthought, as does the darkly comedic episode in
which Yvette poisons her son's dog (inspired no doubt by Pierre
Granier-Deferre's
Le Chat, in which Simone
Signoret is driven to kill Jean Gabin's beloved cat, for similar
reasons). Whilst these diversions are not entirely unwelcome,
they feel clumsily crowbarred into the narrative and take away more
than they add. Generally, the secondary characters in the film
are poorly developed and are at best no more than complacent archetypes
(the dog excluded).
The film is far more impressive in its second half, which focuses on
Alain's attempt to connect with his dying mother and becomes
increasingly compelling as it looks more and more like a
documentary. Dialogue is sparse but the long silences say far
more than any amount of verbiage, and you are constantly struck by the
subtlety and depth of the lead actors' performances. Even when
Alain accedes to his mother's wishes to end her life in a Swiss suicide
clinic, it still seems unlikely that either character will be able to
break through the emotional barricades they have erected. The
final journey that Alain and Yvette take together is as much an
emotional one as it is a physical one. It is only by finding the
courage to express what they genuinely feel about each other that they
will escape their personal hell, the one to find dignity in death, the
other to rebuild his fractured life. It is a simple story, simply
told, but by the end of it you are emotionally devastated.
© James Travers 2012
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Next Stéphane Brizé film:
La Loi du marché (2015)
Film Synopsis
When he is released from prison after serving an 18 month sentence for
drugs smuggling, Alain Evrard has no choice but to move back in with
his elderly mother, Yvette. The reunion is not a happy one. Alain,
now 48, cannot forgive his mother for how she has ill-treated him in
the past, and Yvette cannot conceal her contempt for her son, a man who
has failed at everything. Then, one day, Alain discovers that his
mother has a terminal illness and that she has made arrangements to end
her life at a Swiss clinic which specialises in assisted suicide.
In the few days that they have left together, will mother and son be
able to put aside their differences and finally make a connection...?
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.