French Cinema: Juste la fin du monde (It's Only the End of the World) Film Review

It’s Only the End of the World is a French-language film directed by Xavier Dolan. The film stars Gaspard Ulliel, Nathalie Baye, Marion Cotillard, Léa Seydoux, and Vincent Cassel who are arguably some of the biggest names in French cinema.

Based on the play of the same name by Jean-Luc Lagarce the narrative of the film follows Louis, a playwright on his trip home for the first time in 12 years wherein he plans to tell his family that he is dying.

It’s easy to see that this film is based on a play due to its intimate settings, small core cast and telling dialogue where what isn’t said is just as intriguing and important as what is said. I also love how there is so much ambiguity throughout the film as it’s never revealed why Louis left in the first place only that something triggered it. This for me adds to the realism of the film as the story is essentially about how important communication is and how we often fail to listen to each other which results in awkwardness and resentment especially when it comes to family. In some parts, it did feel a bit over the top, especially when Louis is in the company of his aggressive older brother Antoine, who just can’t help but be a complete prick to everyone around him, but for the most part, it was a compelling family drama.

This is the first film by Xavier Dolan that I have seen and I must say that I’m kind of annoyed that I haven’t watched any of his work sooner as I was really quite taken aback by the cinematography (claustrophobic close-ups, intense colour grading) and the use of soundtrack in the film. Especially the use of O-Zone’s Dragostea Din Tei (yes that so cheesy it’s kind of good song from 2003) and Exotica’s Une miss s’immisce and how they weave into moments from Louis’s memories. These scenes are a world away from the claustrophobia of the family home in the present. Running hopefully over a sun-drenched field as a kid or a sensually lit (oranges, pinks and greens dominate the colour palette here) teenage sexual encounter, these flashbacks are beautifully nostalgic and the music only helps to create the atmosphere for each one.

« la prochaine fois nous serons préparés »

“We'll be better prepared next time…”

The film’s ending is also quite visually striking with severe fiery oranges that take over the colour palette due to the sun setting. It is also a fitting symbol for how intense and fraught the whole day has been for Louis and that perhaps like the setting sun signals the end of a day, this sunset is the end of his connection with his family. Bird imagery is also dispersed throughout the film but most notably at the end with a surreal moment where a small cuckoo escapes the cuckoo clock and flies frantically around the house searching for a way out. Almost certainly a metaphor for Louis himself, he flew the coup and should not have returned and as it lies dying on the floor at the close of the film, he too is on his journey towards death, alone.

French Cinema: La Haine (Hate) Review

La Haine follows three young men in the banlieues (suburbs) of Paris for almost 24 hours as they navigate the aftermath of a riot wherein a friend has been shot. Directed by Matthew Kassovitz and starring Vincent Cassel, Hubert Koundé and Saïd Taghmaoui, this hard-hitting French film from 1995 still feels just as relevant in 2021. How is that possible?!

Presented in a stark but beautiful monochrome palette, La Haine holds nothing back. The narrative explores a wealth of topics including race, masculinity, police brutality, poverty, the aimlessness of youth and societal expectations. In most cases, this would be too much material to cover coherently in a film; however, the simplicity of the 24h timeline makes it possible.

« C'est l'histoire d'un homme qui tombe d'un immeuble de 50 étages. Le mec, au fur et à mesure de sa chute, il se répète sans cesse pour se rassurer: Jusqu'ici tout va bien. Jusqu'ici tout va bien. Jusqu'ici tout va bien. Mais l'important, c'est pas la chute, c'est l'atterrissage. »

“Heard about the guy who fell off a skyscraper? On his way down past each floor, he kept saying to reassure himself: So far so good... so far so good... so far so good. How you fall doesn't matter. It's how you land!”

The story of the falling man is repeated throughout the film. This is an obvious metaphor for the three central characters and society as a whole (which Cassel’s character notes later on). It’s also interesting that graffiti and billboards have ironic messages throughout the film such as ‘L'avenir c'est nous’ (We are the future) and ‘Le Monde est à vous’ (The world is yours) which Saïd changes to ‘Le Monde est à nous’ (The World is ours). Escaping the poverty of the banlieues is impossible for these young men because society doesn’t allow them the chance to better themselves.

Another motif that drives the plot, perhaps just as much as the falling man story is the gun. Vinz carries the police revolver for most of the film, its always present but hidden from sight. Another metaphor, but for violence this time. It’s also a device that builds tension and is a literal use of the narrative technique Chekov’s Gun. “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.“ (Chekov, 1911). We are anxious throughout the film because we know that this gun will be used, but up until the very last moment of the film, we don’t know how or when!

« Je me sens comme une petite fourmi perdue dans un univers intergalactique »

“I feel like a little ant lost in an intergalactic universe.”

Normally films become less and less relevant as the year’s pass, or they become offensive because of how backwards their representations were (Hello, Mickey Rooney as Mr Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Laurence Olivier in blackface as Othello!). Unfortunately, La Haine is feeling more and more relevant, especially in the last year with the Black Lives Matter marches around the world.

Little Joe Film Review

Directed by Jessica Hausner Little Joe is an indie sci-fi horror that explores genetic modification and motherhood. Emily Beecham stars as Alice Woodard, a plant breeder who has created a new species that gives its owners intense joy…but at what price?

Narratively Little Joe is interesting, there is a clear exploration of deep themes: the mood altering effects of pharmaceuticals, the trials of motherhood and the bastardization of nature through genetic modification just to name a few. But, I would be inclined to say that what really makes this film quite special is the symbolism displayed through visuals and audio.

The colour design of this film is one of its most striking features. The lab and uniforms are a pale montone green which are directly juxtaposed with the vibrant red plumage of the Little Joe plant. This use of complementary colours creates a sort of visual symbiosis between the scientists and the plants, but as the film progresses it is clear that this visual harmony is indeed superficial and something far more nefarious is at work. Elsewhere, the colour design sticks to a closer palette of greens, oranges and yellows or the intense mixing of purple and red, the former displaying order and familiarity and the letter another expression of danger.

The camera moves very methodically to create a sense of control and sterileness which soon becomes creepy as it is too perfect. Moreover, this precision of the camera movement also acts as a parallel to what is happening within the lab, the modification of nature has morphed the characters into automatons, they become focused on one singular goal the propagation of the plant as it can’t reproduce on its own.

Another way in which Little Joe creates unease is through its erratic soundtrack. There is an eerie exoticness to the sounds and irregular rhythms which no doubt was used to mirror the strangeness of the plant. And while it can become a little distracting at times for the most part this soundtrack added a curious texture to the film and enhanced the mood.

Overall, Little Joe is a peculiar little film that will leave you reeling long after the credits, it’s full of beautiful visuals, uncanny commentaries on society and a really fantastic central performance by Emily Beecham who quite rightly won the Best Actress Award at Cannes last year.

French Cinema: Les Confins du monde (To the Ends of the World) film review

Les Confins du monde is directed by Guillaume Nicloux and stars Gaspard Ulliel, Guillaume Gouix, Lang Khê Tran and Gérard Depardieu.

Set during the volatile days of France's colonization of Indochina, most specifically Vietnam, Les Confins du monde follows a soldier on his quest to avenge his brother’s violent murder.

Beautifully shot, Les Confins du monde uses lingering shots on sumptuous jungles and beautifully framed quiet conversations suffused with poeticism to juxtapose with moments of extreme violence and gore.

The opening of the film is a brilliant example of this. The ghostly calm, represented by Ulliel’s Tassen sitting alone with people drifting past in a misty army post, a colour palette of pale blues, greys and greens suddenly becomes a contortion of bodies rendered in deep reds, oranges and rich green. A mass grave of bleeding corpses.

This is a shock to the system, a glimpse at the horrors of war and the film to come. This abrupt shift from peace to violence also represents the nature of guerilla warfare; a moment of solitude and silence very quickly descends into chaos and death.

The narrative of Les Confins du monde is very evocative of Apocalypse Now, and Tassen teeters on the edge of becoming a Colonel Kurtz figure as he obsessively hunts for a revolutionary figure waging a guerilla war against French occupation and Japanese invaders whom he deems responsible for the death and mutilation of his brother and his brother’s wife.

Tassen also falls in love with a Vietnamese prostitute, but his love manifests as control and psychological punishment, and his relationships with his fellow soldiers don’t fair much better.

He is poisoned by the need to avenge; he isolates those around him and breaks rules and causes many to die. It’s a brutal film, and the story sort of just fades off towards the end, symbolising that Tassen will probably never find the man he is hunting and that his whole journey is in the end completely futile.

«Le deuil est une drôle d'épreuve. Un jour, on croit en être sorti, et puis non... Il est toujours là, incrusté avec sa colère»

“Grief is a strange ordeal. One day we think we’re cured, but no… it’s still there indivisible from our anger”

Another central theme to the film is that of grief, Tassen is grieving, but he is blinded by rage and PTSD after being the sole survivor of a massacre. He has quiet conversations with Saintonge, a writer who asserts that he is on no one’s side, that he has fallen in love with Vietnam and its people, but who is ultimately crippled by grief.

Tassen is almost disgusted by Saintonge, by his defeat and continues on his journey. With each loss of life around him, Tassen contorts into a more savage, cruel and empty version of himself. This in itself is what makes the film interesting to watch, the study of a broken man on a deadly and endless quest.