The Diving Bell and the Butterfly *

Well, it’s time for an Accidental Critic pan.

“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” (Le Scaphandre et le papillon) is a French docudrama based on the real life story of Elle magazine editor Jean-Dominique Bauby. Bauby suffered a stroke in 1995 that left him completely paralyzed and mute. Well, not completely paralyzed, he was able to author an autobiography which he dictated by blinking his left eye.

When the film was released in 2007 it garnered a good bit of praise. Julian Schnabel was nominated for the 2008 Best Director Oscar (and won the Golden Globe). The film has been described as “poignant”, “an ode to liberation”, a “sensitive exploration”…okay we’ll watch it already.

Hmmm…gotta say, we were not impressed. Should we have found the hero admirable or the women who loved him profound, thoughtful, or sensitive? Perhaps not. They were French, though. The situation is tragic, but is there a tragic hero? Does the hero learn to overcome his privations or does he just dwell in his memories and fantasies? Of course a docudrama doesn’t have to be only as good as the truth of its main characters and yet we couldn’t help but be disappointed by the film. As you are watching you keep waiting, thinking that something important is about to happen, and then it doesn’t.

If this is among the best that French film has to offer, it seems that the French are full of departure. With the deaths of Beaudrillard and Derrida, has the culture suffered its own neurological accident from which recovery is unlikely? Is French cinema, like the former editor of Elle, reduced to the wink?

We recently reviewed an older French film,“Diva” which upon recent viewing seemed a bit naive. But for many reasons it is still the more thoughtful film. At least there are some interesting ideas about beauty and about evil which deserve reflection.

Seen any good French movies lately?

Dangerous Liaisons *****

“Dangerous Liaisons” is based on an epistolary novel written prior to the French revolution. It is 18th century France and the idle rich are amusing themselves by practicing the art of deception and seduction. At the head of it all is the Countess (Glen Close), master manipulator and society’s reigning queen for whom control is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Her devoted and lustful Vicomte (John Malkovich) is her partner in crime. Trust us, the modern day shenanigans portrayed in those cheesy reality shows have nothing on the machinations of the idle rich in 18th century France.

Bonded through a deeply cynical view of love, the Countess and the Vicomte strike a deal. If the Vicomte can seduce the pious Mme de Tourvelle, he will receive what would be his greatest conquest – the Countess herself. The perfect plan is hatched and our Vicomte is confident that he is in it only for the thrill of the seduction and the prize. But love it seems has a gravity of its own that pulls on each of them, causing them to lose control.

Love and truth, two things we try desperately to deny them when they disappoint us. You cannot control love and the truth will not only be eventually revealed, it will also reveal you. This is the lesson that we see our Vicomte learning as his heart is conquered by Mme de Tourvelle and then broken by his inability to rightly honor that love.

The climax of the movie is reached when the Vicomte repeats “It’s beyond my control” over and over again. It is the blunt instrument that he uses to break the heart of Mme de Tourvelle and placate the Countess. Is he lying? Certainly being in control in affairs of the heart has been his absolute. Control is what enables him to ignore what is best in humans and instead delight in their humiliation. The truth is that the control he prizes is a sham. The Countess has, by giving him this phrase, sent him on his way to Mme de Tourvelle like a missile fully armed. Malkovich delivers the line with a robotic intensity. The Vicomte is losing whatever humanity he pretended to have. His growing anger as he repeats it is a sign that he himself is not unaware of what he is losing. The only suitable punishment is death, which he elegantly turns into revenge upon the Countess.

So often people mistake love for their desire for control. Think about the wife who tolerates her husband’s infidelity. Is it love she is hanging on to or is she merely driven by the fear of losing her own fairy tale? In the name of control we deny the absence of love and its presence. Nothing good comes from this denial.

The closing scene of the film is chilling. We see the Countess seated at her dressing table staring into a mirror as she removes her "masque”. What lies beneath is the emptiness sown by denial.

A Few Days in September ****

Unlike so many of them out there, this is a good political drama. Lately we have been staying away from this genre because much of what has been produced in the last few years has been done so with an agenda so obvious that you feel as if you made the mistake of inviting Sean Penn over for dinner and now you are sorely regretting it as he launches into his third tirade during the second course and blows cigarette smoke in your face (think “Lions for Lambs”). But lately we have been on a Juliette Binoche kick so when this film popped up on our Watch Instantly radar with the additional carrot of John Turturro, we bit.

Aside from it being an entertaining, well-acted film, what you can deeply appreciate about “A Few Days in September” is its treatment of our political world with the complexity that the subject matter deserves. The world has grown simply too big for there to be just two sides to anything. It’s naïve to think that a government as big as the United States can be simply “for” something and also not be ambivalent towards or against it. Have you ever tried getting even a four-person family to decide unanimously on where to go to dinner Friday night? Good. Now imagine a huge bureaucracy trying to come to a consensus on anything. Instinctively we know this and yet we continuously attempt to turn every issue into a black and white picture that is easy on our eyes and requires nothing more from us than to pick a side. So what is the answer? Oddly, “A Few Days in September” seems to be suggesting – poetry.

The first clue we receive is that the principle adversaries in the movie are named Pound and Elliot. The hit man, Mr. Pound has learned an appreciation of poetry from the master spy, Mr. Elliot. Pound recites Blake while watching the blood drain from one of his victims. Meanwhile Elliot’s stepson, David, loves poetry as much as his father much to the vexation of Elliot’s estranged daughter. But perhaps the most poetic character is Irene who functions alternately as master spy and “mother” to the two charges that her friend, Elliot, has asked her to chaperone to a meeting with him.

The movie culminates in poetic justice. The attack on the twin towers has inadvertently spawned a love between two young (and technically incestuous) hopefuls.