Showing posts with label Éric Bruneau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Éric Bruneau. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

2024 Top Ten List #7 The Night Logan Woke Up (La nuit où Laurier Gaudreault s'est réveillé)


 


























Director Xavier Dolan

Dolan on the set




























THE NIGHT LOGAN WOKE UP (La nuit où Laurier Gaudreault s'est réveillé) – made for TV        A-           Canada  (293 mi)  2022  d: Xavier Dolan

When you die of our loving,
I will go into the garden and plant a flower that blooms in the early morning
Half metal, half paper, so it wounds my foot a little
Die of a very gentle death so that a flower may grow 

When you die of our loving,
I will compose a song with a tune of our times - a singing song for seven years
You will hear it, you will learn it, and your lips will thank me
Die of a very weary death so that I may compose it 

When you die of our loving,
the two books I shall write will be so beautiful that you can use them for your grave
And I, in turn, will lie down there, for I will die the same day
Die of a very tender death as you await them 

When you die of our loving,
I will take the key and hang myself on the hook of spoiled joys
And no one will know that we conquered those paths
Die of an exquisite death so that I may tell of them 

When you die of our loving, if too little is left of me, don’t ask me why
In the lies that follow we would be neither beautiful nor true
Die of a very lively death so that I may follow you

—Rufus Wainwright with Kate & Anna McGarrigle, 2005, Rufus Wainwright - Quand vous mourrez de nos amours YouTube (3:33)

The pandemic affected everyone differently, with Dolan sitting around with more spare time than usual, coming up with a plan to do a television mini-series, adapting French-Canadian playwright Michel Marc Bouchard’s 2019 stage production of La nuit où Laurier Gaudreault s’est reveille.  Having adapted the same playwright before in 2014 Top Ten List #7 Tom at the Farm (Tom à la ferme) (2013), Dolan places himself onscreen in both films while also using a stellar cast from the original play, creating something closer to the Hitchcock psychological thriller mode as he examines a dysfunctional family dynamic when an unspeakable event traumatizes Val-des-Chutes, a small town in Québec, with reverberations swirling around their lives afterwards, set simultaneously in 2019 and 1991, freely moving back and forth between times.  Few directors have made a series of films as personally compelling as Dolan, 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #7 I Killed My Mother (J’ai Tue Ma Mere) (2009), 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #4 Heartbeats (Les Amours Imaginaires) (2010), 2013 Top Ten List #2 Laurence Anyways (2012), 2014 Top Ten List #7 Tom at the Farm (Tom à la ferme) (2013), 2015 Top Ten List #1 Mommy (2014), 2018 Top Ten List #6 It's Only the End of the World (Juste la fin du monde) (2016), 2020 Top Ten List #3 The Death and Life of John F. Donovan (2018), 2020 Top Ten List #7 Matthias & Maxime (Matthias et Maxime) (2019), many of them still flying under the radar, as outside of MOMMY (2014), none have been released commercially in the United States.  2020 Top Ten List #3 The Death and Life of John F. Donovan (2018) was supposed to be the English language film that broke into American markets, but negative media postings about problems behind the scenes created adverse publicity, as actress Jessica Chastain, originally announced as one of the film’s leads, was cut completely from the final version, so that American release never happened, with critics lambasting the film with negative reviews, a startling point of view that is undeserved.  Dolan was deemed a wunderkind and child prodigy, making critically acclaimed films as a teenager, typically writing, directing, acting, producing, editing, and even serving as the costume designer, while also subtitling his films into English, having an immediate impact at the Cannes Film Festival where he was lauded with praise, having more films play at the festival over ten years than most directors will experience in their lifetimes, until the advent of social media finally turned on him with a vengeance, including incessant tweets of polarizing reactions, some of which turned condescending and viciously personal, becoming an onslaught of relentless attacks, where it wasn’t his films so much as his personality they didn’t like.  Unafraid to speak out against LGBTQ prejudice and homophobia and in support of marriage equality in Canada, the media suddenly read his films as arrogance, self-indulgence, and narcissistic entitlement, describing him as a “spoiled child.”  Yet his emotional acceptance speech at Cannes after winning the Jury Prize for MOMMY surprised many with its intelligence, eloquence, and heartfelt authenticity, paying a personal tribute to Jury President Jane Campion, whose poetic films have had a profound influence on his work, where their touching embrace remains one of the memorable moments of the festival.  

Dolan has always been more popular internationally than he is at home in Québec, where he became in right-leaning circles the face of unprofitable cinema and wasteful government spending, yet his talents as a filmmaker are undeniable, where his signature style exaggerates color and music, often changing film speeds, tinkering with melodrama, while utilizing eclectic musical choices ranging from classic to pop music, often providing the emotional heart and soul of his films, accentuating a strongly aesthetic approach, where his cinema is a whirlwind of unrestrained emotions putting us in closer touch with our deepest and most intimate feelings.  Dolan is probably overdue for a renewed evaluation, as this new generation has yet to see his films, and there have been no traveling film retrospectives delving into his career, but he’s only thirty-five, so his future is still wide open.  Besides a long-term collaboration with his cinematographer André Turpin, obviously playing a significant role in his visual aesthetic, Dolan has also utilized a coterie of recurring actresses and actors who have now become associated with him, most notably Anne Dorval and Suzanne Clément, with Dorval having a profound influence on yet another film (their 6th together) as the Larouche family matriarch, Madeleine, or “Maddy,” whose death in the opening segment sets the wheels in motion, where deeply buried secrets that have been long repressed for decades suddenly resurface.  Dolan provides a dizzying, stream-of-conscious narrative that continually goes back and forth in time, where writing for a 5-part, 5-hour television series is a very different style, perhaps modeled after David Lynch’s quirky small town drama Twin Peaks (1990-91), but like all his other films, extremely impactful.  While the action of the play takes place entirely in a funeral home, with the family gathered around, Dolan added the different time periods, characters, and locations in writing the adaption.  It’s like he’s layering 5 or 6 different storylines, just dropping little hints as we go, continually keeping viewers off-balance while building momentum and suspense, mixing elements of horror, humor, and drama, where it’s a unique experience, to say the least, and in a shockingly good way.  As an actor himself, Dolan has a talent for directing other actors, as it’s one of his biggest strengths, where this film seems to emphasize his fascination with strong female actresses who are truly exceptional.  Even the opening sequence that repeats in each episode is an absolute delight, with rousing music written by Hans Zimmer and David Fleming evoking a feeling of anticipated dread, The Night Logan Woke Up (Original Series Soundtrack) YouTube (1:20), setting the stage for a bit of droll fun and amusement, like a private eye whodunit, but it plays out quite differently, capturing the complex personalities of an ensemble family unit in two distinct time periods, becoming a before and after saga with profound implications.  In that regard it resembles Robert Altman’s superb adaptation of Ed Graczyk’s play, Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (1982), both driven by powerful performances, where Dolan’s films are about outsiders trying to fit in, while also carrying a traumatic image of latent homophobia in a conservative society that emerges over decades.

While this is Dolan’s television directorial debut, he tells deeply human stories with a unique voice, and this extended format allows him an opportunity to develop complex relationships in this edgy character study, literally breathing life into each one, where the different chapter headings allow for a teasing aspect to develop, as intentional cliffhangers are placed at the end of each episode, spurring interest to see what happens in the next serial installment.  Each segment opens with an innovative and cleverly imagined moment of dramatic intensity before the opening credits roll, like an appetizer before the main course, but it sets the stage in establishing mood and atmosphere, as Dolan literally drenches the screen with ominous overtones, plunging us into a world of darkness.  The family is nearly always depicted in a closely confined, claustrophobic setting, with a muted color palette casting a suffocating shadow over the household, while elements of surreal horror amplify daydream sequences, or instantaneous flashbacks, which are treated as an inescapable aspect of existing realities.  As Maddy lays on her death bed, she is surrounded by family and an attending nurse.  Slowly, each of the characters are introduced, each dealing with their own demons, as we come to realize these men are brothers, the oldest Julien (Patrick Hivon), arguably the most tortured, a former alcoholic who has returned to take college classes, Denis (Éric Bruneau), who seems to have a calming influence, though from a distance, while the youngest, Elliot, is played by Dolan himself, literally embodying the role of a man just released from a drug rehab center earlier in the day in order to be there, seen with red marks on his neck, perhaps signs of earlier suicide attempts.  Also seen in the foreground is Julien’s wife Chantal (Magalie Lépine-Blondeau in her third Dolan film), who is like a breath of fresh air in defying her husband’s callous indifference, while exhibiting astonishing range.  But there’s a moment before any of the family have arrived when Maddy is alone, as her attendant is out temporarily having a smoke, so she struggles in an effort to move on her own, but is seen answering the phone.  While we don’t hear the call, it produces devastating results, as she frantically searches through mementos from 1991, and is discovered in a disheveled heap on the floor in an agitated state, which later leads to the summoning of the family, as the end is near, but not before a flashback sequence takes us to happier times, suddenly quickening the pace, giving the film a fresher look and a brighter color palette.  14-year old sister Mireille, aka “Mimi” (Jasmine Lemée) and brother Julien (Elijah Patrice-Baudelot) are best friends with the neighbor next door, Logan Goodyear (Pier-Gabriel Lajoie), as both are on the same baseball team that just won the regional championship, while Mimi dreams of them one day running off to the United States together and “get the hell outta here.”  But Maddy is running for mayor (often referred to as the mayor that wasn’t), supposedly setting a moral example, while Mimi has insomnia, with a notorious habit of sneaking into the house next door at night, supposedly out of curiosity, yet it could lead to disastrous results, which, of course, it does, where the ominous implications recall Boo Radley, the mysteriously haunting next door neighbor in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird (1962).

At Maddy’s bedside, she openly pushes Julien’s hand away, not by accident, but intentionally, which makes little sense at the time, causing him immeasurable grief, especially because it comes at the very moment before her death, as if she’s literally scared to death by his presence.  In the empty quiet of the moment, Dolan produces what is arguably the most impactful scene of the film, using music as only he can, Rufus Wainwright - Quand vous mourrez de nos amours YouTube (3:33), which resonates long afterwards, creating a poetic sequence of staggering emotional devastation, reminiscent of a similar moment in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (1999), where each one finds themselves alone afterwards, lost in their own memories, somehow feeling alienated and disconnected from the world around them.  Then in something of an unexpected surprise, Mireille (Julie Le Breton), who’s been absent for nearly thirty years, suddenly walks into the funeral home to announce she intends to embalm their mother’s body.  End of chapter one.  Now that is drama.  One of the most extraordinary movies ever made for television remains Maurice Pialat’s The House in the Woods (La Maison des Bois) (1971), a 7-episode, six hour film that carries the depth and weight of a novel and remains an unforgettable experience.  It’s a similar feeling here watching the exact same opening and closing credit sequences, hearing the same music each time, as it recalls how it felt to let the density of Pialat’s film sink in, where you have a chance to catch your breath and reflect for a moment before the next chapter begins.  A very precarious balance is broken with the return of Mireille, not just for the family, who are not exactly friendly, people with multiple disorders, from drug and alcohol addiction to unhealthy or unorthodox sexuality, but also inflames the vitriol of the small-town community at large, as it brings to the surface painful memories, where lingering anger and distressing rumors still persist.  But it is Xavier Dolan’s virtuoso camera that plunges us into the past, as his attention to detail is exemplary, exploring old family conflicts, wasted ambitions, and unforgivable betrayals.  By masterfully linking the past with the present, the storyline gradually reveals the ambivalence of the characters, their regrets, and possibly even a path to redemption.  Dolan surrounded himself with an exceptional group of actors, with Patrick Hivon, Éric Bruneau, Julie Le Breton, and Magalie Lépine-Blondeau reprising their stage roles, adding Dolan’s favorite actress in the always amazing Anne Dorval, who is nothing short of bubbly in her role, and the director himself as a young man in an extremely fragile state of mind, as well as a talented group of young actors to play the featured characters as much wilder teenagers.  Given time to explore human complexity in all its hidden places, Dolan’s film literally bristles with life from start to finish in this intensely realized series, where there are dozens of stand-out moments that just jump off the screen, where some of the most compelling feature the music of Céline Dion - Regarde-moi (Live à Paris 1995) - YouTube (3:50) and James Blake’s adaptation of the Joy Division song Atmosphere YouTube (3:58), reaffirming that he’s one of the most talented directors of the 21st century, where the guy just doesn’t make anything that isn’t dazzlingly good.

The Night Logan Woke Up - YouTube (6:43)  Xavier Dolan and cast members Julie Le Breton and Elijah Patrice-Baudelot describe the experience of making the film

Xavier Dolan Picks 10 Greatest Films Of All Time

Friday, November 7, 2014

An Eye for Beauty (Le règne de la beauté)




Actor Éric Bruneau and Director Denys Arcand, mirror images
 







Abbaye Val Notre-Dame, designed by architect Pierre Thibault
 







Abbaye Val Notre-Dame, designed by architect Pierre Thibault
 

















AN EYE FOR BEAUTY (Le règne de la beauté)         B                     
Canada  (102 mi)  2014  d:  Denys Arcand

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself
Well...How did I get here?

Letting the days go by
Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by
Water flowing underground
Into the blue again
After the money's gone
Once in a lifetime
Water flowing underground

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife

Talking Heads - Once In A Lifetime - YouTube (5:41), 1980 song from Stop Making Sense (1984)

Quite unlike any other opening, the director prefaces this film with a few introductory remarks about Canada, his home, claiming it is the most peaceful nation on earth, that there has never been any wars fought on its territory, no revolutions, no leftist governments, and that from other people’s perspective, a routine uneventful life may seem boring in comparison, reflected perhaps in Canadian art, literature, and even films.  Shot over the course of a year in order to capture all four seasons to their fullest, Canada is known for their long cold winters, where life’s problems intrude here as elsewhere.  Whatever autobiographical claims this film may have, it feels a bit embellished, using something of a Hollywood hunk to play a much younger version of an artist (as a stand-in for the director), Éric Bruneau as Luke, a successful Canadian architect in his thirties living in Baie-Saint-Paul in the Charlevoix region of Québec in a spectacular home in the woods overlooking the St. Lawrence River that he designed himself.  Completing the dream and making it even more perfect is his ravishingly beautiful blonde wife, Stéphanie (Mélanie Thierry), who keeps herself fit as a sports instructor and a lover of all sports.  While they are an idyllic couple living the perfect life, their story is told in flashback where a much older Luke happens to run across a mysterious woman from his past.  More intrigue ensues.  The rhythm of the film, however, is built around the comforts of an upper-middle class bourgeois existence as part of a super sophisticate Québec elite, sharing meals with friends, including lesbian couple Isabelle and Melissa (Marie-Josée Croze and Geneviève Boivin-Roussy), accompanied by only the finest wines, where Luke drives a flashy red Thunderbird, sings in the church choir, while playing tennis, golf, hockey, hunting, or skiing (shot in slow-mo montage) depending on the season, and even finds time to grow his own pot in the nearby woods, imported, no less, from Humboldt County, California.  One begins to appreciate the opening remarks from Arcand, as this does begin to feel like the idyllic picture postcard version of Canadian living as reflected in a glossy magazine spread. 

Luke is invited to sit upon an architectural jury for a project in Toronto, joking to others that he needs the money while actually expressing a certain contempt, suggesting this is beneath his dignity, until he shares a private moment with another woman on the panel, the English-speaking Lindsay (Melanie Merkosky), who eventually invites him to come stay (sleep) with her in her cottage on Centre Island, the largest of the Toronto Islands, offering a skyline view of the city over the water, taking a short ferry to get there.  While she’s obviously more invested than he is, he nonetheless plays the part, obviously loving the idea of being pursued, where it’s in the code for gallantry, one supposes, that an honorable man never turns down a woman’s offer.  Perhaps more surprisingly, both profess their love while knowing little to nothing about each other.  Having already seen the sexy vivaciousness of his wife, both seen having sex in the nude on an isolated beach during a holiday camping trip, this seems like a step down into something far more conventional, as if it comes with the territory of aspiring artists, where there’s not an ounce of chemistry between them.  Still it’s a bit surprising that his view is to feel entitled, as this romantic escapade repeats itself in time, if only because he doesn’t have the moral fortitude to say no.  Adding to the dramatic arc, Stéphanie goes into an inexplicable swoon of depression where she literally loses her bearings, and even tries to throw herself off a ski lift in a panic attack.  In another off-kilter moment she throws herself at Melissa in a flurry of kisses, which she doesn’t exactly reject.  Nonetheless, despite this suicidal episode, the changing moods, and his wife’s spiraling descent into despair, Luke decides to play the gallivanting lover again when Lindsay is passing through Québec.  Because of the devastating deterioration of his wife’s health, one thinks he’ll have the decency to stay, but instead he behaves like a male in heat, giving little thought to the negative possibilities, choosing his own destiny based upon spur of the moment interests.  Arcand films this scene in the suspense thriller mode, offering ominous implications of what awaits him upon his return, as if his conscience is weighing heavily upon him. 

While it’s highly unconventional to present such a reprehensible portrait of male chauvinism, especially when combined with career success, as Luke’s professional career takes off during this period, but to the viewer, despite his Hollywood handsome good looks, he couldn’t be more unsympathetic and loathsome.  In contrast, however, he designs some of the most jaw-droppingly beautiful homes one has ever seen, with clean, modernistic interiors usually offering giant window views that coexist with the natural world outside, where he’s designed a dream house overlooking the river for one of his oldest contracting friends Roger (Michel Forget), but before he can live to appreciate it, the poor man learns he’s dying of cancer.  Luke spends many hours visiting him in a hospital corridor, where he’s not even assigned to a room due to overcrowding conditions, offering a devastating critique of the once highly lauded Canadian healthcare system, instead he withers away on a bed in a crowded hallway until he begs to be allowed to die in the beauty and splendor of his own home.  Because of the spectacular beauty of these meticulously designed homes, the film bears some resemblance to Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty (La Grande Bellezza), which captures the rapturous beauty of art, but also the callous emptiness of a human species that has lost the ability to appreciate its elegance and grandeur.  Arcand finds a similar connection between meaning and desire, drawing an appreciation for those people we love, and the things we own, showing a desire to possess both, where the elite sophisticated class loves to surround themselves with objects of beauty, including, as they get older, trophy wives on their arms, a reminder of their own lost youth, while striving for immortality by creating works of art that will stand the test of time.  By the end we discover the man is a serial philanderer, making a profession out of lying while concealing his secret affairs, for which there are few, if any consequences, supposedly the benefits of success, while he’s also the creator of some of the most astonishing masterworks of modern architecture.  Gorgeously shot by Nathalie Moliavko-Vistozky, including some rather stunning shots of the St. Lawrence River in the changing seasons of the year, Arcand uses buildings designed by Canadian architect Pierre Thibault, including a series of images shown over the classical piano music playing during the end credits of buildings that he designed, many of which are simply awe-inspiring.