Showing posts with label Anne Dorval. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Dorval. 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, January 1, 2021

2020 Top Ten List #7 Matthias & Maxime (Matthias et Maxime)





Director Xavier Dolan on the set









MATTHIAS & MAXIME (Matthias et Maxime)      B+                  
Canada  France  (119 mi)  2019  d:  Xavier Dolan

Using a more measured and restrained style, Dolan offers an unusual love story, told almost entirely by the power of suggestion, through oblique looks, lost concentration, and mishaps, where there’s a consuming need to talk about underlying hints of homoeroticism, yet the two entitled characters seem to be doing everything in their power to avoid the inevitable, as the film instead zeroes in on the zillion tiny things they do to avoid responding to their innermost burning desires, becoming sadly lost and melancholic.  Dolan’s trademark signature is written all over this film, accentuated by high-powered verbiage, dominant mothers, invisible fathers, changing film speeds and aspect ratios, while capturing the underlying discord in relationships.  The film it most resembles is 2014 Top Ten List #7 Tom at the Farm (Tom à la ferme), though without the Hitchcockian overtones, examining the repressive ramifications of avoidance, which in Dolan’s world is filled with cruelty, pain, humiliation, and unending loneliness, emotions normally associated with Fassbinder, but Dolan does it differently, throwing out the Sirkian melodrama, creating something more alienating and modern.  While equally as toxic, this film is more restrained, featuring Dolan’s fiercely independent style, filled with those signature moments that only Dolan seems to provide, what stands out in particular is an extraordinary, almost Sirkian use of classical piano music written by musical composer Jean-Michel Blais, Jean-Michel Blais - Le lac (Live / From 'Matthias & Maxime' Soundtrack) YouTube (3:13), becoming a stand-in for repressed emotions, recalling something the director said in an interview after he made 2015 Top Ten List #1 Mommy, where he claimed at the time, Xavier Dolan: ‘I’ve never experienced love as something calm and tender’.  Once more placing Dolan in front of the camera as one of the lead characters, again writing his own material, the film is a furious explosion of misdirection, where one is attuned to a personal longing, yet except for a few brief moments it is avoided altogether, with heartbreaking results.  What makes this different from his other films is that it features a group of male friends, who happen to be best friends of Dolan in real life, yet their group association is a paramount understanding of their own identity, reminiscent of RETURN OF THE SEACAUCUS SEVEN (1979), featuring a gathering of old friends at a lake house to celebrate a friend’s birthday, mostly smoking pot, yet each individual is part of a collective, which acts as a cohesive whole, featuring plenty of rapid-fire wit and insider jokes, where they routinely drink and play word games, laughing at the ridiculous moments when someone grows seriously reflective, which may be an attempt to separate themselves and form their own unique identity, but the group never lets them get away with it, teasing each other relentlessly, almost to the point of cruelty.  Dolan is Max, a working class bartender who’s leaving for Australia in two weeks, expecting to be gone for two years, so he has some trepidation about his impending departure, feeling even more anxious the nearer he comes to the expected day, told in chapters months before, two weeks out, a week out, and finally one day before departure, as there is so much unfinished business he must attend to before he leaves, so the pressure building on his shoulders is enormous.   

Matt (Gabriel D’Almedia Freitas in his first feature film) and Max have been best friends since childhood, yet they exert completely different personalities, as the more pompous and culturally privileged Matt works in the corporate world, dresses in suits, and exerts an air of confidence that can be viewed as arrogant superiority, though he often remains aloof much of the time, while Max is much more down to earth, easy going and likeable, exuding a sense of affable charm, while displaying vulnerability and an open concern for others.  Rarely confrontational (except with his mother), Max gets along with just about everybody, but is especially relaxed and comfortable around Matt, easily fitting in with his more rowdy group of friends, while Matt may be outgrowing many of them.  What gets things started is Matt’s rude habit of correcting people, growing very anal with his verbiage and correct pronunciations, where he gets called on it, but refuses to believe, going so far as to make a bet with the host of a group outing, Rivette (Pier-Luc Funk), subject to video confirmation, which proves he did.  The terms of the bet are not announced until afterwards, with the loser having to perform in a one-minute scene from an experimental film Rivette’s younger sister is making, which she amusingly describes as a blend of expressionism and impressionism, taking a poke at Dolan’s own unconventional film style.  Erika (Camille Felton) is that typically annoying younger sister, speaking a kind of Valley Girl dialect, Québécois French mixed with English, which drives her brother up a tree.  Max has already volunteered, but what the two don’t realize is that the shot consists of the two men kissing.  While playing coy, pretending none of this matters, as it’s only a bet, the impact of the kiss, which is never shown, reverberates throughout the rest of the film, sparking hidden desires and feelings neither one realized they had.  While they had kissed earlier in high school, each has a differing recollection, with Matt claiming to have forgotten it altogether.  Yet it’s Matt who’s perhaps most affected, struggling to focus afterwards, losing his concentration, allowing his mind to wander, missing out on a promotional opportunity being handed to him through sheer disinterest.  While this is not really a gay film, though some may view it that way, as it certainly explores internal conflicts that gay people routinely experience, actually normalizing the gay experience, but it’s more about unrequited love, remaining undeveloped and repressed, as neither one wants to admit what they actually feel, finding it hard to concentrate on anything else, going to great lengths to avoid each other, attempting to bypass the obvious.  The beauty of this film is that it stays under the surface, like a subliminal work, using body language, quick glances, and noticeable screen space to express the unchartered emotional abyss.  Among the more riveting scenes show Matt awakening early the next morning, going out for a swim on the lake, with the hidden emotions expressed by dramatic piano music that seems to accelerate into a furiously probing intensity, eventually losing direction, ending up on the other side of the lake, having to make a Herculean effort just to make it back safely.  This near-suicidal sense of physical and emotional exhaustion are prominent themes throughout Dolan’s work, as his characters find themselves alienated, caught up in confusion, detoured, sidetracked and disconnected from reality, often forced to endure threats and physical hardships, expected to do the impossible, having to summon deep reserves of emotional strength just to survive.    

Once again Dolan turns to actress Anne Dorval as his dysfunctional mother, a role she’s played since his acclaimed first film I Killed My Mother (J’ai Tué Ma Mère) (2009), displaying her typical neurotic routine, though here, displaying gigantic mood swings, most likely exacerbated by alcohol and a history of substance abuse, she is closer to a psychotic danger, both to herself and to others, repeatedly threatening and humiliating her son, violently striking him, then mocking him, sarcastically calling him a cowardly little girl when he walks away from her after an intensively violent episode, with Max acting as her legal guardian, paying her bills and providing in-home care and supposed stability, yet she’s such a headache, starting each day with a cigarette and a can of beer.  Max has to transfer guardianship to his aunt before he leaves, which threatens his mother even more, taking it out on her son, using his face for target practice.  There’s another unspoken aspect to the film, as Max has a facial birthmark on one side of his face, yet no one mentions it, but it’s a sign of personal shame and embarrassment.  In a bathroom segment, he looks at himself in the mirror and there is no birthmark, envisioning himself as he’d like to be seen, but it’s only in his imagination.  Much of the film plays out like that, accentuating personal moments that keep shifting between the lead characters, adding a degree of intimacy, often enlarged through the musical selections.   Among the more humorous moments, Rivette is seen deftly playing a classical masterpiece on the piano as many of his mother’s friends arrive for a party, Franz Schubert, Impromptu No. 4 A-flat, D. 899, Alfred Brendel YouTube (7:01), their group constantly chatting, paying little attention, eventually moving out of the room, with Rivette glaring into the camera and asking the existential question, “Who am I playing for?”  Few directors interject pop music with the ease of Dolan, who has always had his pulse on youth culture, providing a pulsating energy, made even more effective by Dolan’s jarring edits, where the transitions between scenes are often electrifying, Looking for knives / Matthias & Maxime YouTube (6:05).  Shot by André Turpin, Dolan’s regular cinematographer since TOM AT THE FARM (2014), he infuses the film with blazing colors and a smoky hue, with the two characters finding themselves caught up in the moment, finally acting upon their innermost impulses in a downpour of rain to the sounds of Phosphorescent - "Song for Zula" (Official Audio) – YouTube (6:10), seen from the outside through a tiny window, yet even then, caught up in a rush of emotion, the scene never plays out as expected, interrupted by a change of heart, where recurring doubts offer a disturbing commentary on affection, “And then I saw love disfigure me into something I am not recognizing,” finding it more than Matt can handle, who’s too straight-laced to see himself otherwise.  Yet it’s his cruelty that seems most apparent, at one point describing Max as an “ink stain.”  While it’s Dolan’s film, most of the anguishing internal struggle belongs to Matt, where self-realization is something he simply does not possess, curiously lacking an ultimate grasp of reality, living a lie, while admitting to nothing, shielded by emotional paralysis and one’s own unfathomable delusion, where the fear of losing control seems to be the driving motivation.  The open road represents something different to each man, with Max craving the idea of freedom, while Matt dreads the loss of a friend, both dancing around each other’s emotions, choreographed as a series of near misses, both immersed in a restless anxiety that defines the film.  With soul-wrenching honesty, the film explores every avenue of deflection, every escape, where the sweetest moment is Max’s discovery of a drawing Matt made of the two of them at the tender age of seven, remarkably genuine and openhearted, which expresses who they were and who they would always be, if they could only figure it out, running into roadblocks and complications that continually deter them from realizing their dreams.