Around a Small Mountain (36 vues du Pic Saint Loup)

 

Director Jacques Rivette

Rivette with Jane Birkin and Sergio Castellito

Birkin and Castellito

Rivette with Jane Birkin

Rivette and Birkin from Love On the Ground (1984)

Jacques Rivette

AROUND A SMALL MOUNTAIN (36 vues du Pic Saint Loup)               B+                              France  Italy  (84 mi)  2009  d: Jacques Rivette

All of our dragons are really princesses waiting for us to free them.                                        —Jean-Luc Godard, probably stolen, of course

A pensive film that offers a philosophical view on creativity and the meaning of life, one that suggests every creative thought has the potential for change, to offer the world something new, which has a healing or beneficial value that wasn’t there before it was expressed.  This small film may be a metaphor for the director’s own personal testament, as he’s been a filmmaker of the first order for nearly half a century, known for his lengthy and ponderous films, but also for bringing a literate maturity to the French New Wave, where he was one of the original founders who also wrote extensive film criticism essays for Cahiers du Cinéma, an artist with the dual role of making but also critiquing and analyzing films.  Always something of an outsider whose independence of vision could be breathtaking, his style, including the length of time between films, never fit into conventional genres.  Even his initial film, PARIS BELONGS TO US (1961), shot on weekends with no money and no sets on donated or leftover film stock, makes extensive documentary style use of the city itself, revealing the city as a living force, but also uses a maze-like narrative to create a world where characters enter, then disappear, often without a trace, in much the same way that thousands of strangers enter our perception and consciousness every day, only to disappear without a trace.  Rivette seems haunted by memory in much the same way, as its easy to lose sight of the importance of things, where time has a strange way of shifting our priorities.  This is a film that looks back, that dwells on the lingering effect of regrets that have a crippling way of accumulating weight over time, but also looks straight ahead with an almost naïve and childlike fascination in anticipation of what new ideas will be discovered and how they may change the direction of our own lives.  Rivette is a Renaissance man whose films have been intellectual and cultural markers through the years, where his role has been planting the seeds for new generations to come.  But at this stage in his life as one of the oldest living filmmakers, he may have a tendency to look back and see how the world around him was shaped and formed and what part he played in it. 

Always at home in the theater, using a stable of actors who lived and thrived under his leadership, Rivette was never afraid to tackle the great classics, but seemed more interested in exploring with great curiosity the fickle and strange nature of human relationships.  Not only actors, Pascal Bonitzer, former writer for André Téchiné in the 80’s, has now, along with Christine Laurent, collaborated with Rivette in writing his films for the past twenty years, showing great familiarity as well as staying power, Bonitzer since LOVE ON THE GROUND (1984) and Laurent since THE GANG OF FOUR  (1989).  Rivette has indicated that the idea for this film came to him while making LA BELLE NOISEUSE (1991), a nearly four hour extravaganza consumed with the nature of painting, and features a similar curiosity about the effect and influence of art.  Of interest, Jane Birkin starred in that film, but they haven’t worked together again until this film, perhaps the shortest in Rivette’s career, where she returns to her small, family run circus after an absence of a decade or more, a broken down venture that might seem more appropriate in the era of Fellini’s LA STRADA (1954).  The film opens with a curious little scene of Birkin stranded alone along an empty stretch of highway, her car with the hood up, where she attempts to flag down another car for help, but it drives right by only to return, where the driver of a fancy convertible sports car gets out, checks a few wires and connections and immediately gets her car working again, exiting without ever saying a word, all captured in a single shot.  The economy utilized here feels effortless.  Later they meet again in a small nearby town where she invites Vittorio (Sergio Castellito) to the circus, where he is one of only a handful of customers, but takes great pleasure first in choosing his seat in a near empty arena and then in the charm and antiquity of the comical clowns routine, the only one to laugh heartily, which endears him, of course, to the actual performers.  Vittorio decides to spend a few days just hanging around, attempting to spark a conversation with Birkin, whose mind lies elsewhere, so instead he develops a wonderful rapport with Alexandre (André Marcon), exploring the endless variations of his clown routine. 

From behind a closed curtain, the performers enter in silence, always through the exact same curtain.  Throughout the course of the film we see a constant repetition of this same act, which begins to feel like a newborn birth, as each time a performer steps out in front of an audience, it is for the very first time.  Rivette shows a variation on several routines, just changing them slightly, but also adds new ones, which seem to be whatever each individual actor could learn over a short period of time, where despite the artificiality of a theatrical act, it always has an improvised feel to it.  At one point, the performers enter and re-enter that same curtain speaking directly to the camera, one after another, in a rapid fire montage of proverbial expressions, each declared like some sort of battle cry.  This reminds us that it is the theater, that nothing is real, yet something of consequence and meaning comes out of it, something that may influence our lives.  The same goes for the performers, as while they go through the stage routines which have a claustrophobic air about them, they also live out their lives under that same stifling confinement where there are no secrets, as everyone knows everybody else’s business.  In this way Vittorio gets drawn into Birkin’s private life, but only from a distance, by what he hears from others around her.  Still, he offers his own voice as to small, possible changes in the routines which might improve them, as if he’s somehow become the voice of the art critic.  This strange interplay between performers, an actual family, and an audience that provides feedback, provides a strange kind of symmetry that becomes electrically charged when working together that none would have on their own.  This is the nature of art, that it doesn’t exist in a vacuum, where someone continually offers some new variation that’s never been done before, which has an impact in people’s lives, even those who helped create it.  Almost impossible, by the way, not ot think of Fellini’s miraculous final scene in 8 ½ (1963).  This is a wonderful little film that has a strangeness all its own, as characters literally walk in and out of the screen and each other’s lives seemingly at will, coming and going, always moving in and out of a world defined as much by their past experiences as whatever the future may bring.  For Rivette, the future is a performance that has never been seen, as if it’s his frail voice speaking personally, as there must be many projects that hold his attention that age, declining health, and time simply won’t allow him to experience.  But performers continue to step out from behind the curtain, and the world awaits every new inspiration. 

Jane By Charlotte

 

Director Charlotte Gainsbourg

Gainsbourg with her mother Jane Birkin

Gainsbourg on the set

Jane Birkin

JANE BY CHARLOTTE         C+                                                                                           France  (88 mi)  2022  d: Charlotte Gainsbourg

The idea is to see you as I never have before, or have dared to see you.  Filming you with a camera is basically an excuse just to look at you.                                                                          —Charlotte Gainsbourg to her mother

Something of a mother/daughter valentine between Jane Birkin and her daughter Charlotte Gainsbourg as Birkin nears the end of her life, writing a definitive postscript, which is mostly a glorified home movie that pales in comparison to Chantal Akerman’s No Home Movie (2015), which documents her mother’s final days and is a more avant garde cinematic endeavor, but both are to be commended for airing in public such personalized expressions.  No backstory is provided, so for the most part you need to already be familiar with the family history, feeling like an insider portrait, which it is, but this may be alienating to many viewers who aren’t already aware of that storyline.  In some ways inspired by the unflinching documentary Grey Gardens (1976) by Albert and David Maysles, yet the focus is almost entirely in the present, as both women seem like they’ve lived privileged lives, where celebrity and fame have allowed them to live comfortably, with all their needs provided for, yet their conversations together never provide any real depth of emotion or intellectual curiosity, as Charlotte seems to know very little about her mother’s current life, retracing pieces of Birkin’s life, but for the most part it lacks substance and complexity, where you might think this diary-like personal tribute was a vanity project made for no one else but the two of them.  It certainly lacks the playful spirit of Varda’s JANE B. PAR AGNÈS V. (1988), one of three films they made together, which cleverly captures Birkin’s anxieties about turning 40, a whimsical effort exploring her diverse personality that exudes fun and creativity, yet Charlotte hated the film, as a film crew was encamped in their home for the better part of a year when she was just 16, certainly putting a damper on her teenage social life.  With no mention whatsoever of Birkin’s acting career, or that she became a French fashion icon, it’s worth mentioning that she worked with Bertrand Tavernier, Alain Resnais, and even Hong Sang-soo, while also starring in Jacques Rivette’s final film, Around a Small Mountain (36 vues du Pic Saint Loup) (2009), having worked together in four films, including LA BELLE NOISEUSE (1991), so she has worked with and been surrounded by other great artists.  Charlotte Gainsbourg is perhaps best known for working with Lars van Trier in films like ANTICHRIST (2009), winning the Best Actress award at the Cannes Film Festival, Melancholia (2011), and Parts 1 and 2 of Nymphomaniac: Volume 1 (2014).  Both also have careers as popular singers, following in the footsteps of Gainsbourg’s father, French singer and songwriter Serge Gainsbourg, an iconic figure in French pop, with Birkin having a 12-year creative and romantic partnership with him, though he’s 19-years older, where at the time she was completely uninhibited about taking nude photos, becoming internationally famous in 1969 following their sung, spoken, and whispered duet song Serge Gainsbourg ft. Jane Birkin - Je t'aime...Moi non plus ... YouTube (4:25), which reached number one in the UK, the first foreign-language song to do so, originally written two years earlier for former lover Brigitte Bardot, but given a re-emphasized sexual allure with overtly erotic lyrics, including plenty of heavy breathing and orgiastic moans from Birkin that were deemed so offensive that the song was banned from the radio in Spain, Sweden, Brazil, Great Britain, Italy, and banned before 11 pm in France, while also thoroughly denounced by the Vatican.  According to Birkin, both found it all terribly amusing, with Gainsbourg calling the Pope “our greatest PR man.”  In France, both remain revered, larger than life public figures, where their fame is considerable. 

Birkin, born in London during the grim postwar period of rationing, initially emerged from the youth-driven Swinging London Mod Scene of the 60’s, making a brief appearance in a controversial nude scene as a blonde model in Antonioni’s BLOW-UP (1966), but found fame singing in French, relocating to France permanently by the end of the decade despite not speaking a word of French, eventually acquiring French citizenship.  Charlotte was also born in London, but raised in Paris, growing up on film sets, as both parents were involved in the film industry, winning a César award at the age of 14 for Most Promising Actress for her role in Claude Miller’s AN IMPUDENT GIRL (1985), making her musical debut in 1984 at the age of 13 with a scandalously creepy song that many believe glamorizes pedophilia and incest, Charlotte Gainsbourg & Serge Gainsbourg - Lemon Incest ... YouTube (5:10), a duet with her father, where he actually climbs into bed with her.  So this family is not without controversy.  Nonetheless, making the film offers Charlotte an opportunity to be closer to her mother, referencing a notebook with questions to ask her, but it’s clear Birkin is used to being the center of attention, a position she’s found herself in for nearly her entire lifetime, so her willingness to acquiesce to her daughter’s creative whims also allows her an opportunity not just to be a collaborator in her artistic venture, but to spend time with Charlotte for perhaps the very first time in her daughter’s adult life.  While it may seem like an instant love affair, catching up on the empty spaces and hidden corners of their lives, allowing them to just chat as mother and daughter, the film went on hold for two years after Charlotte asked a single question, with Birkin finding it too intrusive, as if she was being blamed for the family ills, but eventually she came around, as she misconstrued Charlotte’s intentions, where this is mostly a tender portrait of what it’s like having a famous parent, while also gathering insight into this latter stage of her life.  Using a combination of a 16mm Bolex camera for outdoor shots, occasionally employing a telephoto lens, while also snapping photos of her with a small Leica, there’s an intimacy and an unfamiliarity with each other, acknowledging there’s always been a shyness and a sense of reserve between them in a way that doesn’t exist with her other children.  Birkin freely admits, “You were very intimidating.  I felt privileged to be in your presence.”  Joining her mother in Japan for a performance of Gainsbourg’s songs, backed by an orchestra, seen hand-drawing self-portraits that she hands out as autographs, the film also takes them to a rooftop overlook of New York City, Charlotte’s childhood home on the Rue de Verneuil in Paris where they lived with Serge (Rue de Verneuil and the former house of Serge Gainsbourg), which has been left virtually untouched since his passing in 1991, which Birkin hasn’t set foot in for thirty years and is now a museum, where nothing has changed except the graffiti strewn on the front of the building, while also traveling the French countryside in search of a new puppy, yet the most luxuriant time is spent at Birkin's impressive coastal residence in Brittany’s northern Finistère.  The cutest thing in the film is Charlotte’s precocious 10-year old daughter Jo Attal, who brings a breath of fresh air, usually seen munching away on food, where just being a kid adds a refreshing element to what can at times feel like a morbid exploration just prior to death, as it anticipates her mother’s departure, reminiscent of Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell (2012), a memory piece that goes in search of her own mother who died of cancer when she was just eleven years old, crafting a valentine remembrance for a woman she knew all too briefly.

There are a flurry of quickly shot photographs, as Gainsbourg is improvising, adding a contemporaneous element, along with walks on the beach where there are attempts to be self-reflective, but much of the conversations border on the banal, never really offering something we haven’t seen before.  Perhaps the most haunting aspect is the use of home movies shown on the wall, with Birkin in darkened silhouette sitting in the foreground as images of the past are projected across her body, an example of memories that she carries literally playing out before her eyes.  It’s an interesting device of mixing mediums, with Charlotte asking her mother to comment on what she sees, but it becomes too personal and too painful, as the spirit of some who are no longer with us becomes too much to bear, so she’s forced to look away.  In some respects, there are unseen ghosts lingering, as the film is haunted by the presence not only of Serge Gainsbourg, but also Kate Barry, the eldest daughter that Birkin had with her first husband, composer John Barry, who suffered from an addiction to drugs and alcohol since she was a teenager and died in 2013 at the age of 46 under mysterious circumstances, as she fell from the window of a 4th floor apartment in Paris, where there is speculation it was a suicide.  This kind of selective memory from a dark domain affects all of us as we age, reinventing different versions in our head, where we tune out material that is simply too harrowing, reminiscent of soldiers who never talk about their wartime experiences with their children.  In a kind of eye-opening moment of clarity, Birkin acknowledges “Varda was right.  You must capture the present,” though Varda’s films were about so much more.  This idea of living in the present, however, letting go of the past, and not waiting for the future has a kind of Zen meditative aspect to it, as the emphasis on the present moment is perhaps Zen's most distinctive characteristic.  Birkin does ponder the changes that occur to the body during aging, which coincides with a desire to shed her image of beauty in order to be taken more seriously as an artist, as she opens up about her life-long insomnia problem, and her sleeping pills addiction that she’s had since a teenager.  This is a particularly uncomfortable section, like a portrait of depression, conveying her insecurities in a confessional manner, acknowledging she is anxiety-ridden, and has been for a long time, as she’s simply not able to shut off the brain, continually re-examining what could have been, playing out those possibilities over and over in her mind.  She also can’t throw things away, even old batteries, and calls it a sickness, so her home is a cluttered stockpile for collectibles, where nothing appears organized, but things are strewn around in a haphazard manner.  Good luck trying to find anything.  Fortunately, she knows on some level that nothing is lost, but to another degree nothing is found as well.  Perhaps surprisingly, there is little glamor in their lives, living as quietly and unpretentiously as possible, which is not always the case for people who work in the creative arts, so there’s a refreshing transparency in their relationship that may not have existed beforehand.  At times illuminating, this is also challenging, where the music is easily the least compelling aspect, using a stripped back style and an unconventional approach to its subject, where the question is whether any of this is effectively transferred to the audience.  Is this a lasting piece of art that will cement their legacy, or is it just a love letter from a daughter to her mother?  In 2002, Birkin received a diagnosis of leukemia and underwent various cancer treatments, as the lingering disease continued to cause health challenges, including a mild stroke two years ago, eventually succumbing at the age of 76 earlier this year, just a year after the film was released.  According to French President Emmanuel Macron, he described Birkin as a “French icon” and a “complete artist” who “bequeaths us tunes and images that will never leave us.”