DOWN BY LOVE (Éperdument) D+
France Belgium (110 mi)
2016 ‘Scope d:
Pierre Godeau
It’s surprising how far the mighty have fallen, as just
three years ago, actress Adèle Exarchopoulos, along with co-star Léa Seydoux,
both made history by being given a Cannes Palme d’Or, the first instance that
it was awarded to the two lead actresses as well as the director for Abdellatif
Kechiche’s award winning film Blue
Is the Warmest Color (La Vie d'Adèle, Chapitres 1 et 2) (2013), becoming the
only women besides Jane Campion to have won the festival’s top award. As there was some fallout after the
announcement with the actresses claiming they were bullied on the set,
complaining the director’s style was sexually abusive, making them feel like
“prostitutes,” it’s perhaps not surprising that the director has not worked
since and has no planned films in the works, where it appears he’s been
blacklisted by the industry. Both
actresses, on the other hand, have worked steadily. But if this is any indication of the material
chosen by Exarchopoulos, who in 2014 was voted Most Promising Actress in the
French César awards, her career is on a downward descent, as this film is
something of a disgrace, with the worst offensive being it’s pretentious and
sexually exploitive. While it’s basically
a prison B-movie, where in America a prestigious director like Jonathan Demme
began his directing career making a Roger Corman produced women’s prison exploitation
flick called Caged Heat (1974), leave it to the French to take it completely
seriously, where the young actress has shown little growth in her role, but
instead retreats to familiar grounds where in the most sexually explicit scenes
she once again takes her clothes off.
While she’s a beautiful young woman, the problem is there’s little else
worth talking about, as the film otherwise exposes a lackluster indifference
and is one of the least engaging films seen all year. While not impressed with Nolwenn Lemesle’s Pieces
of Me (Des morceaux de moi) (2012), a very average earlier film Exarchopoulos
made prior to working with Kechiche, this film is actually much worse, and
while her performance is not the primary cause of embarrassment, it does leave
plenty of doubts about this actress’s ability to carry a film.
Adapted from the autobiographical book Défense d’aimer by Florent Gonçalvez, the former director of the
French Versailles prison describing his scandalous 2011 affair with an inmate,
most will find the movie version incredulous, especially the pernicious
behavior of the prison director, whose obsessional behavior is so out of line
that it’s difficult to take his actions seriously. Bogged down by the shoddy work of a director
that refuses to make a single scene inventive or interesting, instead it’s a
routine, by-the-numbers scenario that would describe the kind of predictable
social drama screened on television on a nightly basis with Exarchopoulos once
more assigned a role largely playing to the male gaze. Much like David Fincher’s Gone Girl
(2014), which is infinitely more interesting than this, but both are the stuff
of relatively light reading airport novels that accentuate salacious
material. In this film, viewers may
squirm in their seats and grow uncomfortable not from any build-up of suspense,
but from how emotionally dull and inert the characters are with one another,
where there’s simply no sexual chemistry to justify such a major risk, in this
case destroying a marriage, a family, and a career, where the audience has to keep
asking themselves—for what? Anna Amari
(Exarchopoulos) is seen arriving at a new prison facility, where she’s being
transferred to be closer to her mother, Marie Rivière from Rohmer’s Le
Rayon Vert (Summer) (1986) and An
Autumn Tale (Conte D’Automne) (1998).
Receiving the standard new girl treatment, she’s called a variety of
offensive names, becoming the target of vicious attacks, eventually forced to
defend herself, where enemies are established early on. Unlike real prisons, however, this one is
exceedingly quiet, with prisoners often seen roaming the hallways without any
guard present, where this film actually suggests there is a great deal of
privacy to be found inside prison compounds.
Enter Jean Firmino (Guillaume Gallienne), who is initially viewed as a
social worker. There is nothing in his
character to suggest he is anything more, as one never suspects he runs the
institution. He’s middle-aged, happily
married, and has a young daughter who seems to idolize him. A visit to his daughter’s school confirms
that he is viewed more as a civil servant than an authority figure.
Firmino takes an interest in Anna’s case, helping to prepare
her for her upcoming trial, with the film leaving out any backstory about her
supposed crime. We never learn what she
is convicted of, but surprisingly spends four years in prison even before her
sentencing, about half of her time, where she’ll still be under age 25 by her
expected release. Firmino, on the other
hand, is likely to be in his forties, so there’s about a twenty year age
difference. Nonetheless, Firmino
continually arranges private time for Anna, though it’s not really all that
private, as guards deliver her for every visit, though she’s often left alone
on the premises completely unguarded afterwards, and would have to be
considered a security risk. What’s
perhaps most preposterous, yet so decidedly French, is the assignment of
dramatic texts for the prisoners, where Anna is being taught Racine’s Phèdra, a 17th century ancient Greek
mythological play written in Alexandrine verse where the lead character is
driven to incestuous desires, a victim
of her own impulses, consumed by jealousy and guilt afterwards. However, in her family, descended from the
Gods, morality is not really an issue, where death remains the ultimate
tragedy, as well as the accompanying fall from grace. A blunt reminder of what’s in store, there’s
nothing subtle about this over-hyped drama, moving quickly into acts of sexual
taboo, where neither one seems the least bit phased by the potential
consequences, showing no conscious whatsoever as they plunge headlong into a
scandalous affair, often unable to tell illusion from reality, becoming the
talk of the prison, as they spend so much time together. Even Firmino’s wife (Stéphanie Cléau) knows
exactly what’s going on, but does nothing to stop it. While it’s more of a cheap and tawdry melodrama
without an ounce of passion anywhere, perhaps the only reason to stick around
is to see if it will ever end, as it seems to go on forever, where the degree
of risk borders on spectacle. Nothing, however,
can resuscitate this film from the drivel it descends to, a sick power game
with no real balls to speak of, as both apparently lose their minds to an
obsession that they foolishly delude themselves into thinking is love. It crossed my mind that one possible ending
may be both imprisoned for long durations, holed up in cells at the same
facility in different compounds separated by gender, with a view of the other
across a spacious courtyard, where they could go on imagining one another while
stuck in their own inescapable purgatories.
A much better directed version of this is the flamboyant sexual
indulgence of Christophe Honoré’s MA MÈRE (2004), a bombastic adaptation of the
Georges Bataille philosophical novel that contrasts base sexuality with the
divine, striving for transcendence through complete sexual indulgence. This pathetic little misfire is a pale
comparison and a candidate for worst film of the year. Surprising that this was chosen for export, but
hopefully it won’t ruin anyone’s career.
