Showing posts with label Valentin Hadjadj. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valentin Hadjadj. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 13, 2023

Close


 

















Director Lukas Dhont


Lukas with executive producer brother Michiel



The director on the set with Émilie Dequenne

Dhont directing a scene




























CLOSE                       B                                                                                                            Belgium  Netherlands  France  (104 mi)  2022  d: Lukas Dhont

I was looking for a sense of hopefulness, that we can take that armor off and allow people to see the parts that are broken.                                                                                          —⁠Lukas Dhont, Lukas Dhont on making sense of tragedy in Close   

An unqualified tearjerker that lingers long afterwards, this is a coming-of-age story of a child friendship gone wrong, and innocence broken, resulting in a full-blown tragedy.  Premiering at Cannes where it shared the Grand Prix (2nd Place) with the most recent Claire Denis film, Stars at Noon (2022), it is reminiscent of an earlier Icelandic film that played on similar themes, Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson’s Heartstone (Hjartasteinn) (2016), a gay love story that also went terribly wrong, though some may be perplexed by a continuing trend that any depiction of a gay character always has to end in tragedy.  Dhont is an openly gay Belgian filmmaker whose previous film Girl (2018) is a provocative piece surrounding the gender dysphoria of a transgender ballerina, while this film explores even younger kids who are best friends, seemingly living carefree lives during the long summer months, idly spending their days playing together, using their imaginations to invent fantasy scenarios, comfortable enough to have regular sleepovers, where each is integrated into the other’s family, without a thought in the world about anyone else.  This is the world of pre-adolescence, as Léo (Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (Gustav De Waele) are two 13-year olds with an unbreakable bond, where there are no limits on their friendship, including an open display of affection, often sleeping next to one another in the same bed, where they are not in the least bit self-conscious, helped along by the performances of two gifted actors who bring their own personalities into the room.  There is nothing to be read into this, with the director offering no indication of any sexual orientation, as neither one views it as anything out of the ordinary, with their respective families feeling the same way.  Dhont apparently met young Eden Dambrine on a train ride, ultimately offering him an audition after watching his facial expressions from a few seats away, where those expressions offer a cinematic window into his soul.  Léo’s family runs a rural flower farm, where his mother, Léa Drucker, from Xavier Legrand’s 2017 Top Ten List #7 Custody (Jusqu'à la garde), father (Marc Weiss), and older brother Charlie (Igor van Dessel) do most of the hard labor, spending their time cultivating the soil and harvesting the flowers, getting their hands dirty, with Léo escaping from that harsh reality, mostly avoiding work altogether as the two kids run wild through an Edenesque rural countryside (Dhont grew up close to a flower farm in the Flemish countryside), while Rémi’s mother Sophie, Émilie Dequenne, best known for her starring role in the Dardenne bother’s ROSETTA (1999), is as affectionate with Léo as her own son Rémi, describing him as “my heart’s son,” treating him like a member of the family.  Interestingly, the mothers of both boys remain their best friends, viewing them simply as they are, not how they want them to be.  Being a Belgian filmmaker, the near flawless execution most closely resembles the stylistic social realism of the Dardennes brothers, notable for having won two prestigious Palme d’Or awards at Cannes for ROSETTA (1999) and L’ENFANT (2005), giving this film a cinéma vérité documentary style where the narrative is advanced by the physical actions of the protagonists, with the camera having a love affair with their faces, following their every move, making them the centerpiece of the film, where visual compositions and wordless moments are accentuated to express underlying emotions that are too difficult to rise to the surface, allowing viewers to assess the meaning.    

As he was writing the film, Dhont found a source of inspiration in NYU developmental psychology professor Niobe Way’s 2011 book Deep Secrets: Boys’ Friendships and the Crisis of Connection, drawn from hundreds of interviews with adolescent boys of various backgrounds (Ask an Academic: The Secrets of Boys), discovering boys are often distraught about losing the closeness of earlier friendships, where the rates of suicide among boys in the hyper-masculine culture of the United States jumps to four times the rate of girls.  Changes in late adolescence occur because cultural pressures to become “a man” are intensified, buying into the notion that they need to suppress their emotional side to avoid being perceived as gay or effeminate, as effeminate traits become a subject of mockery, ultimately led to believe romantic relationships take precedence over friendships.  As with their earlier film, this was written jointly by Dhont and theater director Angelo Tijssens, shot by Frank van den Eeden, beautifully capturing the rhythms, sequencing, and exquisite framing, where tracking shots are particularly effective, with another delicate score by composer Valentin Hadjadj, while the director’s younger brother Michiel is an executive producer.  The film mirrors the darker overtones of Céline Sciamma’s Petite Maman (2021), particularly the duality of the friendship, while also echoing the languid summer moments from Tomboy (2011), a rhythm of motion film where something is lurking just beneath the surface.  Inspired by his own childhood and teenage friendships, where gay kids and teenagers are unsure of their own sexuality, some viewers may be completely unaware of any LGBTQ implications and may simply view this as melancholic territory, yet the film will likely play differently to gay viewers, as they more easily recognize themselves being treated as outsiders, while the film has a way of connecting to desire, to identity, though it is subtle enough that it may not make any difference, as the question of whether there is a romantic context plays only a subordinate role.  Nonetheless, when the kids return to school, they are happily placed in the same class, yet social pressures cause a strange turn, as their closeness is suddenly placed under a microscope, creating something of a stir, where a girl quizzically blurts out, “Could I ask you something?  Are you together?  Are you a couple”  This seemingly innocuous question changes the entire trajectory of the film, as intimacy is immediately sexualized, with Léo quickly growing defensive and dismissing the notion, while Rémi stays quiet.  In another random incident, someone can be heard calling Léo a “faggot,” or asking if he’s on his “period,” homophobic slurs causing alarm signals to go off in his head, suddenly aware of how others perceive him.  Questions of toxic masculinity suddenly flood the screen, creating a fissure in their relationship, with Léo seeking other interests, developing a friendship with Baptiste (Léon Bataille), who encourages him to join the hockey team, something he never shares with Rémi, hanging out with a different group of friends, where all they talk about is football and sports, while eying his friend from afar.  Their routine habits are significantly altered, no longer bicycling home or hanging out so much, and when they do, it quickly grows uncomfortable, getting into shoving matches, though neither can put into words what they’re feeling, so instead they remain edgy and standoffish, where that dreamlike summer idyll becomes a distant memory.  Hockey becomes a symbol for masculinity, which Léo does not take to naturally, as it becomes a struggle, but he persistently keeps working at it.     

Approaching a subject that would have been taboo in previous generations, the filmmaker is interested in exploring the pitfalls of male relationships in early adolescence, where the world around them can help shape who they become, for better or for worse.  Even with loving families around them, the trajectory of each boy is decisively different, as Léo tends to suppress and deny the bonds of friendship, calculating a socially acceptable future that conforms with the conventions of the mainstream, while Rémi takes a different path, finding it more difficult to just pretend that friendship doesn’t exist.  Léo is like a brother to him, welcomed into his family, where spending time together feels natural.  To suddenly be rejected for seemingly no reason really stings, yet the focus of attention remains on Léo, who’s in nearly every frame of this film, so viewers can only imagine what Rémi is going through, as the director chooses not to share it.  Rémi may have a more sensitive side, as he plays the oboe in a local orchestra, allowing Léo to watch him while he practices, while his room is painted red, a striking color tone with suggestions of sensuality, as Dhont accentuates color in this film, where the fields of flowers are especially vibrant, but this is mere symbolism.  His mother seems overly sensitive as well, working as a nurse in a maternity ward, as she is genuinely loving and affectionate, playfully seen joining the kids having fun during the summer, where there are really no discernible differences between them, as there are no built-in walls, instead she expresses a feeling of acceptance, remaining completely in the dark about the changing dynamics between the teenagers.  But the direction of the film centers around the way the socially conditioned aspect of Léo’s life changes, impulsively distancing himself from Rémi, hanging around other boys, spending more time at home, suddenly taking more interest in helping the family harvest the flowers, where no questions are really asked.  In many ways this resembles the same dynamic of the two longtime friends in Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees of Inisherin (2022), where one simply moves in a different direction without telling the other, causing internalized emotional frictions that only lead to tragedy, as the cruelty of the world intervenes.  While the same thing happens here, the violence is substantially different, as these are just kids, yet that aspect makes the ultimate tragedy even that much more impactful, yet what’s most heartbreaking is how it’s become normalized.  Although this film has received universal acclaim, it is not without its own problems, as the outcome feels overly predictable, where the structure is designed to prolong any emotional reaction for as long as possible, so it is delayed, and delayed, feeling overly manipulative, continually tugging at the heartstrings.  That’s not to say there isn’t a sense of restraint, as there is, especially in the developing tenderness between Léo and his older brother Charlie, who serves as a substitute for Rémi, but this is a slow burn into an emotional abyss that we see coming, yet the impact is still devastating.  To the filmmaker’s credit, the streamlined execution of the narrative style sets the stage for the ultimate finale, using a less is more formula to all but guarantee there won’t be a dry eye in the house afterwards, feeling more than a little cathartic.

Friday, June 9, 2023

Girl






 














Director Lukas Dhont

Dhont with Victor Polster

Victor Polster

Dhont with Victor Polster



Angelo Tijssens, Victor Polster, and Lukas Dhont




















GIRL              B+                                                                                                                      Belgium  Netherlands  (105 mi)  2018  d: Lukas Dhont                             

I don’t want to be an example.  I want to be a girl.                                                                          —Lara (Victor Polster)

A somewhat radical work inspired by the life of trans dancer Nora Monsecour, born male with aspirations of becoming a ballerina, it initially screened in the Un Certain Regard section at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival with Monsecour in attendance, where it received a standing ovation that lasted through the entirety of the credits, winning the Camera d’Or award for best first feature film, also winning the Queer Palm, while 15-year-old actor Victor Polster won the Un Certain Regard Jury Award for Best Performance.  This is a deeply moving and in-your-face portrait of the travails associated with gender conversion, where hormone therapy and the anticipation of gender reassignment surgery accentuate not only the physical challenges, but the existential duress of having to wait, which becomes overly suffocating, underscored by the overly restrained performance of Polster, perfectly capturing her repressed inner thoughts and feelings, where she even gets bullied by the other girls, who have an advantage, as they’ve always been a girl, so they feel comfortable in their self-identity, while a woman in transition is flooded by anxiety and self-doubt, where nothing ever feels right, forever waiting to just feel comfortable in your own body.  The film has faced some heavy criticism because the main character isn’t played by an actual transgender, fueled by trans critic Oliver Whitney’s alarmist guest essay from The Hollywood Reporter, describing the film as a “danger to the transgender community,” claiming the film has a “disturbing fascination with trans bodies,” focusing on a dramatically impactful scene near the end, describing it as sadistic exploitation, basically trans trauma porn for uneducated audiences, echoed by Northwestern Gender & Sexual Studies professor Nick Davis in Film Comment, who believes the film is part of a long history of cruel, transphobic storytelling, Short Take: Girl, finding the voyeuristic finale unforgiving, Nick-Davis.com: Girl, Cathy Brennan from BFI Sight and Sound thinks it accentuates fears, (It's winning awards, but Girl is no victory for trans ...), Caden Mark Gardner from Reverse Shot (Girl) thinks the film is potentially harmful in its “abhorrent irresponsibility,” Tre’vell Anderson from Out magazine claims it’s a missed opportunity to properly contextualize the experience, (Netflix's 'Girl' is Dangerous and Doesn't Deserve an Oscar), while further skepticism is voiced by K. Austin Collins from Vanity Fair (There's No Good Reason to Watch Belgium's Controversial ...), expressing outright anger in the reckless way the trans experience is overly traumatized, with a collective view finding it dangerously self-destructive while bordering on transphobic.  Clearly the film has polarized the gay and trans community on which it focuses, yet Dhont has weathered the criticism and steadfastly defended his “right” to tell the story, where there’s nothing erotic or fetishized in his style, while Monsecour responded to Whitney with her own guest essay (Belgium Oscar Submission 'Girl' Is a “Message of Courage”), writing that “those criticizing Girl are preventing another trans story from being shared in the world, and are also attempting to silence me and my trans identity.”  While the criticisms are valid and should not be overlooked, they feel like a distinctly American reaction, excessively harsh, fixated on rendering judgment, as if there’s a “right way” to contextualize the trans experience, yet there are more benefits to this film than is suggested.  This film does not attempt to speak for everyone, but provides an authentic character–driven narrative that’s applicable to one person’s search for identity, which is beautifully realized, serving as an example to a young director, courageously believing a trans story deserved to be heard, offering a unique window into an experience that viewers would not otherwise have, which couldn’t be more relevant.   Despite having a loving and supporting family, encountering difficulties is the norm, with nearly half of transgender and nonbinary youth in America considering suicide in 2022, and just under one in five attempting suicide (the numbers are higher for people of color), which is exacerbated by anti-trans laws that outlaw literature, art, histories, and even health care, a sentiment raging through the Republican Party in America at the moment, introducing more than 400 anti-trans bills already this year in an attempt to legislate them out of existence. Republican legislative leaders in Montana, in a strictly party-line vote, just voted to banish Democratic Rep. Zooey Zephyr (ZoAndBehold - Rep. Zooey Zephyr), the state’s first transgender legislator, from participating in the legislative session on the House floor, barred from all debates, prohibited from entering the chambers until the end of the legislative session, relegated to a bench in the hallway and will only be allowed to vote remotely, Montana Republicans bar transgender lawmaker from House floor for rest of session.  There is no sense that this film in any way shapes that political argument, which is motivated purely by transphobic hatred, yet this deeply humane film does offer an immersive psychological perspective that may help lead to a more educated and openly empathetic viewpoint, shedding light on a subject that has long been ignored. 

It should be noted that Lukas Dhont is an openly gay filmmaker who embraces LGBTQ themes, having worked as a costume design assistant on film and television sets when he was a teenager while his mother works as a fashion teacher at an art school.  Still in the closet when he entered film school, with a younger brother Michiel who’s also gay, he had his own experiences making that transition into being himself, describing that period in his life, “Not only about my sexuality, I was just also not myself.  I think I had created this armor to protect me.  One of my teachers said, ‘You don’t seem to have a personality.’  She was so right.  I had become this collage of other people’s personalities.”  Discovering his own identity after watching Belgium filmmaker Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce,1080 Bruxelles (1975), he immersed himself into the works of gay filmmakers Céline Sciamma, Xavier Dolan, and Pedro Almodóvar, and there is an intimacy to the film that evokes the near documentary style of Sciamma’s Tomboy (2011), with an original score by Valentin Hadjadj, 22D Prod / Valentin Hadjadj - Flying (From "GIRL" Original ... YouTube (3:17).  Written in collaboration with theater director Angelo Tijssens, taking ten years before bringing this work into fruition, their real objective was to make a film about gender dysphoria that transgenders could identify with, as there are so few films they can connect with, one of the few being Sebastián Lelio’s A Fantastic Woman (Una Mujer Fantástica) (2018), which features a remarkable performance from a transgender actress.  It should also be pointed out that Nora Monsecour, who worked closely with both Dhont and Polster on the film, was “really offended” by Whitney’s comments, especially those that invalidate her experience with suggestions that Dhont made the film out of his cisgender perspective.  In an interview with indieWIRE (Girl: Netflix Film Stirs Controversy Over Who Owns Trans ...), she clarified that “My story is not a fantasy of the cis director.  Lara’s story is my story,” and while it isn’t a biography, “the essence of the story is the same.”  According to Monsecour, she was similarly bullied, and had teachers who “didn’t believe that transgender was something that existed in the world,” eventually moving away from ballet into contemporary dance.  She has enthusiastically endorsed Polster’s performance, acknowledging, “In one of our first conversations, I said to Lukas that I didn’t care at all if the actor was male, female, transgender, lesbian, gay.  For me, it was very important that Lara… be played by someone who had a lot of love and empathy for the character, [and] was also a very good dancer.  When I saw pictures of Victor, I thought to myself, ‘this is it, he is it.’ ”  The film follows Lara (Victor Polster), a 15-year old trans girl and aspiring ballet dancer who is frustrated that her hormone therapy isn’t working fast enough and that her body is different from the other girls in her class, constantly checking herself in the mirror, becoming an intensive exposé of her inner conflict and her struggle for self-acceptance.  To dance as a woman requires en pointe skills (Pointe technique), only taught to girls, so Lara is years behind, yet to dance professionally she needs to be accepted into a highly competitive girls’ class at the prestigious Royal Ballet School in Antwerp, with additional one-on-one time needed from a private instructor, played by the real-life Belgian choreographer Marie-Louise Wilderijckx.  Featuring extensive footage of physically demanding classes, Lara is both in her element and out of it at the same time, blending in beautifully with a group of extremely talented young dancers, yet the meticulous steps she takes to tape her male genitals to her body has its costs, placing her body through additional stress, enduring more pain than the others, which accumulates with each session, preferring to use a private restroom afterwards, remaining isolated as she removes the tape, leaving behind nasty red marks.  Interspered are regular visits with a team of sex reassignment doctors, including psychiatrist Dr. Pascal (Valentijn Dhaenens) and surgeon Dr. Naert (Katelijne Damen), who evaluate her readiness for the procedure, requiring multiple evaluations, always accompanied by her father (Arieh Worthalter), and while consistently offering encouragement, she’s obviously frustrated at the length of time it takes before scheduling the surgery.  Making matters worse, she refuses to discuss her feelings with her father, always indicating everything’s fine, though she’s rapidly losing weight from the grueling rehearsals and enveloping anxiety.  

Lara never conveys the emotions bubbling under the surface and struggles to maintain an even disposition, but there are moments where a line is crossed.  She has an affectionate relationship with her younger brother Milo (Olivar Bodart), often falling asleep in her arms, and while there’s an absent mother, there are indications this is a loving and supportive family.  Rushing to get Milo ready for school one morning, her little brother is uncooperative, forcing Lara to dress him, but he rebuffs her attempts, angrily calling her Victor, the male name she was born with, creating a deafening pause that seems to last an eternity.  Never one to overreact, she keeps her emotions in check, but she’s devastated by the cruel intent coming from such a loving source.  Complicating matters, Lara is going through adolescent puberty, encouraged by her psychiatrist to explore her romantic inclinations, as that’s something she needn’t put on hold, suggesting she’s just like anyone else in this regard.  There’s a neighbor in her building that interests her, Lewis (Tijmen Govaerts), so she cleverly choreographs chance meetings, hoping her attraction will open up new opportunities, yet as things get intimate, she hesitates, terrified about being exposed, and ends up bolting out of fear.  While she’s led to believe she already is a woman, and who she wants to be, she’s just not there yet.  While she is surprisingly accepted at school (reflective of Belgium’s progressive social tolerance), allowed to use the woman’s restroom with no issue, not really standing out, the same can’t be said for how she’s viewed by the other female dancers, who are more than a little curious about her male anatomy, and while the girls shower together after class, Lara always disappears, which only heightens their growing suspicions.  One of the dancers openly confronts her, handing her a towel, leaving her no avenues of escape, so she joins the other girls while wearing shorts in the communal shower, yet it clearly pains her to be there, choosing to be off to the side, while the others joke around and talk amongst themselves like teenage girls.  This leads to a sleepover, where she’s led to believe she’s been accepted as one of the girls, yet she’s offered separate living quarters away from the other girls, an ominous sign, but then she’s cornered by a dozen women and bullied into exposing her male anatomy, causing great distress, fleeing in embarrassment afterwards, arriving home unexpectedly, surprising her father who’s with another woman on an apparent date, which just elevates the awkwardness of the moment.  The tension only escalates, as her doctors are concerned by the breakdown of body tissue from her continual taping during dance rehearsals, something they don’t recommend, as the possibility for infection increases over time, which will further delay her plans for surgery.  The emotional trauma is really exposed in this film, as Lara feels more and more like a stranger in someone else’s body.  When she takes her doctor’s advice and dances without the tape, the anxiety it causes is overwhelming, which affects her ability to dance, losing her balance and sense of self, where it’s a struggle to make it through the lesson, sweating profusely, something she never does.  This becomes an excruciating ordeal that borders on psychological horror, veering into the grotesque, a metaphor for the disturbing territory of suicidal impulses that are taking over, becoming a calamity of epic proportions, reflecting the reality of the experience where so many have lost their lives because they could not accept themselves.  While it is never an issue whether a trans women is able to perform with her biological counterparts, the psychological toll it takes is simply overwhelming, exposing her darkest thoughts, where it can become insufferable after a while.  Filming by Frank van den Eeden is mostly done with hand-held cameras, often shot in close quarters, emphasizing a feeling of being cramped and claustrophobic.  It’s a moving and highly accomplished portrait of the difficulties associated with any transgender realignment, told through a social realist lens, where the obsession with the human anatomy is especially applicable in the world of ballet, as the human form expresses the artistic vision in a relentless pursuit of perfection, with the film offering a real sense of the physicality of ballet and the toll it takes on Lara’s body.  The isolation she experiences is accentuated by what’s uniquely different about her, where the harrowing journey is about struggling to find acceptance, learning to love yourself, offering hope for those struggling through similar circumstances, with the director meticulously taking viewers through the depths of the experience.    

watch dancer Nora Monsecour perform YouTube (2:24)