Trenque Lauquen

 

Director Laura Citarella

Citarella with Laura Paredes

TRENQUE LAUQUEN        A-                    93                                                                     Argentina  Germany  (262 mi)  2022  d: Laura Citarella

Academia doesn’t prepare you for sadness.                                                                                  —Rafael (Rafael Spregelburd)

A highly ambitious work, an immersion into a literary universe that you’d swear was adapted from a novel, as it plays out that way onscreen, filled with a long and rambling, nonlinear narrative style of storytelling, screening in two parts, not sure why, apparently a distribution issue, as according to the director it is meant to be seen in one viewing, where unlike Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir Pt’s I and II (2019, 2021), each half does not stand alone, featuring stories within stories and flashbacks within flashbacks, where the heart of the journey set in and around the Argentinean city of Trenque Lauquen (Round Lake in the Mapuche language) remains elusive, as it plays out like a mystery novel.  The film feels completely original, though it’s not so much about what happens, but how, accentuating the clever ways the story unravels, centered around various secrets and revelations, becoming larger and even stranger than we could have imagined.  Listed at #1 on Cahiers du Cinéma: Top Ten Films of 2023, and #2 on Sight & Sound Poll: Erika Balsom: Best Films of 2023, the film is told in 12 chapter headings over the course of four and a half hours, with only a handful of featured characters, yet there’s something uniquely captivating about this sprawling epic, reminiscent, perhaps, of Jane Campion’s 7-episode, made for TV miniseries 2013 Top Ten List #9 Top of the Lake, but this feels much more abstract and experimental, lingering longer with each character, adding a more meditative element.  One of the co-founders of the independent film collective El Pampero Cine, including Mariano Llinás, Alejo Moguillansky, Agustin Mendilaharzu, and Citarella herself, where the members collaborate and work on each other’s films, owning their own equipment, refusing to apply for state funds, making low-budget films, with Citarella part of a collective that makes puzzle films, moving through a variety of genres and styles, alternating from verbose exchanges to deep silences, following a Latin American tradition of Argentinean filmmakers like Lucrecia Martel, Pablo Trapero, and Lisandro Alonso that can often feel undramatic, but intense, offering a sense of adventure and mystery with a literary twist, where it is as much about storytelling as it is filmmaking.  Citarella served as a producer on the 13-hour episodic film LA FLOR (2018), ten years in the making, the longest film in the history of Argentine cinema, where the director Mariano Llinás was Citarella’s professor at the Universidad del Cine film school in Buenos Aires, describing his student as “proactive and fearless.”  Having grown up in the municipality of Trenque Lauquen, with the camera sensually exploring various locations there, including a recurring image of the sign that leads into town, Citarella has crafted a different kind of love story that is at times a detective caper, comedy thriller, sci-fi mystery, and romance, evolving into something completely unexpected in the second half, yet even then remains a mystery throughout.  It’s literally a puzzle piece, a box of unexplained clues, morphing from one idea to the next, where each individual viewer may get a different take on what they believe is happening, evoking a continual sense of curiosity, where there’s something undefinable that continually stands out, as seeing and listening are essential components to this unique cinematic experience, where every revelation gives birth to a new mystery, each narrative engenders a new narrative, very close to Wojciech Has’ THE SARAGOSSA MANUSCRIPT (1965) and Raúl Ruiz’s MYSTERIES OF LISBON (2010), whose films were both adapted from literary classics.  Despite the extensive length of the film, there is no easy resolution, with a shift towards an increasingly somber atmosphere, growing more contemplative near the end, where embracing the mystery is an end in itself.   

Six years in the making, arguably a sequel to her earlier film OSTENDE (2011), continuing the exploration of female subjectivity through the same protagonist, also called Laura, where the director’s goal may be to realize “a series of films in which the same figure leads different lives in different cities in the province of Buenos Aires,” as it stars and was co-written by Laura Paredes, the partner of Mariano Llinás who also played one of the main characters in LA FLOR, with both Paredes and Citarella experiencing pregnancies while writing the film, with the issue of motherhood becoming a key element, offering a distinct women’s perspective.  Appropriately, then, the film opens with two bewildered men searching for a missing woman named Laura (Laura Paredes), obviously inspired by Antonioni’s L’AVVENTURA (1960), while Otto Preminger’s film noir Laura (1944) also begins with a missing Laura, all sharing the same hidden obsession, with both men apparently in love with her, yet each intentionally conceals their own private thoughts and personal motives from the other while only sharing the obvious details of the search.  The older boyfriend Rafael (playwright and director Rafael Spregelburd) seems to take charge, having professionally been her professor at a university in Buenos Aires, as Laura was a botany student recently engaged to the professor, who is still holding a position open for her there, aided by a stoic local driver named Ezequiel (Citarella’s husband Ezequiel Pierri, also a producer), a Trenque Lauquen city hall coworker who transports her to her field research assignments, having recently grown very close, both men withholding essential truths, rivals vying for the affection of the same woman.  At first everything seems linear and unambiguous, but the more we learn, the less we know.  When Laura disappears without a trace, leaving Ezequiel’s borrowed car at a gas station, both men have unanswered questions, following up on various leads and clues, featuring plenty of conjecture and speculation, where everyone seems to hold a different idea of her, but it gets them nowhere, leaving viewers equally baffled, feeling as if she’s a mirage, but never really suspecting foul play, yet the prevailing sentiment is that there’s more to the story that we’re not seeing, where it may be that these two men are incapable of seeing that their own shortcomings may actually be the cause for her disappearance.  In other words, they may not be reliable observers, as they only see things through a self-serving male filter, which comprises the first half of the film.  It’s only after we ditch these two guys that the film shifts to Laura’s perspective, finding ourselves in flashback mode, as we begin to realize that she’s the real star of the show, as Laura, too, is an investigator, where the basis of her investigation is identifying and classifying plants, discovering a new species of flower, while also preparing for her radio show on emancipated yet forgotten historical women, turning into a completely different mindset, where it’s more about her curiosity, with the film continually probing underneath the surface, seeing what she sees, feeling what she feels, where nothing is ever shown directly.  In something of a parallel story, she and Ezequiel share another secret, becoming obsessed with researching another woman who disappeared fifty years earlier, whose correspondence Laura only recently discovered carefully hidden in dozens of books found in the city library, informing him, “I think I’ve become the only witness of a little mystery.”  Digging this up, like an archaeological expedition, forms the heart of the picture, a story with long flashbacks or time jumps that are configured as the present, where it’s the journey itself that matters, as the answers may not be as fulfilling or as satisfying as the search, where the entire film may be read as a mysterious existential odyssey for some unnamed personal objective.      

In David Lynch’s TWIN PEAKS (1990), the question continually posed is “Who killed Laura Palmer?” while here it is simply “Where is Laura?”  At one point, a woman raises the question, “What makes you think that Laura wants to be found?”  According to the director, much of the impetus for the film comes from Virginia Woolf’s 1929 novel A Room of One’s Own, a comment on women’s lack of free expression, concluding “I much prefer this idea of ​​women weaving a web to that of a ‘feminine’ spirit existing as an impermeable thing.”  Amplifying that idea is Laura’s discovery of erotic letters by the mostly hidden identity of Carmen Zuna (played by the director, with Pierri as her lover) dating back to the 1960’s, initially found hidden in a copy of The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman by the revolutionary Russian feminist writer Alexandra Kollontai in the mid 20’s.  It’s only after the men fade away that new alliances and new enigmas appear, including a mythological discovery of some unclassifiable mutant, perhaps even an amphibious child (we never set eyes on it) found in the town’s lake, which is secretly cared for by a lesbian couple, Elisa (Elisa Carricajo) and Romina (Verónica Llinás, Mariano’s sister), and kept out of sight in a locked room of their house, literally altering our perception of the rational world, another example of the extraordinary use of cinema to use fiction to shape reality.  Essentially a road movie that delves into psychological states of mind, with multiple stops along the way, each one more mysterious than the next, there are exemplary choices of music that mirror those mental states, like the Sergio Leone spaghetti Western--sounding Trenque Lauquen Soundtrack OST YouTube (8:16) composed by Gabriel Chwojnik, but also the recurring song Los Caminos YouTube (2:06) by Miro y su Fabulosa Orquesta, a song Ezequiel frequently listens to while driving, sounding a bit like a Spanish-speaking Lou Reed, or the celebratory folk anthems of Violeta Parra’s Si Te Hallas Arrepentido YouTube (2:18), who was part of the progressive movement of the Communist Party in Chile, while Laura’s ringtone in both this film and OSTENDE (2011) plays Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds, Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds (Official Music Video) YouTube (3:54).  While paying homage to Argentine literary traditions, with its expansive Jorge Luis Borges-style storytelling, what we ultimately discover is finding liberation in being lost, where that may be the intended desire, to literally let go of all things familiar and seek an entirely new path, where the road to the horizon is seemingly limitless, resembling that final sequence of Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master (2012), where freedom in this case is in the disappearance, like Homer’s The Odyssey or Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, finally open to all of life’s possibilities, with a desire for adventure and emancipation, examining the sensation of feeling incomplete, something we’ve all experienced at some point, allowing new instincts to be utilized and explored, which are essential for personal growth.  Using a series of slow and meandering long shots captured by Agustín Mendilaharzu, where the aspect ratio stretches to widescreen in the final sequences, this is a film of collected stories, each one containing a kernel of truth that feels ambiguously open to interpretation, with no clear and rational explanation, yet somehow it all comes back to Laura Paredes, who has an unusually strong screen presence throughout the entire film, as we continually wonder what’s driving her in an apparent quest for personal freedom, making this a decidedly feminist work.  As the film delves into futuristic, sci-fi possibilities, incorporating historical and fantastical elements, the real mystery is that nothing is ever resolved, where the desires and motivations of Citarella’s women are an unknown even to themselves, that life remains an enigma which is more often than not misunderstood, with very few directors having the courage of conviction to make a film as fearless as this, essentially a manifesto of a new form of artistic language, an expression of a cinematic ideology based on great formal freedom, literally embracing the inherent mysteries of life, treading into territory previously explored in transcendent films by Jacques Rivette in Céline and Julie Go Boating (Céline et Julie vont en bateau) (1974) and Claire Denis in The Intruder (L’intrus) (2004).  

TRENQUE LAUQUEN (LAURA CITARELLA, 2022) ENG ...  entire film in Spanish with an English subtitle option on Vk Video (4:21:50)

2024 Top Ten List #9 The Beast (La Bête)

 

Director Bertrand Bonello

Bonello on the set with Léa Seydoux

THE BEAST (La Bête)          A-                                                                                              France  Canada  (146 mi)  2023  d: Bertrand Bonello

The first idea was to do a melodrama, which is something I’ve never done before, and that drove me to a short novel by Henry James called The Beast in the Jungle.  For me, it’s one of the most heart-breaking, beautiful, and awful stories you can imagine.  I wanted to mix this with some genre [elements], because, in James’s novel, love and fear are so related.  So I wanted to have some ‘fear’ scenes,  and there is almost a slasher movie inside this film.  The other thing, that came quite quickly, was the desire to do a film, for the first time in my life, in which the main character is female.           —Bertrand Bonello

One of the better films exploring the boundaries between fiction and reality, revealing just how elusive reality can be.  Bonello, who is also a professor at the prestigious La Fémis, is a French director whose films deal with provocation, the difficulty of human relations, the anguish of living, the sexual condition, and abstraction, from the opulently beautiful House of Tolerance (L’Apollonide – souvenirs de la maison close) (2011) to the misguided radicalism of the selfie generation in Nocturama (2016).  Yet it’s his first film, the rarely screened SOMETHING ORGANIC (1998), that really stands out, made for $100,000 and shot in just 15 days, where especially memorable is a woman’s inexplicable journey to the farthest northern region in Canada, where she’s the lone female in a sparse makeshift town enveloped in snow next to an oil rig on Hudson Bay, where all that’s open is a drinking establishment, expressed in extreme quiet, where she eventually has a drink with every guy in town, leading to staggering consequences.  While that is a minimalist aesthetic, this massively ambitious effort is a riveting, two-and-a-half-hour mind-altering, sci-fi adaptation of the 1903 Henry James novella The Beast in the Jungle (which can be read in its entirety in less time than it takes to view this movie), a cautionary tale where a man refuses to love as he’s overcome by a belief that something horrible will happen, so he puts his life on hold, postponing everything, entering a metaphoric waiting room, until it becomes apparent that his anxious-ridden withdrawal from life *is* the monster he’s been avoiding.  But this is no literary adaption, as the director instead expands upon his own wildly inventive themes, mixing classical and contemporary, switching the gender to a female perspective, as we are immersed into the life of a woman named Gabrielle Monnier (the utterly fabulous Léa Seydoux, a once-in-a-generation talent with astonishing assurance and range) spanning three different time periods, each referencing a timeline of emotions through real-life historical catastrophes, the flooding of Paris in Belle Époque France in 1910, a period when fears and emotions are completely repressed, a Los Angeles earthquake in 2014 when they are overexpressed and overwhelming, and a placeless, dystopian future of 2044 when they are totally absent, as artificial intelligence has taken over the world.  In each time period she bumps into the same man in her life, Louis Lewanski (British actor George MacKay in a role initially envisioned for Gaspard Ulliel, to whom the film is dedicated, who died tragically in a ski accident in 2022), where her connection to him is clouded in mystery and intrigue, yet she is intrinsically drawn to him.  Like a time-travel story, reminiscent of the largesse and ominous feel of Chris Marker’s La Jetée (1962), they are destined to find one another through space and time, consumed by the deep-seated terror that some strange, horrible unknown is about to obliterate her, where that fear prevents either of them from realizing who they want to be.  Curiously, there is another film adapting the same Henry James novella, Austrian filmmaker Patric Chiha’s THE BEAST IN THE JUNGLE (2023), taking place in a nightclub awaiting an impending apocalyptic event.  Rejected by the Cannes Film Festival, it instead premiered in Venice and has played the festival circuit.  Structurally, the closest thing this resembles is Michel Gondry’s ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004), especially the erasure of memory, as in the future humans are viewed as a useless burden, where emotions are perceived as a weakness and a threat to a productive society, leaving only menial jobs available, nothing that requires any intelligent aptitude, so in hopes of obtaining a better job (they cross paths during interviews), Gabrielle reluctantly undergoes a DNA purification procedure that will wipe out her strongest emotions, described as “affects,” in an effort to find a more fulfilling job while keeping pace with more productive AI counterparts in the workforce.  But in doing so, she experiences flashbacks to previous lives, each containing traumatic memories.  Written by Bonello with contributions from Guillaume Bréaud and Benjamin Charbit, even composing his own musical score with his daughter Anna, this is a wild ride of a movie with constantly shifting time periods, mood alterations, and atmospheric shifts, with brief snippets from Harmony Korine’s TRASH HUMPERS (2009) thrown in for good measure, also Xavier Dolan (one of the producers) as the Alphaville (1965)-like AI voice of a computer, where very little is actually explained for viewers.  Veering into moments of horror, the entire film is embedded in a baffling enigma of bewilderment, something of a mindfuck of a movie, a sensory surprise, but in the best possible sense, as it’s an eerie and positively transfixing experience, where the title may actually refer to the fear of love, or the ferocity of unrequited love in a Sisyphean cycle of missed opportunities through the strands of time, potentially leaving one imprisoned in the purgatory of Sartre’s hellish No Exit, forever denied the essence of our own existence.  Even the end credits are shrouded in secrecy, as they are hidden behind a QR code, leading to an audience of smartphones pointing at the movie screen, revealing the credits and perhaps even an unseen sequence, before the lights come on in the theater.  The end.  But the end of what, you may ask?        

Using melodrama in a world that’s largely emotionless is not an easy thing to pull off, yet it’s handled deftly, as the filmmaker is directly involving the audience, making sure they feel the totality of the deeply unsettling experience.  Having worked with this director twice before in ON WAR (2008) and SAINT LAURENT (2014), Seydoux feels completely comfortable and at ease around him, having the freedom to explore on camera, as she has a very instinctual approach, sharing a common artistic vision, developing a firm belief they are collaborators.  Inspired by a crippling fear of the unknown, Bonello transposes the loneliness and fatalism of the source novel into a postmodern world obsessed with eliminating any connection to feeling anything at all, where there’s a core of anxiety running through this movie.  In our struggle against loneliness, we are oftentimes our own worst enemy, creating imaginary obstacles that stand in our way in order to justify our perceived failures.  While never actually specified, the world of the future has experienced some sort of natural disaster, possibly biological, as no cars are seen, no presence of social media, and no social life at all, while people on strangely empty streets are wearing protective face shields, with AI leading humanity into a newer, safer existence, where humans are expected to purge their flaws and weaknesses in order to conform to a more ordered and robotic future.  While some have suggested this film takes on the same grandiose scope as the Tom Tykwer and Wachowski sister’s sci-fi spectacle Cloud Atlas (2012), constantly moving backwards and forward in three different time frames, but that does this film a disservice, as it’s not anything like the jumbled mess of that film, displaying much more originality, told in an intensely personal manner that is uniquely challenging to viewers, seen through the eyes of a single character, where it’s the power of Seydoux’s extraordinary performance that compels viewers to stick around through the lengthy duration.  French-Canadian cinematographer Josée Deshaies, the director’s wife, is in complete command, providing the exactitude of Kubrickian compositions, including extreme close-ups, while also giving expression to the unspeakable.  The earlier historical period was shot on sumptuous 35mm, giving the screen a sensual texture, while the other sections were shot on digital, providing a stark contrast of sterility and coldness.  In the opening prologue sequence an actress is asked by the offscreen voice of Bonello, “Can you get scared by something that’s not actually here?”  She is then seen performing before a green screen in a horror movie, given specific instructions of what to do when the camera rolls (Ironically, Seydoux has largely avoided CGI scenes in her career choices, working almost exclusively in arthouse cinema).  In an empty room she screams, moves around, picks up a knife, and imagines herself confronting an unidentified beast, where the bare-bones nature of the minimalist set forces viewers to imagine the scene playing out in their minds before it happens, setting the stage for images and abstract ideas that follow.  It’s then over an hour or so before that scene actually appears in the movie.  It’s a clever device that works beautifully, where her instructions to scream recalls Fay Wray’s rehearsal instructions for a dreaded encounter in King Kong (1933), both terrified at the sight of some unseen beast, having absolutely no idea what it is, yet viewers can tell immediately that they’re in good hands, as this is a director who can navigate our journey through the unexpected, where it’s an exhausting yet fascinating aesthetic, not really like anything else we’ve seen.  That opening scene gives notice that the film is really about Léa Seydoux, as Bonello wrote it for her, and she is the driving force of the film.  Gabrielle is a virtuoso pianist in turn-of-the century Paris, gracious, well-mannered, and immaculately dressed, seen wandering around a museum-like setting at a high society party with champagne flowing as she strikes up a conversation with the elegantly dressed Louis, cutting a dashing figure in his tuxedo, admiring a series of paintings that she describes as “Violent, psychiatric, and rather beautiful.”  He then reminds her they met years ago when she somewhat drunkenly confided to him a startling fear, making him the only other person aware of her secret, recounting the conversation almost exactly, where he promises the utmost confidence in protecting her, a pledge she does not take lightly, impressed by how he so accurately remembers the precise details after the passing years, as it obviously made an impression on him, The Beast (La Bete) new clip official - Venice Film Festival 2023 YouTube (1:32), yet that fear of something terrible happening prevents them from fully consummating their love.  This rekindling of passion, however, which doesn’t exist in her overly safe marriage, suddenly coincides with taking a big risk.  Like a manifestation of her own fears, Paris is suddenly submerged in water, where a plan to escape together goes terribly awry, yet produces some of the most extraordinary images of the film. 

Combining elements of sci-fi, melodrama, horror, and romance, the film accentuates the intense loneliness and disconnection that has become a fixture of contemporary life, which is especially prominent in the English-speaking Los Angeles section, meeting at a retro-themed disco that changes musical styles by specifically chosen years, where Gabrielle is a model and aspiring actress house-sitting in a thoroughly modern glass mansion in the Hollywood Hills, while Louis is an angry man, a 30-year old virgin who only has sex in his dreams, consumed by an unrelenting hatred of women.  We see him literally stalking Gabriella from his car, planning a home invasion while broadcasting his misogynist manifesto live on YouTube, promising to punish women for not having sex with him, claiming he is “the perfect gentleman,” and that women who deny him sex are committing “reverse rape,” views that are so absurdly extreme they carry a bleak hilarity in their mocking commentary, yet his grandiloquent pronouncements are chillingly real.  The 2014 incel version of Louis, Incels (Involuntary celibates), is based on Eliot Rodger (Elliot Rodger: How misogynist killer became 'incel hero'), who killed six people and injured 14 others near the Santa Barbara campus of the University of California on May 23, 2014 before shooting himself in his own car.  Even the shattering experience of an earthquake fails to bridge the divide, as our young protagonists are brought together on the street afterwards, but there remains an eerie underlying discomfort, Clip: The Beast (Janus Films, Sideshow Films) YouTube (1:25), giving rise to scenes that resemble the car slasher mode of David Fincher’s ZODIAC (2007).  Whenever they encounter each other, a disquieting passion lingers between them, as she’s drawn to a version of him that seems to exist only in her head, yet the transformation of Louis is especially fascinating, unexpected, and highly disturbing.  In their initial encounter at the beginning of the film, he remarks, “Fulfillment lies in the lack of passion,” an astute observation that seems to accurately describe a sentiment felt throughout this film.  Even in 1910, when offered the opportunity to be painted by a Lucian Freud-like artist, she declines, claiming “I don’t want to lose my soul.”  And in the future, when contemplating an erasure of her most precious memories, she values her capacity to be moved and react authentically.  While there are ominous signs from the recurring appearance of pigeons, a pair of digital psychics, a computer malware infestation, and a connecting leitmotif from Puccini’s tragic opera Madame Butterfly, the strongest metaphor running throughout the film comes from a variety of dolls, an artificial model for what it is to be human, and a prototype for the possible replacement for the human race.  At the turn of the century, Gabrielle’s husband owns a doll factory, which she tours with Louis, who comments on their expressionless faces, designed “to appeal to everybody.”  One of the most haunting images in the film is her imitation of that “neutral” facial expression void of emotion that she holds, a look that lingers long afterwards (Is that our future?).  In 2044 after her DNA cleanse, an AI robot named Kelly (Guslagie Malanda from Alice Diop’s 2023 Top Ten List #3 Saint Omer) offers help and support, even planting a kiss while inviting her to have sex, but Gabrielle dismisses her as merely a doll.  Another weird doll sits on her desk during the LA house-sit making odd noises, as if having a life of its own, like an alter-ego of her character.  The film is an exploration of the existential, of what it means to be human, as Gabrielle is haunted by a lingering sense of dread, by her fear of “The Beast,” a metaphor for death and the fear of death, an experience only humans on this planet can comprehend, as Gabrielle fears “obliteration.”  The shocking red curtain finale is an overt reference to David Lynch, right down to the strains of Roy Orbison drawing a tear, Roy Orbison ~ Evergreen (Stereo) YouTube (2:51).  A final credit sequence without any listing of names, just a QR code, puts the final stamp on where the coldness of technology can finally take us in the future, a world with no feelings at all, where love is actually an impediment to personal fulfillment.  Whatever you may think of this film, it is uncompromising, resulting in a dizzying, often spellbinding experience, where the ambiguities are intentional and purposeful, as a film with this depth and magnitude is a constant reminder that the malaise of the present, surrounded by invisible forces we cannot control, is a harbinger for the future, where the decisions we make actually matter, leaving behind our human imprint.  

Bertrand Bonello on The Beast - Film Comment  Devika Girish interview podcast (35:22)