Last Summer (L'été Dernier)

 

Director Catherine Breillat

LAST SUMMER (L'été Dernier)       B-                                                                                 France  Norway  (104 mi)  2023  d: Catherine Breillat

Since I’m an artist, I don’t have to be politically correct.                                                                —Catherine Breillat, Catherine Breillat: Asia Argento Is a Traitor and I don't ... 

The kind of film you’ll see made only in France, which has a tradition of summer movies that spin out of control in dizzying fashion, as it fits their sensibility of lurid provocation causing considerable outrage.  There’s a contentious aspect to all the films of this director, where fantasy always plays a large role, typically female fantasies in the context of a patriarchal society, and this is no different, as she enjoys exploring the edge of moral turpitude, literally normalizing taboo subjects, feeling very comfortable with the uncomfortable.  Described by Beatrice Loyaza in her Film Comment interview (Interview: Catherine Breillat on Last Summer) in the fall of 2023 as “the high priestess of errant female sexuality.  Throughout her career, she has continued to ruffle feathers, be it with her austere visions of (unsimulated) sex (Romance, 1999) or with her unflinchingly violent portrayals of sexual initiation (Fat Girl, 2001),” while actress Asia Argento, who worked with her on THE LAST MISTRESS (2007), fed up with her aversion to the #MeToo movement while publicly defending serial rapist Harvey Weinstein after more than 80 women made allegations of sexual harassment or rape against him, described Breillat as “the most sadistic and downright evil director I’ve ever worked with (French Filmmaker Catherine Breillat Calls Actress Asia ...).”  Coming after a period of not making any films in a decade, the 76-year old director, novelist, and European Graduate School film professor chose to do a literal French remake of May el-Toukhy’s edgy Danish film QUEEN OF HEARTS (2019), working for the first time with cinematographer Jeanne Lapoirie, who began her career shooting André Téchiné's remarkable Wild Reeds (Les Roseaux Sauvages) (1994), with a screenplay written by Breillat and Pascal Bonitzer, which premiered at Cannes in 2023.  The scandalous story recalls the moral transgressions of Woody Allen’s infamous love affair with Soon-Yi Previn, the adopted daughter of his former partner Mia Farrow, who discovered nude photographs of Previn in Allen’s home, yet they ended up in a marriage that still stands the test of time, despite a more than thirty year age difference between them, while also recalling the tabloid sensation of Todd Haynes’ 2023 Top Ten List #9 May December, which subverts the typical male predator role into a female.  Women and female desire have been a consistent element of Breillat's work, where part of equality of the sexes is an understanding that they’re both equally capable of carrying out the same kind of crimes, including crimes of passion, where certainly one of the goals of this film is to reverse gender norms.  In this regard, Breillat distinguishes herself, as she refuses to render judgment on either party, but instead presents a quasi-realist take on a particularly dark subject matter, as a torrid sexual relationship develops between a fifty-year old woman Anne (Léa Drucker, from Xavier Legrand’s 2017 Top Ten List #7 Custody (Jusqu'à la garde) and Lukas Dhont’s Close in 2022), and her self-absorbed, emotionally remote 17-year old stepson Théo (Samuel Kirchner, the son of actress Irène Jacob and younger brother of Paul Kirchner from Christophe Honoré’s 2023 Top Ten List #6 Winter Boy (Le Lycéen), who was originally cast in the role), bearing some physical resemblance to Björn Andrésen, the beautiful boy portrayed in Luchino Visconti’s DEATH IN VENICE (1971).  The French have a term for it, amour fou, an uncontrollable or obsessive passion, succumbing to the power of the flesh over reason, often with an accompanying sense of doom.  With no real audience connection to any of the characters, and her usual lack of subtlety or grace, not really her strong suit, Breillat turns the screws in making this as disturbing and as uncomfortable as possible, yet still quintessentially French, turning this into a bonafide horror movie, with a lie at the heart of the picture, intentionally left ambiguous, without a trace of melodrama, though it can feel contrived and over-the-top, bordering on bombastic, where Breillat’s characters have a history of making bad decisions and constantly lying to themselves, while the unsettling nature of the fallout can leave viewers with a sinking feeling.

Listed at #9 on Cahiers du Cinéma: Top Ten Films of 2023, and #5 by John Waters, this is an elevated family drama with a pernicious undercurrent of forbidden love, where it brings to mind Bernardo Bertolucci’s LUNA (1979), an incestuous love story between an opera singer (Jill Clayburgh) and her drug-addicted 15-year-old son, something Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky described as “monstrous, cheap, vulgar rubbish."  What makes this so abhorrent is Anne’s profession, as she’s a French juvenile rights attorney for sexually abused minors, so she’s used to seeing the traumatic harm inflicted by adults onto children, where the profound impact is not just heartbreaking, but emotionally devastating.  So she’s a gatekeeper for damaged youth, a protector from salacious and injurious acts, where the psychological damage is long-lasting and incomprehensibly toxic.  With that introductory backdrop, what follows is a cautionary tale that takes us down a rabbit hole of aberrant behavior.  Théo has been living with his mother in Geneva, but after getting kicked out of school for assaulting a teacher, this problem child comes to live with Anne and her husband Pierre (Olivier Rabourdin), along with their two young adopted Asian daughters Angela (Angela Chen) and Serena (Serena Hu), in an immense home on the heavily forested outskirts of Paris.  Pierre has business connections that require extensive travel, harboring a guilty conscience about not being there during Théo’s childhood, still having a distant relationship, with a brooding Théo remaining socially aloof, continually glued to his phone, seen moping in his room, and not really interacting with anyone.  His emotional volatility creates a negative impression, regarded as an irritant, where he just doesn’t give a damn about anyone else.  When Anne discovers he’s the likely culprit in a break-in, his self-centered attitude doesn’t sit well with her, so she attempts to set him straight, but in doing so opens herself up, spending time together during one of her husband’s prolonged absences, even allowing him to give her a small, homemade tattoo on her forearm, a completely unlikely scenario that leads to kisses and a passionate embrace, where it’s clear she has crossed the line of acceptable behavior.  As improbable as it sounds, she allows herself to get caught up in forbidden desires, suddenly reliving her lost youth in the pastoral bliss of summer, echoing Agnės Varda’s KUNG-FU MASTER! (1988), perhaps best expressed in a vintage Mercedes convertible drive out in the countryside set to the music of Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth - Dirty Boots (Revised Audio) YouTube (5:06), which is like an engine gearing up for a heightened impact.  This rebellious spirit emboldens them both, suddenly free to defy the odds and ignore all the warning signs, breaking down all moral boundaries, simply plunging into the forbidden zone, Here is an exclusive clip from French provocateur Catherine ... YouTube (2:20).  On the other hand, Anne is rarely seen without a glass of wine in her hand, potentially clouding her judgment, yet if audiences know anything about her it is that she of all people should know better, something we are constantly reminded of throughout the film.  Based on this knowledge, it’s hard to view her as a sexual predator, and she has multiple opportunities to break it off, but succumbs instead to her lustful instincts at the expense of everything else, all happening right under the nose of her husband, where this is a film that prioritizes the carnal part of the relationship rather than the havoc it could wreak, but the sex scenes play out almost entirely as close-ups on faces rather than naked bodies.  The moral hypocrisy is hard to miss, especially having seen the emotional fragility of the young girls Anne represents, yet she continually places herself in the most compromising positions, falling into an ethical free fall where rules are simply thrown out the window.  It’s hard to view this as anything other than arrogance and self-righteousness, as if this is her God-given right.      

The film is told almost completely through Anne’s perspective, allowing viewers to actually get inside her head, which adds a subversive layer to the experience.  And while this illicit couple sneak around behind the backs of adults, they are discovered by her sister Mina (Clotilde Courau), who has had her own difficult struggles in life and is truly disgusted by what she sees, as her sister is someone Mina could lean on for advice and support.  Théo doesn’t care if they get discovered, as he’s not connected to anyone or anything, but Anne has her family and career to think about, where she is jeopardizing both.  In a beautiful outdoor setting for lunch, the unsuspecting Pierre discusses taking his son for a little one-on-one time together, thinking it’s exactly what he needs, as we see Théo’s shirtless frame hovering in the background, like you see in the horror films, Last Summer (L'Été Dernier) new clip official from Cannes ... YouTube (1:31), suggesting Anne is in deeper trouble than she thinks, where the amped up tension is thick, knowing how this could open Pandora’s Box.  Upon his return, Pierre reveals his son’s startling allegations, but rather than confront the reality of her own behavior, Anne instead pretends nothing happened and doubles down on the cover up, coldly pretending it’s all a vile lie espoused by a mixed-up kid who’s trying to get back at his father for not being there for him.  The further down the road we go, the uglier and more loathsome it feels, revealing an unseemly side of the power dynamics of middle class entitlement, with Anne banking on her contention that no one will believe a troubled kid over a seasoned adult professional, where the irony is not lost on us, coming from a woman who advocates for minors, “Nobody will believe you.  You’re not credible.”  While that may be her viewpoint, it is certainly not that of the viewing audience, who are appalled at what we see, as she has betrayed not only her marriage and parental responsibilities, but also everything that her profession stands for.  Thoroughly capable of committing the same crimes as men, Anne privileges female pleasure in a way that is not only problematic, but treads rather murkily into rape territory, if not legally then certainly metaphorically.  In France, the legal age of consent is fifteen-years old, so the real taboo is incest, which applies to sexual relationships between children under 18 and their stepparents. Breillat portrays the situation with little to no judgment, even when things fall apart under the stress of outside scrutiny, but for viewers this becomes fertile grounds for horror, filled with self-deceptions, accentuated by Anne’s defiant lies and her insistent denial of any and all responsibility, essentially subverting the truth, completely blind to the ramifications, where in the end there is a general acceptance of the unacceptable.  That may be the real horror.  Who knew she would become the wicked stepmother, often seen in a devious light in fairy tales (The myth of the evil stepmother - BBC).  It shows that people of a privileged social class will resort to anything, lies, hypocrisy, or even smear tactics to defend their bourgeois lifestyles.  As a point of contention, Breillat’s own attitude towards this film bears some scrutiny, describing at a Cannes press conference that what transpires is “pure love” (Catherine Breillat Talks Taboo-Breaking Cannes film Last ...), as there is a certain romanticization in the relationship of Anne and Théo, though it couldn’t be less about “love,” as it’s so self-centered and destructive, exuding no faith in each other, or any existing humanity, with Breillat also suggesting there is no abuse, that “All of my characters are innocent” (State of Grace: Catherine Breillat on Last Summer), describing those who negatively pass moral judgment on their affair as “the ayatollahs.”  Similarly, she has spoken out against intimacy coordinators, describing them as “stupid” while also comparing them to the Taliban (Awful #metoo extremism is worse than McCarthyism).  In this instance, the director may be her own worst enemy, as her instincts for lacking any moral compass are a dangerous position for any artist, actually recalling the reaction of the Julianne Moore character in MAY DECEMBER, where a 34-year old teacher pleaded guilty to having sex with a 12-year old 6th grade student, yet in her mind she viewed statutory rape as a Shakespearean romance of star-crossed lovers, veering into a delusional psychopathic understanding, with French novelist Christine Angot similarly denouncing Breillat’s film as “an aestheticization of incest.”  As the Rohmeresque title indicates, this is one of Breillat’s lightest films, only showing what she wants us to see, yet by the end, the heavy storm clouds are lurking on the distant horizon.

Down By Love (Éperdument)

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.