Tag: François Ozon

Everything Went Fine (Tout S’Est Passe Bien)

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Based on Emmanuelle Bernheim’s autobiographical book about her father’s desire to die, Francois Ozon’s new film deals with a topis the auteur has successfully handled in the past, in Time to Leave (2005): an impending death combined with family confrontation and alienation. The difference is that Andre Bernheim, the dying protagonist of the 2021 film, is much older than Romain, the lead of the movie from 16 years ago. The former is aged 85, while the latter is just 31. What both characters have in common is that both are gay men.

Andre (Andre Dussolier) has suffered a stroke, leaving him bedridden and barely able to speak. He undergoes a gastrostomy, and is unable to control his bowel movements. His daughters Emmanuelle (Sophie Marceau) and Pascale (Géraldine Pailhas) are fully supportive and constantly by his side. But Andre has lost the desire to live. He claims he is no longer inhabiting his own body. One day, he asks Emmanuelle: “please help me to finish it”. At first, she’s outraged and refuses it. The doctors attempt to change his mind by prescribing him various anti-depressents.

Emmanuelle eventually decides to assist Andre: “I could never say ‘no’ to my father”. She conducts a quick internet search and contacts an assisted suicide organisation in Switzerland. Pascale is supportive of their decision.

But their plans aren’t as smooth as Emanuelle anticipated. A much younger man called Gerard (Grégory Gadebois), presumably a much younger lover, has other plans in store. And euthanasia is never as straightforward at seems. There are very large logistical hurdles in reaching Switzerland. the French law isn’t on their side. Emmanuelle and Pascale could face five years in jail and be fined €75,000 each if they assisted their father’s suicide in any way. Andre is determined to forge ahead nevertheless.

One of the interesting twists of fate is that Andre’s condition improves shortly after he decides to die. He is discharged from hospital, his G-tube removed and his speech becomes entirely intelligible, if a little slurred. His resolve to depart, however, remains unshakeable. At times it borders on the selfish and whimsical. Everything Went Fine raises the doubt: is it morally acceptable to demand to die when such death could have horrible repercussions for your loved ones?

Francois Ozon’s 20th feature film showcases two divas of European cinema at old age. Charlotte Rampling plays Andre’s wife Claude de Soria, an sculptor with “a heart of cement” (according to Andre). Despite’s her husband’s homosexuality, the two never separated. Yet they barely talk to each other. Asked whether he wants to see to his wife before his departure, Andre says: “she’s already dead”. Fassbinder’s favourite Hannah Schygulla plays the Swiss lady intended to facilitate the suicide. She is kind and caring, yet practical and phlegmatic. Ozon has a habit of paying tribute to his favourite female actresses by giving them small and poignant roles. He has done the same to Jeanne Moreau in Time to Leave, Jacqueline Bisset in The Double Lover (2017), and others.

Despite its highly controversial topic, Everything is Fine is not one of Francois Ozon’s most poignant movies. The performances are often impassive and unemotional, the characters exhibiting a large degree of stoicism in the face of adversity. This is not a punch-in-the-face type of drama, but instead a patient and resigned one.

Everything Went Fine showed at the 69th San Sebastian International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. In cinemas and also on Curzon Home Cinema on Friday, June 17th. On all major VoD platforms on Friday, July 15th

Summer 85 (Été 85)

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Meeting the right person at the right time can cause both parties to flower and grow. Enter 16 year old Alexis Robin (Félix Lefebvre), beginning his school holidays on the pebbled shores of Calais. Affable but perhaps a little reserved, he is at a crossroads between continuing education or finding his place in the world of work. Over the course of a single day, Alexis is catapulted into an intense friendship with self-possessed David Gorman (Benjamin Voisin). With a couple of years seniority, David captivates Alexis with lingering eye contact and physical interaction that hints at something more. The pair exhibit more electrochemistry than a 12-volt car battery and romance quickly follows. Both are transformed by their encounter, with Alexis blossoming with newfound confidence at their union and David finding succour following the recent passing of his father.

However, even in the midst of a perfect summer, the spectre of autumn looms to threaten the leaves of new growth. Imminent tragedy is explicitly telegraphed from the get-go and the film jumps between the bright summer days and a grey, washed-out future. Too often films are ruined by divulging their coming flashpoints ahead of time but Summer 85 manages to circumvent this issue; alternating timelines are used to great narrative effect. Easy and free with their public displays of affection, the potential difficulties of being gay in the 1980s are dropped in favour of showing the sincere moments of unbridled joy at the centre of their relationship. This honest beauty is enough to quell any sense of foreboding and gradually enables the audience to understand just why the principals become so very distraught. The sweet innocence of their young love is further maintained by their various acts of consummation kept private and offscreen.

The film lives and dies by its admirable leads. Lefebvre projects the brightness of his youthful potential well at first and does a great line in winsome smiles. The later heel turn into despondency is also capably managed and there is a sensitivity to the whole performance that carries Alexis’ supposed promise as a writer. Voisin brings the energy and swagger of a Point Break (Kathryn Bigelow, 1991) era Swayze and this momentum believably sweeps up Alexis in its wake. Brief glimpses emerge of David’s pain at the recent loss of his father, elsewise alluded to by his similarly broken mother (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi) who has been resorting to strong medication in order to cope with the untimely death. Madame Gorman has been running the family fishing supply store with just David to help and Alexis is welcomed into the fold as she sees the beneficial effects of their ‘friendship’.

Impressive set design, music choices and sourcing of garish clothing neatly captures the spirit 1985, helped along by the graininess of 16mm film. Likewise, Summer 85 hits all the recognisable markers of a classic 1980s’ teen movie: a neon-lit fairground, cinema smooches, a supportive schoolteacher opposite emotionally unavailable parents, summer jobs, bedrooms wallpapered with magazine posters and copious amounts of double denim. This kind of reductivism doesn’t do the film justice however, with a remixing the elements into something fresh. Besides, the sailing skills that are apparently instilled in every Calais teen brings an entirely different freedom to John Hughes’ outings. Call Me By Your Name (Luca Guadagnino, 2017) is another obvious touchpoint but the earlier acceptance of desire allows the film to explore different ground with Ozon’s compelling directing. Not a single frame of the 100min runtime outstays its welcome and a cathartic culmination lets the audience end the return to a half-remembered summer triumphantly. As the seasonal tones shift from lush to dark, the promise of next spring can be felt.

Summer 85 premiered at the San Sebastian Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. It is also showing at Curzon Camden Market until September 30th. In cinemas (on general release) on Friday, October 23rd.

By the Grace of God (Grâce à Dieu)

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Francois Ozon is best remembered for his psychological dramas, psychosexual thrillers and twisted comedies. He has now moved into an almost entirely new territory: Catholic faith and paedophilia. The outcome is nothing short of magnificent. The director paints a profoundly humanistic portrayal of the sexual abuse victims of real-life priest Father Bernard Preynat (Bernard Verley), thereby denouncing the silence and the complacence of the Catholic hierarchy.

By the Grace of God follows the steps of 40-year-old father-of-five and respectable professional Alexandre (Melvil Poupard). He decides to confront Father Preynat, who abused him 30 years earlier, upon finding out in 2014 that the priest still working closely with children. The problem is that the crime took place in 1991 and it has now prescribed (exceeding the 20-year threshold for legal action), and so Alexandre searches for more recent victims of Father Preynat, in a Goliath versus David battle against the extremely powerful and millenary Catholic Church.

The other victims are reluctant at first. A man called Didier refuses to cooperate. Didier and his brother were consistently abused by Father Preynat. The latter was unable to come to terms with the abuse and therefore committed suicide. Slowly and reluctantly, other victims begin to come forward. Alexandre, Francois (Denis Menochet) and Emmanuel (Swann Arlaud) begin a legal battle against the Church, and soon the scandal is splashed on the pages of every local newspaper.

Cardinal Barbarin (François Marthouret) at first refuses to budge, affirming that Preynat will remain a priest “for as long as he lives”. He eventually promises to defrock Preynat, as the public commotion spirals out of control and he bows to pressure. During a press conference, he commits a very embarrassing Freudian slip: he says that “thank god” most of the crimes have now expired (hence the film title Grâce à Dieu, which would indeed translate more neatly into “Thank God”). This little slip of the tongue epitomises the Church’s complacence and complicity with paedophilic priests, and it’s a great choice for the film title.

The performances are impeccable. The deconstruction of normative masculinity is a recurring theme in Ozon’s filmography. In Time To Leave (2005) he deconstructs such masculinity through collapsing health. In The New Girlfriend (2014) he does it through cross-dressing. In Frantz (2016) through death and war. And so on. This time he opted to deconstruct masculinity through sexual abuse. It’s not often we see a group of men coming together in order to talk about being victims of paedophilia. The victims of rape tend to be females. Boys don’t cry. Let alone get raped. The rape of males is still a taboo. In By the Grace of God, however, things are a little different. Men cry very loud. Men kill themselves. Emmanuel has seizures upon remembering the traumatic events.

At 137 minutes, By the Grace of God never gets tedious. The dialogues are extremely cunning, often delivered in a voice-over with the content from the letters written by the victims and their relatives. The abuse itself is never illustrated, and even the verbal description is never too graphic and shocking (at least not in comparison to Pablo Larrain’s extremely verbally explicit The Club, from two years ago).

At one point, it is suggested that there a link between homosexuality and paedophilia (a connection easily made since all of Preynart’s victims were male). Ozon immediately dismisses this suggestion, reminding viewers that paedophilia is illegal yet not homosexuality (Ozon is openly gay himself). The Church attempts to play to compassion card in an attempt to dodge prosecution, but Alexandre reminds the clergy that such “forgiveness” would equate to him remaining both a prisoner and a perpetual victim of Preynart.

Ozon attempts to exempt the Pope. Alexandre is motivated by the fact that Pope Francis has been so vocal about denouncing paedophilia. The French filmmaker seems to suggest that the progressive Holy Priest is attempting to change the Catholic Church. He does not, however, exempt Cardinal Barbarin and the Catholic Church as a whole. Ozon goes even further. He indicts the relatives that opted for silence and leniency, such as Alexandre’s parents.

At the end of the film, we are informed that Cardinal Barbarin’s trial is set to end in just a few weeks, on March 7th. Ozon is using cinema as a weapon for transformation. By the Grace of God is intended to pressurise the French justice system so that justice is finally served, reminding powerful cardinals that no one is above the law. Priests should face justice, not just ask for “forgiveness” and get send to a remote “club” in the South of Chile (as denounced in Larrain’s film). The hierarchy should also be held accountable. Far more significantly, By the Grace of God is a call-to-action. Victims of sexual abuse, step forward. Friends and relatives, support them. Silence and complacence should never prevail.

By the Grace of God premiered at the 69th Berlin International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. It won the Silver Bear. It premieres in London in October as part of the BFI London Film Festival and the Cambridge Film Festival. It’s out in cinemas on Friday, October 25th. On Curzon Home Cinema, Amazon Prime and Netflix in August.

The Double Lover (L’Amant Double)

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François Ozon probably doesn’t get much sleep. At the age of just 49, the incredibly prolific French filmmaker has authored 40 feature films. While his neoclassic Frantz was still showing in cinemas, the director has already came up with yet another masterpiece called The Double Lover, which premiered at the 70th Cannes Film Festival.

This is an incredibly arresting, sexy and funny study of love, sexuality and emotional breakdown. Chloé (Marine Vatch) begins an affair with her psychologist Paul (Jérémier Renier), after she has recovered from anxiety and some apparently psychosomatic stomach pains. Paul is strong and confident, while Chloé is frail and insecure. Her looks and vulnerability, plus some of the sex scenes, reminded me a lot of Mia Farrow of Polanski 1968 classic Rosemary’s Baby – minus the blond hair. Like Rosemary, she begins to suspect that her husband is concealing something from her and – despite her insecurities – she begins to investigate his life. She soon discovers that he changed his surname, but that’s just the beginning.

Repressed sexuality is one of the central pillars of the movie. You will watch these desires come out in the most varied shapes and forms, from the very sensual to the borderline ludicrous. There is rape, a strap-on dildo in an undesired orifice, sex with identical twins, sex with dicephalic paparagus twins (a siamese with two heads), amongst other dirtylicious depravities in the movie. What’s most incredible is that Ozon manages to tie all of this together in a coherent narrative.

This is also a film about duplicitous and split personality, and how we all have to negotiate with a strange twin living us. We all have to grapple with our inherent ambiguity, and make sure the dominant side doesn’t take over, absorb or kill the weaker one. Ozon creates a breathtaking cinematic allegory for the Manichean duel we all have to stage in our lives, and how repressed sexuality can easily morph in to hysteria or perhaps something more serious. Maybe psychosis?

The acting is superb, the camerawork is impeccable, and this film is in no way inferior to what I consider to be Ozon’s masterpiece Swimming Pool. Like the 2003 film, there’s a huge surprise in store for you in the end, and there is absolutely no way anyone will guess what this is. One side is going to win, but I’m not telling you what that is. Is it the good or the bad guy? Is it sanity or is it madness? Is it reality or is it imagination? Is it the dominant twin or is it the runt? Is it the one penetrating or is it the one who’s being penetrated? For now I’ll leave you guessing. You will have to wait a few months until the cinema comes to a cinema near you in order to find out. Rest assured, the journey is worth it. This is a psychologically orgasmic treat.

The Double Lover was vying for the Palme d’Or this May, when this piece was originally. It was my personal favourite to take the prize. With a sexually subversive mind such as Pedro Almodóvar heading the jury, I thought that the film stood a good chance of walking away with the statuette. Ozon likes it dirty. So does Almodóvar. And so do I!

But I was wrong, and Ozon left without the statuette.

This film showed at the 70th Cannes Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. Itpremiered in the UK in October, as part of the 61st BFI London Film Festival. It is finally out in cinemas on Friday, June 1st (2018).

The Double Lover is in our top 10 films of 2017 – don’t forget to check the full list here.

On Mubi on Sunday, February 13th (2022). Also available on other platforms.

Frantz

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François Ozon doesn’t need any further proof of his talent; just look at his filmography. He directed cult classics such us 8 Women (2002), Swimming Pool (2003) and Potiche (2010). The 2002 film included a constellation of movie stars: Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Fanny Ardant, Emmanuele Beart and Ludvigne Sagniera. He also directed Gerard Depardieu, Charlotte Rampling and Kristin Scott Thomas. At the beginning of his career he was known as France’s gay enfant terrible. At the age of just 48, and with almost 40 films under his belt, he is considered one of the greatest directors in the world, and he also writes most of his films. His latest film Frantz may well be the pinnacle of his extensive career, and this masterpiece could deservedly bestow the accolade of “cinema genius” on the relatively young director.

Frantz is not a straightforward drama, and its narrative is charmingly compled. It’s a film about antagonistic emotions. It’s a film about absence and presence. It’s black and white and yet colourful. It’s revealing and closeted. Ozon unveils the story of Frantz, and then the story of Anna (Paula Beer) and Adrien (Pierre Niney) unravel. The film is perhaps the epitome of neoclassic perfection. Classic in its pre-technicolor cinema qualities aesthetics; classic in the choice of the actors and their very specific looks seen in classic films; classic in his use of the ‘unconventional love story’. Ozon literally travels in time and rescues the formula of the old movies, bringing back to life a small German town just after World War I.

It’s 1919 in the town of Quedlinburg, in the German state of Saxony-Anhalt (not far from Berlin). Anna is healing from the death in combat of her fiancé Frantz. During her mourning she befriends a Frenchmen, Adrien, who frequently visits Frantz’s grave. She introduces him to Frantz’s father and mother (Ernst Stotzner and Marie Gruber, both spectacular in their roles). At the beginning there is tension in the air: Adrien is French, while Frantz’s family is German. Opposite sides, enemies during the recently finished World War I. From there we follow the close relationship that develops between Anna and Adrien over the memories, letters and feelings that both sides devote to the late Frantz.

Ozon finds a curious way to tell the story of a character, who names the film but hardly appears in the film except for a few memory flashbacks. The unusual narrative, script and creative choices make Frantz a film above the average. The director found the right balance, vouching for the excellence, splendour and eternal life of his movie. Frantz is relevant and magnificent, just like a Manet painting that appears in the film playing an important part in solving the enigma of Frantz’ death.

Frantz is delightful to watch and full of twists. Nothing else can be said about the film without spoiling it; the resolution of a puzzle, the revelation of a truth. To top it all up, you will probably fall for the epic beauty and talent of Paula Beer.

The film showed at the 73rd Venice Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. It’s out in UK cinemas on Friday, May 12th (2017). On Mubi in September 2020.