Le Trou

To many critics and audiences alike, a director’s continual legacy in the filmic canon rests upon their final film. Kubrick went out on Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Hitchcock on Family Plot (1976), and Billy Wilder on Buddy Buddy (1981). Simply from this random selection of great directors’ last films, it’s quick for one to see the varying degrees of quality which a filmmaker associated towards greatness can go out on. In the case of Jacques Becker, Le Trou is a complex statement on man’s continual stride to be free from oppression. Based on a true Parisian prison breakout, Studiocanal’s remastered Blu-ray, along with many more of Becker’s work, symbolises his position as a definitive voice in cinema.

Opening with Roland Darban (Jean Keraudy) breaking the fourth wall and notifying the viewer retrospectively on an elaborate prison breakout in 1947, Becker treats the audience with respect and does not over elaborate on plot; this is a film simply about five men trying to find freedom and its repercussions. No backstory is required on any of the men’s charges, they are criminals to us with that all that mattering.

Swiftly cutting to the cell in 1947, Darban’s initial position as the lead protagonist is swiftly removed by the introduction of Claude Gaspard (Marc Michel) into the cell. A binary to all the macho men, including Darban, Gaspard’s is a shady character whose motivations for escaping are constantly unclear. Yet, he is welcomed into the plot to escape by all, which includes digging up a tunnel (the film title is French for “hole”). From the opening scenes onwards there is an abundant lack of music. Admittedly, not a negative statement, its use is replaced by diegetic sounds diegetic. Constant bangs and footsteps are omnipresent all scenes, helping to interpolate the audience into the claustrophobic space.

Within this cell, Ghislain Cloquet’s camera uses close-ups in order to create bonds between the group. Alongside such two pivotal elements as sight and sound, the use of a persistent presence in digging equipment et al through mise-en-scene accentuates to perilous task these men face in tunnelling their escape. Holding the frame as Keraudy’s huge arms slam a metal bar to the ground, Becker isn’t afraid to let his scenes unfold naturally. This applies throughout Le Trou, with such stillness capturing the palpable moment of men digging for their lives.

A standout use of mise-en-scene craft is the men’s looking glass, used to observe guards movements in the corridor. A toothbrush with a piece of glass attached at the end is not only a prisoner necessity but surprisingly becomes a vehicle for nuanced cinematography. Becker and Cloquet’s utilises it as a cinematic POV tool. Watching the film, I repeatedly questioned how the director and his team achieved these shots – the sign of a masterful piece.

As the men dig deeper and deeper, their situation in the cell becomes more volatile, with the tension of being suspected or found escaping real. Every innovative trick in the trade is used by the crew to conceal their plans to escape. Such an ambiance of tension is enlarged by a conversation between the prison director and Gaspard in the final act.

Melville has been quoted as praising Le Trou ‘’as the greatest French film of all time.’’ Though I am hesitant to state the same as Melville, its shades of moral ambiguity, inspection of man’s physical power, and themes of brotherly betrayal construct a highly philosophical piece. Going out with a bang, as they say, Becker’s cinematic legacy will be eternally embodied in his last work, Le Trou. Watching the bad guys and their tricks has never been as much fun.

Le Trou is now out on DVD, BD and EST, along with three more restored titles from Jacques Becker.

Edward and Caroline (Édouard et Caroline)

An amusing comedy portraying an adventurous day in the life of a French couple, this is the most simple way of summing up Edward and Caroline. Edward Mortier (Daniel Gélin) is a working-class, man, a talented pianist and a bohemian artist. He lives with his wife, Caroline Mortier (Anne Vernon), a dynamic woman who comes from a bourgeois family. The upheavals begin when the couple is invited to a luxury, posh party that Caroline’s uncle is organising in his mansion. The couple’s attire is the most crucial issue that they need to deal with before appearing in front of Caroline’s uncle’s bourgeois friends.

Edward’s passion for the piano and his mastery is a constant element within the film. Classical music accompanies various parts of the film. The first scene we see is of Edward displaying his virtuoso techniques in piano. Although he comes from a working class, bohemian background, he apparently has a quite high-class, classical education: Chopin and Brahms are among his repertoire.

The couple resembles gender stereotypes of classical mainstream Hollywood cinema: the male is sophisticated and educated (with his huge dictionaries in the bookcase), while the female lacks of such a culture and enlightenment. In the opening scene, Becker and his gentle camera take us from the talented pianist to the housewife cleaning the bathroom. However, Becker has definitely given to his female protagonist a more active and dominant role: she is a dynamic and independent woman with her own will and ability to get things done. She even doesn’t hesitate to ask for a divorce when her husband slaps her.

The party of the well-off uncle has various surreal moments, while it is also a display of wealth and authority. The performances, especially of the women, seem quite theatrical and melodramatic, as they try to draw attention and dominate in the space. Becker accurately portrays the cultural gap between the two classes. Modesty and simplicity are definitely not among the characteristics of the bourgeoisie. Classical music would traditionally connote to upper class. However, in this case, the one who possesses this ‘elite’ education and knowledge is first of all. Despite recognising the music he is playing, some of the guests quickly get bored and the classical piano, and instead get excited by a jolly rumba-like tune.

The only character who seems to differentiate from this flashy group of people is probably the American guest, who truly appreciates Edward’s talent and invites him for a business talk to his office. This generous move is what finally loosens the tension and resolves the fight between the couple.

This is a hilarious comedy, reflecting the living habits of the French bourgeois and its interaction with the working and middle class. Despite differentiating radically from the ‘traditional’ French New Wave pioneers, Jacques Becker also gives a tone and style to his narrative, and should be deservedly credited as an auteur.

Edward and Caroline will be released on DVD, Blu-ray and EST for the first time in the UK on Monday, August 14th, along with three other titles by Jacques Becker: Casque d’Or (1952), Touchez pas au Grisbi (1956) and Le Trou (1960).

My Life as a Courgette (Ma Vie de Courgette)

This starts off with images of graffitied walls in a family home and only when an animated puppet hand picks up some coloured pencils does it become apparent that the proceedings are animated. Courgette lives at home with his mum who sits in front of the TV and shouts at it. The house is littered with her empty cans of beer, which Courgette builds into a tower in his room at the top of the house. His mother is killed in an accident involving a trap door. So he’s taken into care and driven to a home by kindly policeman Raymond.

At the orphanage, Courgette finds himself alongside a small number of troubled prepubescent children including the attention-seeking Simon and the quiet Camille. The kids are starved of parental affection but Monsieur Paul and other orphanage staff do what they can to compensate. Simon starts out bullying Courgette, but when Courgette falls for Camille, Simon helps him break into the office to see Camille’s records. These reveal she is traumatised from witnessing her adulterous dad kill her mum and there’s a possibility her abusive aunt may try to take custody of Camille to get the state benefit.

Unlike so many mainstream children’s films which are designed to capture young minds by throwing relentless, rapid fire sounds and images at them, this one concentrates on the plight of its characters and how they deal with deep-seated social issues confronting them. A wry observational humour underscores the whole thing, as when Simon explains to the others that the final point of “doing it” is that “the man’s willy explodes”.

Rather than try to be hyperrealistic, the puppetry adopts a very specific style with big wide eyes for the kids who, despite their plight, are smitten with wonder for the world around them and just want to fit in like everybody else. Yet, one girl expresses her unease with a nervous tic that makes her repeatedly bang a fork on her plate at table while another boy vents his hatred of police by emptying a bucket of water on Raymond’s head whenever the latter visits. An essentially good man separated from his partner, Raymond plans to adopt Courgette and give him a decent home.

These puppets so completely engage the audience that you enter into their world. There’s a very French feeling about the whole thing – the simple architecture of the orphanage reminded this writer of the school in Diabolique (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1955) – which means the French subtitled version works slightly better than the English dubbed one (both are being released here, so check which one the cinema you propose to visit is showing). The French version also gains from making the voice of the mother considerably more savage, although it must be said that the excellent US English dub is better than most.

In short, this is a striking script adaptation of a book realised with a real love for the craft of the stop frame animation process. Yet it’s much more than that, too: tackling difficult social issues head on whilst delivering convincing child (and adult) characters with lots of rough edges in a simple story which holds the viewer’s attention throughout. One of the year’s best films, despite its brief 66-minute runtime, and absolutely suitable for children… although if you’re an adult, you don’t need to take kids as an excuse to see it.

My Life As A Courgette was out in UK cinemas in June, when this piece was originally writen. It’s out on DVD and Blu-ray on Monday, September 18th. On Mubi on February 5th (2022).

This film is in our top 10 movies of 2017.

Click here for another equally arresting animation out in cinemas right now.

Jeune Femme

We all know a crazy little bitch. She might be dormant inside you or she might be living next door. But she’s not very far. You are guaranteed to recognise her in Paula (Laetitia Dosch), a young female living in Paris and suffering a mental breakdown. Of course you will wish you will never meet someone like her. She is prone to fits, violent outbursts and absurd philosophical rants. She’s the kind of person you’d rather not date, be friends or even engage in a small conversation.

The paradox of freedom prevails in Paula’s life: she shudders with fear every time she’s confronted with the notion that “she’s free to do whatever she wants”. This freedom suffocates her.

The young and pretty Paula has just been ditched by her boyfriend, she doesn’t have any close friends and she has never worked in her life. She doesn’t talk to her estranged mother, and her father is dead. The only company she enjoys is her cat. She’s so desperate for love and attention that she pretends to be someone else to a stranger on the train, hoping to strike up an instant friendship.

The first-time director Léonor Serraille finds humour in her dysfunctional behaviour, which includes smashing her head against doors and mirrors, and screaming outside her former boyfriend building at night. The girl is hopeless!

Or not! Against all odds, Paula manages to pull herself together and miraculously lands a job in a shop selling knickers plus working as a nanny, despite having no references at all. She slowly begins to turn her life around, embracing new sexual experiences and even making new friends. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all.

Paula is an allegory of how anonymous life in big cities such as Paris can be (or “incognito”, as a atrsnger explains to her), and how loneliness can lead to mental health problems. And most importantly: how our society often isn’t prepared to deal with people with such problems, and how we urgently need to work on our sense of solidarity and compassion. Jeune Femme is a very effective tale of urban life malaise, plus a lighthearted study of a mental breakdown, with excellent acting and a sturdy hand at the helm. I would hazard a guess that the filmmaker has a very promising future ahead.

Jeune Femme showed at the 70th Cannes International Film Festival in 2017, as part of the Un Certain Regard section – this is when this piece was originally written. It is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, May 18th (2018). On Mubi in June/July 2020.

Heal the Living (Réparer les Vivants)

The hospital theatre is intended to be entirely decontaminated. Yet the most profound human emotions are within every particle floating in the air. Particularly if you are a mother of two having a life-saving transplant, following the tragic death of a young man, roughly the same age as very own offspring. Ivory Coast-born filmmaker Katell Quillévéré adapts Maylis de Kerangal’s Booker Prize–longlisted eponymous novel and manages to evoke the most profound sentiments in a an environment that is, quite literally, surgically sterile.

Heal the Living tells the story of a 19-year old Simon (Gabin Verdet), who suffers a car accident in a morning after surfing, leaving him braindead. Meanwhile a woman (Anne Dorval) waits to see whether she will be given a new chance of life. Her cardiac condition is so advanced that she’s unable to support her children in the most trivial tasks, and unless she can find an organ donor, her end if clearly eminent. The film director travels back and forth in time intertwining the two tragic stories, which culminate in a heart transplant.

The movie opens up with Simon and his friends surfing during morning twilight. The photography is dark and slow-motion, and the sequence is followed by very symbolic images: cars, windmills at sea and a bridge. Everything represents motion. Life must go on, even if an artificial intervention is required. If humans can place giant aeolian turbines right in the middle of the sea, and build sturdy bridges to be crossed by cars that can move on their own, then there is nothing preventing us from moving a human heart from a brain-dead body to a living one, thereby giving someone a new lease of life.

healtheliving800450-1
A living Simon with his girlfriend, enjoying life.

Heal the Living is a complex kaleidoscope of stories and sentiments. The dialogue is sparse but not laconic. The soundtrack – a combination of a piano soundscore, indie music and David Bowie – is pervasive but not invasive. The performances are astute and moving. Anne Dorval communicates a lot with her eyes. Everything is in the right measure. There’s just enough graphic realism (a drill, an electric saw, etc in operating theatre), without ever being exploitative. This is a film that will bring tear to your eyes, give you heart palpitations, but it won’t make your stomach churn. You will watch the scalpel blade cut through the body, and yet you won’t feel any pain. You will be anaesthetised by a large dose of humanity and compassion injected directly inside your heart.

The message within the film is bright as daylight: organ donation saves lives. Even the film title is imperative: heal the living! So let’s save some lives. In case you haven’t done it yet, click here in order to register with the NHS organ donor register, or here to promote awareness of organ donation and transplants. I have already done it. What are you waiting for? Life is full of unexpected twists and – knock on wood – you may not wake up to see the sun rise tomorrow, just like Simon never did. But you can help someone else do. This is not Hallmark card sentimentality. This is pragmatism.

Heal the Living is showing is out in cinemas across the UK from Friday, April 28th.

Raw (Grave)

I‘d like to imagine that Morrissey would be the first in queue to watch this film. The controversial “meat is murder” singer and animal rights activist once famously said “I hope to God it’s human [meat]” upon smelling barbecue during a concert in the US. Yet he’d probably become extremely disappointed. Raw is a very effective, clever and funny movie about a vegetarian who turns into a cannibal, but it is in no way an anti-carnivore statement. After all, meat is fun. Sorry, mate!!!

This incredibly well-crafted horror starts with a sequence that is guaranteed to get you jumping off your seat, only for the pace to slow down and gradually begin to build up again to the very graphic, repulsive and inevitable outcome: human eats human. At first, the film seems to be a very serious and stern horror with strong political and activist connotations, but then it slowly and willfully morphs into an absurd black comedy about wild and naughty university students and a very strange fraternal relation between two sisters. It will keep you hooked, fluttering and pulsating throughout. Much like a chicken in an abattoir.

raw3-800
You too may quiver and shudder in fear while watching Raw

Raw tells the story of 16-year-old Justine (Garance Marillier), who arrives for her first year in veterinary school somewhere in provincial France. She comes from a family of strict vegetarians, and she has never eaten meat herself, but she’s then forced to consume rabbits kidneys during an initiation ritual. She’s goaded by her upperclass sister Alexia (Ella Rumpf) to engage in the bizarre procedure for sake of acceptance. Soon after, a very bizarre accident happens, causing Justine to have her first contact with raw human flesh. You can work out what happens next without me having to dish out some tasters and spoilers of the ensuing feast to the eyes.

Cannibalism isn’t the only sort of interaction with the human body that you will encounter in Raw: there’s plenty of sex (both straight and gay), the most unorthodox university initiation rituals (Americans call them hazing) you’ll come across (including covering the rookie’s body in paint for a hilarious and colourful interaction) and even a Brazilian wax with a tragic outcome. Oh, and there are animals everywhere: dead or alive, put to sleep on ketamine or being cut open in an operation table. There’s blood, saliva, vomit and pretty much any sort of fluids you can imagine in there. And the ones you cannot imagine, too.

raw2-800
Justine is forced to eat raw rabbit kidneys during an initiation ceremony

This French film will deliberately join the pantheon of the most disgusting horror movies ever made, alongside the likes of Naked Blood (Hisayasu Satō, 1996) and The Human Centipede (Tom Six, 2006). But unlike the Japanese and Dutch films, Raw is a very clever film which successfully recycles cliches of university hazing films, with very strong performances, convincing imagery, a great soundtrack (there are some very energetic and nervous sequences on a dance-floor packed with randy students), plus a very sharp and dark humour.

The fact that this is a French film, and that it was made by a woman is also very relevant. French horror takes a less Manichean look at the “evil” protagonist (click here for our recent interview with French filmmaker Olivier Assayas, where he discusses the benevolent quality of French horror) – you will soon realise that Justine is, in fact, quite sweet and likable. Plus the female gaze behind the camera makes this a less exploitative and voyeuristic movie.

Raw is out in cinemas across the UK from Friday April 7th. Make sure you attend sober and on an empty stomach, just in case. Meanwhile, you can watch the film trailer right here, which is far easier to digest:

The Graduation (Le Concours)

Do you want to be a filmmaker? Is going to a prestigious film school in France the most certain and legitimate way of achieving success in the movie industry? The documentary The Graduation explores the entry exams for La Fémis, a French state film college under the responsibility of the Ministry of Culture.

The desire to make cinema prevails throughout the film, as do fears and anxieties. Candidates explain in detail why they want to become a film director, and they answer the questions posed by an examining board composed of established film professionals, such the filmmaker Olivier Ducastel (who directed Paris 5:59 earlier this year). The film also captures the comments and jokes that the examiners make when they are on their own, away from the attentive eyes of the keen young men and women. A candidate from Ivory Coast explains that cinema is a weapon against disinformation because people “listen to images”, but she never wanted to be a politician. Menawhile, the examiners tell anecdotes about passion, relationships and masturbation.

The Graduation is not a rivetting movie unless you are in a very specific moment of your life – your film college entry exams – or are very nostalgic of when you took those in the past. In other words, if you are a diehard filmmaking enthusiast with a taste for college doctrine. The camera in non-intrusive and manipulative, but it is also a little slow and manneristic, and at times it feels like watching CCTV inside the emblematic French school.

Other documentary movies about filmmaking succeeded at captivating audiences much more effectively than this one. For example, Mohsen Makhmalbaf’s Hello Cinema (1995) is an energetic and visceral register of auditions to become a film actor, and a masterpiece per se. The Graduation is less ambitious, more distant and elitist. It surfs through the lives and ambitions of the young people, without going into much depth. It gives the impression that filmmaking in France is more formulaic and less liberating than in country with a less established and austere industry, such as Iran.

The Graduation won the ultra-specific prize for Best Documentary On Cinema this year at the Venice Film Festival. It showed as part of the BFI London Film Festival in October 2016, when this piece was originally written. It’s out in selected cinemas across the UK on Friday, September 15th.