VERDICTThere are theme-park rides; there
is cinema; there are sacred love poems to take
with you for the rest of your life. Thank you for
giving us the last one, Céline Sciamma.each character in tandem, so their connection
and mutual trust unfolds by careful increments
through spending time together walking by the
sea and gravitating towards each other inside
the castle, like two magnets.
In one key bonding scene Marianne
hammers out a keyboard version of Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons. Héloïse is rapt, having never
heard music like that before. This is the point
where Marianne becomes, to her, an expansion
of the known world, a source of rapturous
knowledge and sensation. Formerly a convent
girl, she is now a princess imprisoned in a tower,
miserable about her fate of marriage, yet always
defiantly more than a victim of circumstance.
Adèle Haenel has a fiery, tomboyish stomp-walk
that undercuts her blonde hair, blue eyes,
rosebud mouth and ladylike dress. She has an
unflinching sass that Sciamma knows how to
frame, letting these qualities grow starker as
the central relationship deepens in intimacy.
This is a film about the female gaze,
powered by the women behind the camera and
the ones in front of it. Héloïse and Marianne
are always looking dead-on into each other’s
eyes, ready to return every serve, drinking in
everything, never growing tired of what resides
inside each other. Claire Mathon, who also
shot Mati Diop’s visually glassyAtlantics,
shows her versatility by turning in one crisp
and precisely framed image after the other.
Her images set off Dorothée Guiraud’s costume
design. Certain colours pop: the steel blue of
the sea which matches Héloïse’s eyes; the jade
green dress she wears for her portrait; the
dark hickory found also in Marianne’squick,
twinkly eyes.
The length of time it takes for Héloïse and
Marianne’s desire to come to fruition — that
folds in a deft revelation of and then resolution
to Marianne’s duplicity — means there is scope
to include an element of maid Sophie’s story.
La Comtesse goesawayfor three days. In thisticking timeline everything of significance
happens. Much like teenagers enjoying a free
house, Marianne, Héloïse and Sophie do what
they gotta do over these days, before stricter life
resumes. They cook for each other, play cards
and try all manner of remedies to help Sophie
to abort an unwanted pregnancy. The way
the abortion storyline is handled drums up
camaraderie and friendship. This is not just
a story of women wanting each other, this is
a story of women wanting to helping each other
to survive womanhood. Some types of desire
lead to one partner dominating or obliterating
the other. Sciamma petitions for a love that
leaves you buoyed, rather than destroyed.
Sciamma also petitions for the value of
going the poet’s way. This fi lm by its very
existence is proof of the art that can be created
if you rescue the romance from what has been,
even if it no longer is. She uses only two pieces
of music, each of which punctuates the silence
with a frenzy of emotion comparable to the
feeling of self-annihilation that comes with
romantic ecstasy.
This film chimes philosophy-wise with
Terrence Malick’s A Hidden Life. Both agree
that romantic love is not about possessing the
other at any cost, but about fi nding a shared
poetic ideal and letting events unfold as they
will, safe in the knowledge that what was never
corrupted still exists in its full incendiary form,
ready to burst into fl ame on contact with
Orpheus and Eurydice or Vivaldi or every book
with a page 28. SOPHIE MONKS KAUFMANMILITARY WIVES
★★★
OUT 12 MARCH / CERT M / 113 MINS
DIRECTOR Peter Cattaneo
CAST Sharon Horgan, Kristin Scott
Thomas, Jason FlemyngThe Full Monty director Peter Cattaneo
returns to the genre of his greatest hit,
offering another British human-interest
tale full of heart and warmth. With Sharon
Horgan and Kristin Scott Thomas
leading a solid ensemble cast, it follows
the semi-true (“inspired by”) tale of the
country’s fi rst choir made up of “military
wives”, whiling away the hours of worry
on base by having a good old sing. There
are no narrative surprises as the women
evolve from ragtag racket to playing the
Albert Hall, and while suffused with gentle
humour the laugh rate is less than that of
The Full Monty. But it would be a cynical
heart that isn’t moved by the group’s
regular heartbreaks and nagging anxieties,
and indeed, their moments of triumph. LBTHE GRUDGE
★★★
OUT NOW / CERT MA15+ / 94 MINS
DIRECTOR Nicholas Pesce
CAST Betty Gilpin, Andrea RiseboroughThe latest iteration of The Grudge — which
Japanese fi lmmaker Takashi Shimizu
originated back in 2002 — has little that
horror fans haven’t seen before in this or
other similar franchises. But while it doesn’t
reinvent the wheel, indie-horror director
Nicolas Pesce deserves credit for the
occasionally effective utilisation of familiar
elements. Although many of the jump
scares are predictable, the pervasively
bleak atmosphere is unsettling and it’s
augmented by a creepy, at times
Halloween-esque score. It’s anchored by
another impressive performance from
Riseborough, who makes a number of
thoughtfully subtle choices other actors
might not have. Here’s hoping that next
time, her and Pesce’s skills are in service
of a fresher concept. AWAbove:Marianne (Noémie Merlant, left): portrait painter,
friend, confidante, lover.ON SCREEN