The Princess of Montpensier (Competition), and the last day begins with a loud whimper. The story of forbidden love and jealousy, inspired by an old French short story – which was itself almost certainly inspired by any number of Shakespearean tragedies – is handsome, bombastic, and occasionally rewarding, but the production is too generic and uninspired to elevate it above a typical costume dramatization of classic, and by now over-exposed, scenarios. Based on the strength of the original story, the film naturally has some effective bits and reasonably sympathetic characters, who are all decent, but, like the rest of the film, unexceptional and unambitious. Not surprising to hear that Tavernier wasn’t originally attached to this project, who seems to be making grab-bag decisions on what projects he will direct. Shrug.
My Joy (Competition), Completely different from his archival documentary style – also, notably, fictional – this film is of no less quality than the films with which Loznitsa has made a name for himself. There is a palpable dread to the proceedings of the protagonist, a truck driver who makes his way through Russia on a job, picking up and dropping off strangers, and running into some trouble. The oddly engaging journey moves at a snails pace, but the compelling performances – especially by the lead – and breathtaking camera work (not the showy kind on display by Mundruczó) support the film just fine. While the symbolism that I could sense was there was not all connecting with me, the general disdain for society, on its way to complete, hellish anarchy, will always come through, especially as it becomes more scarily relevant. This is all magnified to the nth degree when the film jumps forward in time for a truly chilling second half. The truck driver, barely recognizable now, appears to have gone mute, seemingly troubled or fed-up by a climatic run-in that closed the former half. The pacing of the film really grinds for certain stretches, and the misanthropic tone of the film grows increasingly unpleasant. The film continuously re-energizes itself just enough, though, with its intriguing structure, in which dramatic moments are interrupted by completely incongruous scenes that only become logical as they gravitate closer and closer to where we’d left off, often resulting in a violent pay-off. This is most certainly the case with the film’s closing half-hour, which stunned and rewarded me in its stone-cold proclamation that, sometimes, the worst possible outcome is the only justifiable course of action, especially in a society as fucked as this one is.
Of Gods & Men (Competition), Certainly a well-timed telling of this true event – in which a handful of French monks refuse to leave an increasingly violent Algeria (their monastery being threatened by nearby terrorist attacks), resulting in their deaths. I couldn’t completely engage with the material because it is too much a ‘really well-assembled retelling’ rather than a unique cinematic entity. The tension and looming danger arise early, and while the rest of the film (save for the finale) is terrorist-free, the threat of another, more harmful attack, is suffocating. That the monks stay even a moment after the first raid injects the film with all of the dramatic weight – not to mention potent religion/sacrifice allegorical substance – that it needs to successfully sustain itself. Unfortunately, though, the dialogue doesn’t progress from here, but only uses the inherent drama of the real-life event as a crutch. That this event is existing as cinema is never really justified other than as an easy way to make a really compelling fictional document of it. Obviously, it’s enough to create an effective thriller with some real meat for discussion – and to please critics, earning the film the runner-up award of the Competition– but, then, so was the real thing, as told in the news.
On Tour (Competition), Often dazzling, energetic, and poignant, in the end the attempts to stress the weight of family over business felt forced and hollow. Right before seeing this, Amalric was awarded with the Best Director prize, obviously for the warm and naturalistic performances that he extracted from his cast of real-life burlesque ladies, which, admittedly, sometimes fall flat. The film is best when the girls are either performing campy, soulful numbers, or having random, catty conversations in their traveling hours. The film seems to balance, though, on the fact that Amalric’s character, the touring manager, is timing their tour to hit Paris so that he can meet up with his sons who he never sees, which for some reason displeases the girls, which misguidedly calls upon certain acting skills that they clearly lack. Still, though, hold-ups aside, the quality bits here are really impressive; the kind of work I didn’t expect Amalric could (or even wanted to) pull off.
The Tree (Closing Film – Out of Competition), A young father has heart attack, or something, while driving, and rams his truck into his family tree and dies. His spirit is inhaled by the tree, which talks to his daughter, and maybe his wife, possibly. No, this isn’t a sequel to The Fountain, nor is it the awesome B-movie it may sound like. It’s pretty genuine and awful. But at least Gainsbourg is in it, a long way off from the bravura role in Antichrist, playing the kind of character that Miley Cyrus will likely excel at when she’s ten years older. Did I mention that the tree ends up swallowing their house during a storm, ala The Poltergeist? An awesome way to end the festival.
More Cannes Coverage:
Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11