Film Review
At 19, Xavier Dolan made what is possibly the most auspicious directing
debut of the decade with this frank and perceptive film about the
brittle relationship between a single mother and her adolescent
son.
J'ai tué ma
mère (a.k.a.
I Killed
My Mother) is to Dolan what
Les 400 coups (1959) was to
François Truffaut - the similarities between the two films are
quite striking and probably not entirely accidental. Drawing
heavily on his own experiences, Dolan endows his characters with a
blistering sense of reality, and the fact that Dolan (an established
child actor) plays the principal teenager adds to its autobiographical
authenticity. This is the story that Dolan had been dying to tell
since he was in his mid-teens (he claimed to have written the script
when he was 16), but what is most remarkable is the boldness, daring
and originality of his mise-en-scène. It is a film that
literally takes your breath away and reignites your zest for moviegoing.
J'ai tué ma mère
is far from perfect from a technical point of view, and Dolan is not
immune from employing the kind of heavy-handed stylistic clichés
that a more mature filmmaker would flinch at, but there is such human
feeling in the writing and acting that it is hard not to succumb to its
charms. Dolan is at his best and worst when his creativity takes
him over completely. No one who watches this film can fail to be
startled by its gloriously over-the-top centrepiece, in which the main
character and his boyfriend passionately make love whilst splashing
paint over a wall, à la Jackson Pollock - it is like some
frenzied, multi-coloured Pagan ritual, a burst of wild exuberance
swathed in poetry and tenderness. Sadly, many of the other bouts
of artistic overload that punctuate the narrative resemble tacky pop
videos from the 1980s, and Dolan's gratuitous use of slow-motion soon
becomes repetitive and irksome. Evidently, self-restraint is far
more of a stranger to Dolan than uninhibited self-expression.
J'ai tué ma mère
certainly has its moments of toe-curling abandon but set against these
are a screenplay and performances that are consistently excellent and
provide a genuinely moving portrayal of a mother's failure to sustain a
meaningful rapport with her son as he approaches adulthood and becomes
increasingly cocooned in his own crisis of identity. It would be
ludicrous to expect a 19-year-old to deliver a perfect piece of cinema
at his first attempt, and so we can easily forgive Dolan his wilder
artistic indulgences, particularly as a few of them turn out so
brilliantly. It is hard to say what impresses more: Dolan's
obvious awareness of the complexity and fragility of human relationships or his
immense creative flair. In either case, Xavier Dolan grabs the
mantle of Wunderkind as if it were made especially for him and leaves
us in eager anticipation of his next cinematic eruption.
© James Travers 2013
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Film Synopsis
Hubert Minel is a 16-year-old French Canadian student who lives in
Montreal with his mother, Chantale. Since her husband walked out
on her nine years ago, Chantale has struggled to bring up her son
single-handedly, but he shows her little gratitude for her
efforts. Hubert loves his mother but he hates being her son and
is desperate to leave home. At school, he is so embarrassed by
her that he pretends she is dead. The strained mother-son
relationship deteriorates further when a friend of Chantale tells her
that her son, Antonin, has been in a gay relationship with Hubert for
several months. When his mother refuses to allow him to have his
own apartment, Hubert moves in with a (female) schoolteacher who has
developed a fondness for him and is keen to foster his literary
talents. Having been lured into a trap by his mother, with his
estranged father acting as the bait, Hubert soon finds himself
dispatched to a strict boarding school...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.