Film Review
In 2007 Sandrine Bonnaire made her directorial debut with
Elle s'appelle Sabine, a
documentary in which the acclaimed actress presented an intimate and
intensely poignant portrait of her autistic sister. Five years
on, she directed her first fictional drama, which was similarly
prompted by a personal incident in her life.
J'enrage de son absence deals
sensitively and imaginatively with a subject that is abject in its
emotional impact, a parent trying and failing to come to terms with the
death of a child in early infancy. It is not the easiest of
matters to broach, even for a director of many years' experience, but
Bonnaire tackles it with the same qualities that have made her one of
her country's most admired actors - sensitivity, compassion and
unflinching honesty - and the result is a moving yet eerily off-beat drama.
Sandrine Bonnaire learned her art by working with some of France's
greatest film directors - Maurice Pialat, Agnès Varda, Jacques
Rivette, and Claude Chabrol to name just four. The
influence of these titanic auteurs of French cinema impinges heavily on
J'enrage de son absence, and
it's an unsettling mix, the granite realism of Pialat interlaced with
the suffocating aura of Chabrol's gloomier thrillers. Although
she has doubtless been greatly influenced by the legends she has worked
with, Bonnaire appears not to have attempted a slavish imitation of
their work but instead forges her own, very distinctive approach, one
that has a brutal masculinity about it. There is a potent
humanity to this film but there is also a cruel, almost nihilistic edge
to it. The central character Jacques (played by American actor
William Hurt, Bonnaire's former husband) is not someone we can readily
identify with, and yet we cannot fail to be moved by the tragic
hopelessness of his predicament, a man constantly yearning for something to
fill the void caused by a child's death.
It is Hurt's astonishingly true-to-life performance - quite possibly
his best to date - that makes
J'enrage
de son absence such a memorable and haunting piece of
cinema. The emptiness that rages within Jacques' tormented soul
is forcibly thrust into our own hearts by Hurt (how apt is that name)
and for anyone who has ever experienced the tragic loss of a loved one
the film has an astounding and bitter resonance. As the woman
confronted with the nightmare of an ex-partner's destructive obsession,
Alexandra Lamy has seldom given a performance of such blistering
authenticity, and as for little Jalil Mehenni, captivating in his first
screen role, all that can be said is that he is a natural heart stealer.
J'enrage de son absence could
so easily have ended up as a trite melodrama, but Bonnaire and her
seasoned co-screenwriter Jérôme Tonnerre deliver something
far bleaker, far more ambiguous and far more tragic. Although the
narrative follows a fairly predictable course the visual style, the
mood, the editing and other directorial choices Bonnaire makes (note
the subtle but effective use of jump cutting within a scene) lend it
the feel of a strange mix of crushingly realistic docu-drama and
nightmarish fantasy. The darkness that surrounds Jacques and
ultimately engulfs him has a suffocating reality to it - you can
actually feel it taking hold and draw you into the abyss... For
the past three decades Sandrine Bonnaire has astounded us with her
talents as an actress. Now it appears that she could well do the
same as a director, if her second feature is anything to go by.
© James Travers 2014
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
Ten years after they went their separate ways following the breakdown
of their marriage, Jacques makes a sudden reappearance in Mado's life.
Whilst Jacques has been unable to move on and build a new life for
himself, Mado has married another man, Stéphane, with whom she
has had a son, Paul, now seven years old. It was the tragic death
of their child which led to Jacques and Mado's separation, and it is
something which Jacques has been unable to put behind him. When
she sees how Jacques and Paul warm to one another, Mado becomes
concerned and insists that her ex-partner he should never see her son
again. Unwilling or unable to let go of the tragedy that still
haunts him Jacques holds a private vigil in the basement of the
apartment block where Mado and her family live, just so that he can be
near to the little boy who has come to replace the one he has lost...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by frenchfilms.org and must not be copied.