L'Oiseau (2012)
Directed by Yves Caumon

Film Review

After his well-received first two features Amour d'enfance (2001) and Cache-cache (2005), director Yves Caumon earned further praise with this low-key but delicately crafted study in solitude, a modest film that would probably have passed without notice had it not been for the riveting central performance from Sandrine Kiberlain.  L'Oiseau (a.k.a. The Bird) offers Kiberlain her best and most challenging role to date, one that allows her to demonstrate her skill as an actress and which exploits her distinctive physical allure to the full.  Caumon keeps the camera trained on his lead actress for most of the film, so that we have no choice but to enter her world and experience her slow awakening from her zombie-like existence as if we were standing in her shoes.

In one surprising scene, Kiberlain's character is moved to tears whilst watching a screening of Mizoguchi's The Life of Oharu (1952).  Clearly, she manages to identify herself with the hard put-upon heroine of the film.  This connection makes more sense than Anne's bizarre bonding with a stray pigeon that somehow manages to find its way into her apartment and gets itself trapped behind a wall.  The bird becomes too obvious a metaphor for Anne's predicament and the story that then develops becomes a little weighed down by heavy symbolism.  Anyone familiar with Kenji Mizoguchi's cinema will appreciate that it is far more likely for someone to be instilled with a new zest for life by watching a Mizoguchi film than by having a pigeon frolic about your living room (even if it is spectacularly well house-trained).

L'Oiseau suffers from a noticeable lack of content and a tendency to dwell on the insignificant minutiae of daily life.  A little overlong, the film could have benefited from some judicious trimming to relieve the sense of ennui that sets in around the midpoint.  The background music - so painfully redolent of a tacky 1980s melodrama - becomes slightly nauseating after about ten minutes and seems to conflict with the detached approach that Caumon is aiming for with his sparse mise-en-scène.  As irksome as these failings are, they do not quite dispel the film's intense lyrical charms, nor its subtle emotional impact.  A strong central performance from Sandrine Kiberlain, admirably supported by Clément Sibony, Bruno Todeschini and Serge Riaboukine, make up for the self-conscious artistry of Caumon's direction, and, overall, L'Oiseau just about manages to hit its mark, a gently poignant modern fable on coping with loneliness and bereavement.

Film Synopsis

Anne's life has become one of monotonous routine.  She lives alone, has no need for friends and repels anyone who may have amorous designs on her.  It is her way of coping with the grief that still burdens her, the loss of her infant son several months ago.  After the tragedy, Anne could no longer go on living with her husband, so they separated.  Since, she has become increasingly withdrawn, unwilling to make a new life for herself.  Then, one day, a little bird flies into her lonely apartment...