Messidor (1979)
Directed by Alain Tanner

Film Review

In this, possibly his darkest and most compelling work, acclaimed Swiss director Alain Tanner paints a stark nihilistic portrait of self-inflicted ostracisation, perhaps the most pessimistic variation on the road movie idea cinema has yet produced.  The film's central premise appears to be a simple one: the freedom we each yearn for is a total illusion.  No matter how many rules we break or how far we wander from home, we are all bound to the society from which we come - John Donne put it succinctly in his poem “No man is an island, entire of itself”.   Through its two protagonists - two likeable and seemingly ordinary young women - the film shows how easy it is to break free and live the life of a vagrant, at least temporarily.  But then, as surely as a magnet will attract iron nails, the unbreakable ties to society will ultimately draw back its wayward wanderers.  There is no escape; we are all part of the mainland from which we came.

This idea of a closed world, an impenetrable global prison drained of hope and humanity, forms part of a wider neo-anarchist reactionary agenda with which Tanner appeared to be preoccupied in the 1970s.  Generally, Tanner's view of the world at that time was intensely gloomy - he saw it as becoming increasingly mechanistic and dehumanised, perhaps heading for some apocalyptic disaster.  Tanner's films often show individuals who are trying to break free, rejecting the soulless consumer society in favour of a more meaningful existence, pursuing ill-defined goals without knowing what was driving them to do so.  In most cases, and Messidor is a prime example of this, this quest proves to be misguided and ultimately fails.  The kind of world we inwardly hope for no longer exists, perhaps never existed.  We may imagine a better life, we may even delude ourselves into thinking such a life is attainable, but inevitably we wake up and end up having to accept the world as it is.

As in much of Tanner's cinema, the setting is paramount in both creating the mood and telling the story.  The unspoiled Swiss countryside we see in his films is both indescribably seductive but also painfully melancholic.  It offers an attractive alternative for those who are worn down by the grind of modern living, yet its relentless bleak emptiness and sadness is not something which can be easily endured by someone who has grown accustomed to the comforts of town life.  The absence of activity which confronts us in the countryside serves to evoke a state of unsettling ennui - making us aware of an existentialist void which the shallow distractions of modern life allow us to fill. Scenic views of rolling hills and endless pastures turn out to be mocking emblem of our self-delusion.  Tanner drives home the point by allowing us a glimpse of paradise in a stunning alpine location immediately before the sonic boom of passing aircraft hammers its way into our consciousness.  With a perversity that defies reason, we all yearn for a purer world, at the same time that we are willing participants in its transformation into a stinking global cesspit.  Tanner's approach is subtle but it is sincere and remarkably effective, and therein lies the force of his cinema.

One of the most disturbing aspects of Messidor is the way in which it shows how two apparently well-adjusted young women descend, with almost carefree ease, into near-savagery.  The impression is that the barrier between civilisation and barbarism is very thin indeed and that if everyone were to break a few of society's rules anarchy would soon result.  Neither Marie nor Jeanne shows any sign of malice or desire to cause trouble but chance events allow them - and ultimately compel them - to step outside the rule of law and become criminals in order to protect themselves.

As in some of his other films of this era - notably Le Milieu du monde (1974), Jonas qui aura 25 ans en l'an 2000 (1976) and Les Années lumière (1981) - Alain Tanner's view of modern society is curiously schizophrenic.  On the one hand society is immutable, soulless and rock solid, almost impossible to defy.  On the other, it is frighteningly vulnerable, showing distinct chinks of fragility which, if allowed to go unchecked, could well bring down the entire edifice in a day.  Like all of the previous great empires the world has known, our privileged western civilisation is probably based on very weak foundations, and the more it grows, the more likely will be its collapse.  More than twenty years on, Tanner's grim assessment of a world that has lost its way is just as relevant today, possibly even more so.

Film Synopsis

Tired of her dull urban life, Jeanne, a young history student, decides to abandon her studies and take a break in the country.  Whilst hitching a lift, she meets Marie, a woman of her own age who works in a shop.  After visiting her father in Lausanne, Marie is heading back to her mother's place in a rural part of France.  Jeanne has no specific destination in mind and so trails along with Marie.  At the last moment, the two women change their plans and decide to embark on a hitchhiking tour across Switzerland.  What begins as a game soon becomes a harrowing ordeal, which neither Jeanne nor Marie is able to give up.  When their money runs out, they are forced to commit crimes of increasing seriousness, just so that they can hold on to the freedom they think they have acquired...