Mon ange (2004)
Directed by Serge Frydman

Film Review

Screenwriter Serge Frydman makes a promising directorial debut with this hauntingly poetic evocation of adolescent infatuation, dressed up as a rather improbable mix of road movie, rom-com and fugitive thriller.   Frydman's screenwriting credits go back to the early 80s and he is best known for his many collaborations with director Patrice Leconte, notably Les Grands ducs (1996), La Fille sur le pont (1999) and Rue des plaisirs (2002).  Mon Ange reflects Frydman's penchant for the perverse, the sensual and the frankly bizarre and has a dreamlike composition throughout which, for good or for ill, makes it difficult for the spectator to know where reality ends and imagination takes over.  It is a film that engages the emotions in a way that is hard to fathom, one that is to the Gallic road movie a bit like what Kubrick's 2001 was to the sci-fi movie, at least in its mischievous warping of a familiar genre.

If the film has a fault, it is a slight tendency for unnecessary verbosity, an over-reliance on dialogue that undermines the film's authenticity and disrupts its natural rhythm.  Fortunately, Frydman redeems himself with some highly imaginative sequences which dispense with the needless verbiage and allow his two main actors to play to their strengths.  It is the oniric poetry of the film's final thirty minutes or so which gives it its soul and allows the film to engage with the audience at a very profound level, something you would not have expected from the film's somewhat pedestrian beginning which looks like an ungainly multiple pile up of disconnected genres.

Mon Ange is a particular accomplishment for its leading actress, Vanessa Paradis, whose success on the screen has so far fallen way short of her achievements in other areas.  Here, Paradis is in her element, perfectly cast as the disenchanted prostitute who is incapable of getting even the remotest grip on reality.  In spite of the florid nonsense that Frydman puts in her mouth and which is calculated to undermine her performance at every stage, Paradis succeeds in making her complex character both believable and sympathetic.  No doubt about it, this her finest hour in front of the camera so far, and hopefully it is the beginning of a more mature and successful phase in her acting career.

One possible explanation for why Vanessa Paradis works so well in this film is that she is, for once, perfectly complemented by her co-star, an actor whose talent is far less open to debate.   Vincent Rottiers is the prodigious young actor who won instant acclaim with his debut role in Christophe Ruggia's Les Diables (2002) and who has since come to be recognised as one of the finest French film actors of his generation.  When you watch Rottiers in Mon Ange it is hard to believe that this is only his fourth film appearance and that he was just 17 years old at the time.   Not only is he blessed with an extraordinarily charismatic screen presence (which he definitely needs here to avoid being engulfed by his co-star's take-no-prisoners star persona), but he brings such depth and reality to his portrayal that you cannot help seeing things from his character's point of view.  Rottiers is one of those rare actors who has no need of dialogue to communicate his character's feelings and motivations and is someone with whom the spectator can instantly engage, as if through a kind of telepathy.  There is a delicate vulnerability to Rottiers's portrayal of an adolescent becoming aware of the first stirrings of amorous desire, yet there is also a primal savagery, an unpredictability that is almost chilling.  More than anything, it is Vincent Rottiers's presence that gives the film its immediacy and humanity, and also a visceral edge that cuts like a razor blade.

Mon Ange is not as polished or coherent as it perhaps needs to be for it to be an entirely satisfying piece of cinema, but the arresting contributions from its two lead actors and the stylistic flair that its director brings to it, both in his mise-en-scène and his design conception, make it a refreshingly off-the-wall excursion into unfamiliar territory.  If only Frydman had taken a pair of pruning shears (or better still an industrial chainsaw) to some of the dialogue and given his actors more opportunity to articulate without cumbersome verbiage this could have been a truly remarkable film, rather than one which is merely an odd little coming-of-age offering that is quirkily engaging and only sporadically brilliant.

Film Synopsis

Colette is a prostitute who prefers to make her own way in life after breaking up with her boyfriend.  One evening, she receives a phone call from a friend who pleads with her to take charge of her teenage son, Billy.  When Billy's mother is found dead a short time later, Colette has no choice but to take him under her wing, although every instinct tells her to walk away from him.  When it becomes apparent that Billy's mother was murdered by gangsters, Colette realises that she and her charge are in great danger and the two go on the run.  Billy misinterprets Colette's concern for his well-being as affection and soon realises that he is madly in love with her...