Polisse (2011)
Directed by Maïwenn

Film Review

The most contentious nomination for the Palme d'or at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival was this self-consciously realist crime drama directed by actress-turned-filmmaker Maïwenn Le Besco.  Like her sister Isild, another aspiring cineaste, Maïwenn appears to be on a one-woman personal crusade to instil truth, and nothing but the truth, into modern cinema, and her distinctive style of cinéma vérité has certainly found favour in some quarters.  Her first two feature films - Pardonnez-moi (2006) and Le Bal des actrices (2009) were very well-received by both the critics and audiences, and her latest film Polisse has met with comparable success, establishing her as one of the most promising auteur filmmakers in France today.  The film may not have won either of the top prizes at Cannes, but it took away the Jury Prize, to the consternation of many reviewers present who had written it off completely.

Polisse concerns itself with a section of the French police (la Brigade de Protection des Mineurs, or BPM) that has received little attention, either in cinema or in the media generally, but which performs a vital service, protecting the interests of minors and adolescents in the less salubrious districts of Paris.  Maïwenn (the director prefers to be credited by her first name only) was motivated to make the film immediately after seeing a documentary on the BPM, having been struck by how physically and emotionally demanding, and how poorly recognised, is the work undertaken by this essential police function.  Her film pulls no punches and plunges the spectator into the grim reality of child abuse and juvenile delinquency, adopting a distinctive style that feels like a chaotic fusion of documentary and television soap opera.  The film also has a lighter side and is periodically uproariously funny.  Whilst some may (with some justification) judge the film to be self-indulgent fodder for soap addicts, it is hard to overlook how daring it is, both in its composition and in what it shows us, a vibrant slice of life in all its rich and grotesque variety.

There is one aspect of Polisse that does jar and weakens its credibility somewhat.  It is evident that Maïwenn's main objective is to depict the lives of her police heroes and heroines as authentically as possible - a noble aspiration.  One way to achieve this would be to cast actors who are relatively unknown or have little prior acting experience, as the Italian neo-realists and French New Wave directors had done, to great effect.  Whilst Maïwenn does employ a number of non-professional actors, her cast is predominantly made up of some very distinguished, instantly recognisable actors, something which robs the film of the very quality that its director says she is striving for.   Karin Viard, Marina Foïs and Nicolas Duvauchelle are all big name actors in France and familiar to art house audiences abroad, whilst Joey Starr is one of the country's best-known rap artists (now successfully launched on a promising acting career).  The celebrity line-up does not end there.  From Sandrine Kiberlain and Louis Do De Lencquesaing to Lou Doillon and Anthony Delon, the film's credits read like a terminal case of diarrhetic namedropping.   One can't help wondering that, despite her best intentions, Maïwenn lacks the courage of her convictions.

That quibble aside, Polisse is certainly one of the more striking and original French films of 2011, uncomfortable viewing for those stick-in-the-muds who prefer polished, well-structured dramas and well-defined characters, highly refreshing for those who welcome something different.  Although it has been likened by some reviewers to contemporary crime dramas - in particular, the American television series The Wire - Polisse is a world away from the familiar police procedural.  It lies somewhere in the murky haze between drama and documentary, an extremely personal variation on a familiar theme.  Maïwenn makes it clear from the outset that this is her film by appearing in the film as a character who goes around taking photographs of her police colleagues as they perform their duties.  She is showing us what she sees and feels, at the exact instant she presses the button on her camera - sur le vif, as they say in France.

It is easy to write off Polisse as messy and naïve, particularly when its auteur techniques (such as getting actors to improvise entire scenes) are so imperfectly applied.  Yet, whilst the film is crude, and unbearably tacky in a few places, it has that essential quality of being alive.  In fact, it is a film that positively bursts with life.  If we care to look beyond the soap-tinted surface, the characters and the world they inhabit do have a depth and reality to them, we do empathise with the troubled child protagonists and acquire a deeper respect for their police protectors.  It is a film that it is difficult to like entirely, and some will doubtless hate it for the inelegant way it knocks the stuffing out of today's mainstream cinema conventions, yet it is a film that has definitely made its mark.  If Polisse tells us anything, it is that the pursuit of truth in cinema is almost certainly bound to fail.  In art, there can never be truth, merely interpretations of truth, an imperfect shadow of reality reflecting the personality and experiences of the person holding the paintbrush or the camera.  If Maïwenn has learned this lesson by making this film, we can surely expect great things of her in future.

Film Synopsis

Children are increasingly at risk from abuse, both inside and outside the home, which is why a special police squad has been set up in Paris to protect the city's vulnerable infants.  It's a job that is demanding both physically and emotionally, and the resources of the squad are constantly stretched to breaking point.  Their work isn't confined to pursuing paedophiles and teenage pickpockets.  They must also deal with parents who make a habit of abusing their offspring, physically and sexually.  Some of the abuse they witness is too terrible to put into words, but the work has to be done.

The team provides a vital service for the children of Paris, and it can well do without the distraction afforded by Melissa, a photographer who has been commissioned by the Home Office to produce a book on the squad's activities.  Melissa seems to be interested not only in the nature of this demanding work, but how it impacts on the incredibly dedicated men and women who have to undertake it - work that presents challenges which most ordinary people would find impossible to cope with...