_Fallen Heroes_; _Lorna's Silence_

[sept...@millenicom.com]

Watching _Fallen Heroes_ unavoidably reminds me of Pauline
Kael's article "Come dressed as the sick soul of Europe
parties. Kael's title referred to _Last Year at Marienbad_
and _La Notte_. The latter is one of my favorite Antonioni's,
if somewhat downbeat. _Marienbad_ is clearly one of the most
vibrant, fun-loving, inventive films ever made; if anything it gives
testimony to the health of French cinema, which would soon
crest as the French New Wave.

Although _Fallen Heroes_ (screened at Venice film festival)
did not make it to these shores, there is no question it
reflects the sickness and stagnation in art-house cinema
being heavily promoted the last decade. It uses mostly
static camera, long takes, unease-inducing ambient sound,
and very little music. The first scene has the middle-aged
protagonist (Bruno Todeschini) alone in a sterile. eerily
lit examination room. Soon the doctor tells he is (gasp)
sterile. (Unlike his artist father, who has illegitimate
sons all over the map.) He and his French family feel
displaced in Italy and are heavily in debt; his in-laws
are visiting, and his overbearing mother is also in town
for a retroscpective of his dead father's work. The guy
can't catch a break. I suppose anyone will be daunted.
But he soon goes off the deep end and bonds with the son
of his creditor, saves the latter when he jumps off a bridge,
helps him look for his girlfriend in the middle of the
night, and in general forming a weird father-son relationship,
although sometimes it is not clear who is the father.
This "son" is like Terrence Stamp's "visitor" in _Teorema_,
the one person who have an excess of self-regard and willful
scheming. Meanwhile, Todeschini's character is like Camus'
penitent in _The Fall_, except that his life and identity
still flounders *after* he saves someone from drowning.
(In a painfully unsubtle scene, his wife's purse and ID
cards are stolen in the stree.) The only times anyone shows
emotion and a sign of life have to do with either sex or
death. That is pretty much the definition of decadence,
isn't it? Eventually he is talked into taking the fall
for a crime he has not committed, for no reason at all. He
is emblematic of a culture (film culture?) without hope,
vision, or future.

The only reason to see this film is Irene Jacob, who plays
his wife. The film is most alive when she is on screen
(all too seldom). In very second scene, Todeschini limps home
to find Jacob sitting on the bed. Turning her fully clothed
willowy back to him, she talks about having seen a movie
about a singer who has lost her voice at the height of
her career and sees her lover desert her. (Anyone knows
which film this is?) The most memorable scene is at the
press-conference honoring Todeschini's dead father; as
his mother drones on, the "son" (played by Elio Germano)
boldly propositions her -- physically -- caressing her thigh.
The surprise in her face gives way to sheer delight, and
they both burst out laughing. Her portrait of a long
suffering, supportive wife is extremely touching. But she
is also in the film's most disappointing scene (not her
fault), when her character walks out of a hotel (after an
affair with Germano), gets her purse stolen, and darts
around looking for the thief. Here the director uses either
a steadicam or a track shooting her upper body in semi-
close-up as she runs around. What kind of idiot director
would cast Irene Jacob, script a running scene, and then
not photograph her moving like a ballet dancer in the
streets? Irene Jacob is an intuitive, incredibly graceful
actress, and she is never more graceful than when she is
in full-flight motion. There is copious amount of interview
on the DVD. Jacob's part is in French dubbed into Italian,
and the only two words I could pick out were "Kieslowski"
and "Antonioni." Well this director Paolo Franchi is
certainly not Kieslowski. For starters, he needs to abandon
this decade's art-house cinema cliche, get his camera
moving agin, work on his empathy for his characters, put
in a more empathetic soundrack, and above all, shoots Irene
Jacob running in the streets like she did in _The Double
Life of Veronique_.

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_Lorna's Silence_ is a substantial departure for the Dardenne
brothers, which is a good thing because their last film is
a disappointment. Jeremie Renier in _The Child_ simply
doesn't deserve the focused, hand-held, glued-to-back-shoulder
treatment that the more morally complex characters the
Dardennes' other films enjoy. Lorna is an illegal Albanian immigrant
being exploited by gangsters and her boyfriend to make money
through in phony marriage. She is complicit in the scheme
but has tremendous inner struggle with the consequences too,
particularly because the gangsters plan to murder her lawful
"husband" (Jeremie Renier again, impressive as a needy junkie).
There is much more distance between the audience and the
protagonist (hardly any over-the-shoulder shots, until Lornia's wild
flight at the end); the story even has a jarring jump-forward. There
is more music and the night-time photography of a city larger
than those the Dardennes' early films are set in also gives a
different
feel. Lorna's troubles make Bruno Todeschini's self-inflicted ennui
quite laughable. (Isn't it true that Italy has more restrictive
immigration laws, and consequently less immigrants?) Why can't
he volunteers to help those in need, or at least get a hobby? I'll
glad
the Dardenne brothers are back on track though, and a new track at
that.