Hello Wasteland readers, it has been 8 months since my last confession, how time flies when you have gone back to work after a couple of lockdowns. I have been quietly keeping a list of cultural experiences I wanted to talk to you about, but just haven’t been able to find the time, motivation or energy to do much writing since getting back to a full time job. My apologies. But… all good, because the film that has brought me back out of the break from reviewing is an absolute corker! And by that I mean a genuine work of art from start to finish.
I can confidently say that this film was not just a casual watch of something that I could admire or respect, but a deep, meaningful experience that I haven’t stopped thinking about in over a week since I saw it. That rare, rare kind of film that hits you only once or twice a year and completely blows you away. It will be hard for me to explain exactly why I reacted so strongly to it, but as I have stated to friends I have mentioned it to, it feels like those dreams you have when you feel you truly understand and feel what love is, deep in your soul.
And that is more or less the intention of Portrait of a Lady on Fire – to ask us to see a love affair through the eyes of a poet and not just a lover. The idea being that love and loss, however fleeting or transient is a thing of infinite beauty, to be remembered and cherished despite the pain and anguish the entire package of falling in love and then separating contains. To even begin to construct a fiction that embodies that idea is an artistic feat beyond my comprehension. But also to go beyond just one idea and to achieve a multi layered work of such subtlety and elegance… wow… I simply do not know what to compare it to!? It is in a very small group of films that transcend all comparison, because they are just that good.
I knew nothing of Céline Sciamma, the writer and director of such unseen things as Tomboy and Water Lillies, but she is clearly an auteur of immense ability and vision, even though I gather this is a far better film than either of those mentioned. Likewise, the actresses Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel were absolute strangers to me. But, my word, their achievement was like a powerful magic potion. I have honestly never seen anything so close to real emotion and connection portrayed on film. Even in Blue is the Warmest Colour, another French film of high art that has obvious parallels, a film I love, there isn’t quite the degree of complete acceptance of the relationship as real, despite the naturalism of the style.
Here the context is set in a period of limitation and restraint, which only adds a dimension to the notion of pure feminine power. Notably, there is only one male presence in the film, he appears for less than 30 seconds and symbolises the cruelty of the World these amazing women have to inhabit in secret. This is an exploration of femininity in every glorious and sometimes painful and tragic way. To even think of telling the story with men in the frame would be to dilute its essence. And that is part of the genius, for men are merely myth in this fantasy, representing oppression, sadness and fear. The focus on the central relationship is handled with absolute perfection. Never dull, never too much or too little. A balancing act gossamer fine; so fine it almost disappears when you try to inspect it, like a fleeting memory of something infinitely personal and tender.
Having gone from being less than keen to see it, judging on the trailer and the theme (I can shy away from a romantic costume drama unless it is the very best), I am now in a place where I can’t imagine not listing it amongst my favourite films of the past decade. Everyone must see this. Ideally in the dark, or by candlelight, with headphones – because the sound design, sensual and wild like nature itself – is crucial to the mood. Even the deliberate lack of incidental music throughout, or anything resembling a soundtrack at all, only adds to the power and mystery of the one use of singing – a scene that will forever resonate with me as a cinematic moment that took my breath away and gave me shivers up my spine.
In all honesty, there will be people who don’t quite get it, there always are, and more fool them. There could barely be a film with less visceral action. Just brushstrokes, long walks by the sea, lingering looks and eating stew by a fire. However to say it isn’t an exciting film is simply not true. The romantic tension and sense of mystery as to what might happen had me on the edge of my seat throughout. I didn’t press pause once, and was astonished to find 2 hours had passed when it was over, so completely engrossed I had been. The minute it was over I also wanted to watch it again immediately. And for this genre, if it has a genre at all, that is a first.
As of today I haven’t gone back to it. But I fully expect it will only grow richer for repeat viewings. A prospect that lights me up, for sure. I live for finding little gems like this in cinema. To find one every now and again is just the best feeling. Please see it and spread the word if you haven’t already. Anyway, it won’t matter, Portrait of a Lady on Fire is destined to be thought of as a masterpiece for all time – I can see no other way it would go.
Decinemal Rating: 81
The Wasteland 