Claire Denis has an almost-unparalleled gift for blending
poeticism and realism, a combination once again seamlessly achieved in 35 Shots of Rum, her magnificently
understated and piercing portrait of the difficulty of letting go. With a tip
of the hat to Yasujiro Ozu via the recurring sight of trains (specifically, the
dawn, midday and dusk views out their lead cars’ front windows), Denis subtly
addresses the inexorable forward march of time – as well as the desire to halt
that progress and remain in immediate moments of bliss – through the story of
metro conductor Lionel (Alex Descas), his grown daughter Josephine (Mati Diop),
their neighbor and Josephine’s potential romantic interest Noé (Grégoire
Colin), and Lionel’s sometimes girlfriend, taxi driver Gabrielle (Nicole
Dogue). Lionel and Gabrielle have professions defined by movement, and the story’s
focus is on their (and Josephine and Noé’s) attempts to cling to a current situation
that’s slipping through their fingers or pine for one already lost, whether it
be Lionel’s desire to have Josephine remain at home, Noé’s inability to move
out of (and sell all the furniture within) his parents’ apartment, or
Gabrielle’s longing for earlier days when Josephine was young and she and
Lionel were closer. Such issues, also felt in the difficult transition into
retirement experienced by Lionel’s colleague René (Julieth Mars Toussaint),
permeate 35 Shots, which expresses
its individual, familial and romantic relationships and tensions with an
affecting blend of lived-in authenticity and graceful lyricism. Once again
working with moody Brit band Tindersticks and cinematographer par excellence Agnes Godard, whose work here is
both silky and warm, Denis depicts everyday details (buying a rice cooker,
going to work) and conveys overarching emotional upheavals with a compassion
and gentleness that’s quietly devastating. More straightforward than The Intruder, her keenly observed latest
pinpoints the pain and joy felt by parents and children as they learn to move
on, never more so than in a sumptuous late-night café sequence that casts drinking
and dancing as mechanisms for her characters’ process of gauging, changing and defining
viewpoints.
I think both Denis in this film and Hou Hsiao-Hsien in last year's "Flight of the Red Balloon" use their very different aesthetics to capture essentially the same thing: the patient realism of everyday life; Hou with his signature, still, long takes and Denis with her typically more intimate approach. They both do the general mentality of Ozu's cinema considerable justice, and I think they're major highlights in two very distinguished careers. Nice review.
Posted by: Sam C. Mac | October 05, 2009 at 12:23 AM