Claire Denis has revenge on her mind – or, more specifically, in her mood. In Bastards (Les salauds) the French writer/director colours her narrative with the pursuit of violence and vengeance, and her artistry with the impulsive, impertinent attitude of such, as story and style combine to sing the grimmest and gloomiest of tunes.
Denis’ relishing of a reprisal-laden air is unrelenting, laced with the aggression an unjust act brings, and manifested in the constant lurching between calm and chaos. Indeed, the film’s persistently pitiless temperament is palpable, plunging its protagonists deep into the darkness – and its audience along with them.
The film’s title tells all and yet says nothing, but proves far from a mere throwaway statement or cursory insult. Bastards, of the arrogant rather than illegitimate kind, provide the bulk of the feature’s characters; their ruthlessness and reprobate behaviour imparts the few fairer souls in their midst with ample motivation. Yet, in Denis’ and her constant co-scribe Jean-Pol Fargeau’s bleak and brutal world, the lines of moral fortitude are forever blurred. Heroes are as flawed as their antagonists, with protective siblings and victimised women capable of errors, and arbiters of evil more than one-dimensional villains.
Two fractured families spark the tension that builds in non-linear jumps and flashes: one mourning the loss of their patriarch, the other imbalanced by the power at their apex. The strong, silent Marco (Vincent Lindon, A Few Hours of Spring) leaves his post as ship’s captain to care for his bitter, bankrupted sister (Julie Bataille, Paris, je t’aime) after her husband’s (Laurent Grévill, I’ve Loved You So Long) untimely end, his troubles augmented by his niece’s (Lola Créton, After May) traumatic hospitalisation. Devoted mother Raphaelle (Chiara Mastroianni, Augustine) dotes on her young son (debutant Yann Antoine Bizette) with all the advantages his wealthy father – sleazy financier Laporte (Michel Subor, Last Winter) – brings, but can’t escape his watchful eye. Marco and Raphaelle’s paths cross as the former strives for retribution and the latter seeks relief, in and from their respective circumstances.
Bastards’ intertwining of its twin tales around the connective element of Laporte is purposefully elliptical; so too, its sense of truth and authenticity. In evoking the visceral reaction of retaliation, the film feels rather than thinks its way through a maze and haze of heightened emotion, showing more than telling its cryptic duplicity. Stunning bookends encapsulate all that the feature endeavours to be, filled with Denis’ expectedly composed touches and scored by the haunting electronic notes of her frequent collaborators, Tindersticks. A glimpse of deviance and deviousness also emanates from the striking sequences, heralding an uncharacteristic sense of disorientation.
Every element of the filmmaker’s 11th effort (following 2008’s 35 Shots of Rum and 2009’s White Material) is poised to provoke and probe – but still, something is missing. In a story that spans sexual abuse and monetary manipulation, every scene should seethe with complexity; instead, the director’s stylistic excess attempts to conceal the feature’s slightness. An increasingly confident and committed cast embody the requisite intensity and intrigue, yet their magnetism can’t mask the messy surroundings. There’s ample texture – of the grimy, galvanising type – in the expertly-crafted film that eventuates, but Bastards remains destructive despite its thematic and aesthetic immersion and ambition.
Rating: 3 stars out of 5
Bastards (Les salauds)
Director: Claire Denis
France / German, 2013, 100 mins
Melbourne International Film Festival
25 July – 12 August
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