Metamorphoses: Honore Does Ovid

The ancient Greeks told shape-shifting stories millennia before Kafka and dozens of tawdry paranormal romance writers, but it was the Roman poet Ovid who really crystallized the theme. As France becomes increasingly multicultural (and Mediterranean), why shouldn’t the Greco-Roman gods reassert themselves, like Apollo in Star Trek? Christophe Honoré modernizes Ovid’s epic poem, envisioning the Olympians living in the grubby Parisian suburbs, just as randy and petty as they ever were in Metamorphoses (trailer here), which opens this Thursday in Brooklyn.

Europa is the daughter of immigrants living in the projects, but she is still a princess to Jupiter, a morally degenerate but roguishly charming truck driving. He makes no bones about abducting her and she is happy to go along for the ride. Of course, they will have to avoid his jealous wife Juno, especially when he explains what she did to Io, another princess who was unfortunately caught in a compromising position with Jupiter.

Over the course of several days, Europa will fall under and out of Jupiter’s spell, hear a bounty of stories, spend time with Bacchus, and get swept up in King Cadmus’s personality cult. Some vignettes are stronger than others, but their net effect compounds with each re-told myth. Frankly, it is eerily logical how aptly these tales of arbitrary cruelty and self-absorbed vanity fit in our current day and age.

Arguably, the two highlights depict the Juno’s blinding of the future oracle Tiresias (memorably played by Rachid O.) and the ill-fated romance of Atalanta and Hippomenes, initially fueled and then sabotaged by the goddess Venus. For extra bonus points, Honoré stages the scene of their supernaturally overheated love-making session on the floor of a store-front mosque, so stand by for the professional outrage police.

As Jupiter, Sébastien Hirel manages to be sinister (in a Joyce Carol Oates kind of way), but also displays the shortsighted immaturity of a man-child. That might sound rather unappealing, but it is a neat trick to pull off, rather in keeping with the mythological source material. Mélodie Richard plays Juno like a nag from Hades, again in keeping with Ovid, Edith Hamilton, and Rick Riordan. Amira Akili perfectly serves as a somewhat naïve audience surrogate, but frankly she looks disturbingly young for her sex scenes with Jupiter. On the other hand, Gabrielle Chuiton and Jean Courte lend the film a shot of poignant dignity as the proto-Christian Samaritans, Philemon and Baucis.

Despite, or maybe because of its messiness, Metamorphoses might be Honoré’s best film to date. Shrewdly, he avoids pedantic one-for-one parallels, striving to transpose the spirit of Ovid’s myths, more than the letter. He also keeps the physical transformations discretely off-camera, which actually heightens the sense of mystery. When it works, it works. Recommended for literate viewers, Metamorphoses screens five nights at the Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn, starting this Thursday (3/23) and opens a week-long run at the Arena Cinema in Los Angeles this Friday (3/24).

Beloved: Honore’s New Movie Musical

Prague and Paris have to be two of the most romantic cities in the world.  Yet, a mother and daughter have relationship issues in both European capitals.  It seems like codependent sexual dysfunction runs in their family in Christophe Honoré’s latest movie musical, Beloved (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Beloved opens in swinging sixties Paris, as Honoré revisits his acknowledged Jacques Demy influences.  It is like a fairy tale, in which shopgirl Madeleine falls in love with Jaromir, one of the prostitution clients she sees on the side.  It’s a French fairy tale.  After Jaromir completes his specialized medical studies, she moves to Prague with him, becoming his wife.  Soon, the hotshot doctor acts like he also has a license to philander, but his wife refuses to recognize it.  Things come to head just as the Soviet tanks start rolling through the streets of Prague.

Madeleine divorces Jaromir but she never gets him out of her system.  Even though separated by distance and ideology, he maintains a hold on her, despite her second marriage to an adoring gendarme.  It will be a pattern that somewhat repeats for her daughter Vera.  Her colleague Clément is devoted to her, but she only has eyes for Henderson, a rock drummer from New York, who happens to be (mostly) gay.

Anyone who has ever considered themselves losers for carrying a hopeless torch will feel much healthier once they watch Vera pine away her life.  Initially it is rather uncomfortable, but it gets downright tragic.  Beloved is far from your typically bubbly movie musical, but it works better than Honoré’s prior attempt, Love Songs, largely because the characters are not as irritating and the situations are less stifling.  Beloved can make viewers wince, but it also gives them air to breathe.

Honoré walks quite a tightrope, using perhaps the two greatest post-war tragedies, the 1968 Soviet Invasion of Czechoslovakia and September 11^th, as backdrops for his mercilessly intimate drama.  Honoré focuses exclusively on the micro level, where painful personal conflicts continue unabated, even when the wider world is turned upside down.  Nonetheless, some of the “internal contradictions” of post-Prague Spring Czechoslovakia are duly noted and images of the 1968 invasion are suitably ominous.  Given their visceral nature, the scenes of 2001 Montreal (where Vera’s flight was diverted) are somewhat iffier, flirting with exploitation by mere association.

Happily, Milos Forman never sings in Beloved, but he is perfectly cast as the old charmingly degenerate Jaromir of 2008.  In contrast, Honoré alumnus Chiara Mastroianni handles her husky vocal features fairly well and keeps viewers vested in her angst far more compellingly than in his outright maddening Making Plans for Lena.  Her real life mother Catherine Deneuve has some nice moments as Twenty-First Century Madeleine, but it is totally the sort of diva-centric character we are accustomed to see her assume.  In contrast, Ludivine Sagnier is appropriately spritely as young Madeleine in the early Cherbourg-esque scenes.  Louis Garrel (son of Philippe) is his usual sullen screen presence as Clément, but American Paul Schneider is surprisingly engaging as the commitment-phobic Henderson.

As a musical, Beloved works rather well, thanks to some frequently distinctive songs penned by Alex Beupain.  They certainly fit the vibe and context of the film (as well as any movie musical tunes ever do) and often serve to advance the story.  While it is a bit overstuffed with characters and hoped for significance, it is definitely one of Honoré’s better works.  Recommended on balance for Francophiles and those who appreciate moody musicals, Beloved opens this Friday (8/17) in New York at the IFC Center.

Honore’s Making Plans for Lena

Léna is the sort of person who compulsively avoids making decisions and then resents being told what to do. She is also a mother—good luck kids. Indeed, the family drama is often quite messy in Christophe Honoré’s Making Plans for Léna (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

With the help of her father, Léna recently walked out on her English husband Nigel and her hospital job. Her family would like to know what she intends to do now, but she has no idea, responding only with anger when questioned. Inviting Nigel to join them during a family holiday in Breton does not help either. Though she is understandably put out by his presence, her parents seem to recognize he is a slightly more stable influence for their grandchildren than their eternally finding-herself mother.

Naturally, Léna makes the holiday miserable for everyone, fighting with Nigel, precipitously leaving, only to turn around and come straight back, just in time to run into her brother’s friend Simon (played with admirable restraint by Louis Garrel), whom she may or may not be romantically interested in. Surprisingly, she just cannot make up her mind which. Eventually, the grandparents leave on their Italian vacation and their ostensibly grown children return to Paris, but their dysfunctional behavior patterns remain unchanged.

It is certainly a testament to Chiara Mastroianni’s performance and Honoré’s uncomfortably intimate direction just how excruciating it can be spending time with Léna. In a way, Plans follows in the tradition of 1970’s films starring Jill Clayburgh, but it has a distinctly French sensibility. It also has the courage of its convictions, rather boldly concluding with a scene perfectly in keeping with Léna’s well established emotional issues, instead of imposing a pat feel-good ending of feminist empowerment.

Perhaps audience reactions to Plans will cleave along gender lines, but one would think most women would find Léna’s parenting highly problematic. Still, the relationship between her and her highly intuitive son Anton is convincingly developed. It is also provides a strange fantastical interlude, when he recounts the Breton legend of Kallet Gollet (Catherine the Damned), whose significance within the film is not immediately revealed, beyond what it might suggest of his state of mind.

As annoying as Léna’s petulant indecision might be, rather than passive-aggressive she is aggressively passive, her scenes with both Nigel and Simon have an honest intensity. The French-American Jean-Marc Barr is particularly nuanced as Nigel, believably exasperated yet still credibly attracted to his unstable ex. However, the comfortable but loveless marriage of her parents seems like a rather obvious (almost clichéd) counterpoint.

Even 109 minutes with Léna is trying, but credit Honoré and Mastroianni for not sugar-coating or soft-pedaling their depiction of maternal confusion. A film easier to respect than to love, Plans opens this Friday (8/20) in New York at the IFC Center.