Beineix’s Diva

Opera singer Cynthia Hawkins is the opposite of Glenn Gould. She refuses to record, because she believes music requires an immediate relationship with a live audience. Jules is her biggest fan, but he is also a compulsive taper, even more so than the average Deadhead. He thinks he is being chased around Paris for a tape of her latest concert, but it is really a case of wrong-place-at-the-wrong time. The resulting noir misadventures became one of the biggest breakout hits for French cinema in America during the 1980s. It still looks great and holds up mightily when Jean-Jacques Beineix’s Diva re-releases in 35mm tomorrow at Film Forum.

Jules is a slightly obsessive fan who taped Hawkins’ latest concert and also impulsively stole her shawl. Unbeknownst to him, two dodgy Taiwanese record label sharks saw him do it—the taping that is. Of course, they would very much like to release that tape.

The next day, a prostitute-informer hopes to turn over an incriminating cassette to the police, but an ice pick in her back forces her to ditch the tape in Jules’ mailbag. Suddenly, he finds himself hunted by two colorful thugs, “The Caribbean” and “The Priest” out to protect their boss, Saporta, the chief of the homicide squad, who also happens to be the kingpin of a human trafficking ring. Jules is way out of his league, but he finds help from two recent acquaintances, Alba, a young kleptomaniac French-Vietnamese model, and her ambiguous lover, Serge Gorodish, a reclusive pianist.

Diva is super-slick and uber-stylish. You can really see where 1980s slicksters like Adrian Lyne and Tony Scott could have stolen a lot from Beineix’s film. The timing is right for revisiting/rediscovering Diva, given the prominent role Beinneix’s Betty Blue plays in the recent cheesy Netflix weeper, The In Between. Together, the two films firmly established Beineix as an auteur of flashy excess, but Diva is considerably more fun.

Frankly, it is bizarre that neither Thuy An Luu or American opera diva Wilhelmenia Fernandez became big-screen stars after Diva, because there are most deeply seductive and intriguing as Alba and Hawkins, respectively. Ironically, the thesp who probably got the most mileage out of the film was Dominique Pinon, who is definitely cool and creepy as the sinister Priest. As poor Jules, Frederic Andrei is probably the only cast-member who isn’t colorful, but we feel for the sad sack. Richard Bohringer’s Gorodish is also somewhat restrained, but his sly ethical ambiguity definitely keeps viewers guessing, especially if they do not Beineix and Jean Van Hamme adapted their screenplay from one of Delacorte’s “Alba/Gorodish” novels.

Betty Blue Uncut

Betty is mentally unstable and Zorg is an enabler. Isn’t love grand? After exploding on the scene with Diva, Jean-Jacques Beineix followed-up with Betty Blue, the turbulent love-story of the passionate Betty and her handyman boyfriend. Despite bringing renewed international buzz to French cinema with its initial 1986 release, Beineix's definitive cut never screened theatrically in America, though it was briefly available on home video. Happily, Betty Blue: the Director’s Cut will finally hit American screens, beginning with its New York opening this Friday.

After just one week together, it is clear to Zorg being with Betty is an intense experience. She is beautiful, but her behavior can be erratic. Things are usually fine when they are alone, but when outsiders intrude, like Zorg’s leering boss, she lashes out at provocations, both real and imagined. While hurling Zorg’s possessions out their shack window during a periodic fit, Betty stumbles across his long abandoned novel. Convinced of his genius, she types up his notebooks and begins submitting them to publishers, beginning a long chain of disappointments that will further destabilize her mental condition.

Life with Betty seems to follow a pattern. Things start out great, but then something upsets her, leading to an episode of acting out, like burning down their shack or attacking a publisher who rejected Zorg’s dubious manuscript. Eventually, calm returns, but the cycles continue, becoming more dramatic each time.

Beineix’s film is most definitely intended for adults. As Betty and Zorg, Béatrice Dalle and Jean-Hugues Anglade have no secrets from viewers, since neither of their characters seems to own a robe. Dalle is also frequently in a state of extreme emotional exposure, simultaneously violent and vulnerable. It is a harrowing, unforgettable performance.

Betty Blue is a dark, disturbing love story, but not a cynical one. There are some tender moments that seem to make all the chaos worthwhile for the couple, evidently more of which are to be found in the extended director’s cut. They are quite effectively underscored by Gariel Yared’s haunting theme. In a particularly poignant scene, Zorg and Betty even play it on-screen as piano duet during the wake for a friend’s mother.

With a running time just over three hours, Betty Blue is longer than most historical epics, yet it never feels padded or excessive. Like Betty herself, the film varies drastically in mood, swinging from slapstick comedy to realistic tragedy, but there is always logic to its mania. It is an exhausting film, more for its emotional ups and downs rather than its considerable length, which deserves it critical acclaim and notoriety.

It opens Friday in New York at the Cinema Village, with subsequent openings set for Los Angeles’s Nuart July 3rd, Denver’s Starz Film Center August 21st, the Landmark Kendall Square in Boston September 11th, and the Landmark E-Street in D.C. on October 2nd.