Review: "Frantz"

Director: Francois Ozon

Runtime: 113 minutes

At around the 50 minute mark, Francois Ozon pulls back the curtain on the big question lingering over his latest movie. It’s skillfully handled and beautifully acted, but then you realize that there’s still an hour left. What on earth can fill up that much time? Based on Ozon’s track record, anything is on the table. The remainder of Frantz, his latest endeavor, could meander and overstay its welcome. Or, just maybe, it has something else up its sleeve to justify laying its cards on the table so early. For those who have followed the director through his ups and downs, you can breathe easy. This time he’s not only sustained his narrative momentum, but actually built one of the most carefully layered stories of his career.

Ozon’s gift and curse has always been his efficiency. Like Woody Allen, he shoots quickly and hops from one project to the next. And, like Allen, this is not always a good thing. Ozon’s prolific nature means there are plenty of entries in his filmography that, while not bad, nevertheless feel half-baked. His previous effort, 2015’s The New Girlfriend, certainly suffered from his own speediness. As did 2014’s Young & Beautiful, which had its strengths (most notably its conclusion), but still felt a bit like a sketch, rather than a fully-realized idea.

But when Ozon really puts his mind to it, his efficiency can yield powerful dividends, as is the case with Frantz. In the tradition of Swimming Pool, Under the Sand, and 2013’s In the House (his most recent full-blown triumph), Frantz showcases the writer/director’s gifts working at full power. Ozon’s own restlessness, after a few cycles of disappointments, has once again manifested in the form of crisp, surprising storytelling anchored by intelligently chosen backdrops designed to enhance and inform the spare drama on screen.

Set in the the almost immediate aftermath of World War I, Frantz opens not in France, but in a rural village in Germany. There we meet Anna (luminous newcomer Paula Beer), a young woman mourning the death of her fiance (the titular Frantz), while doing her best to maintain a normal life among her would-be in-laws. Then one day she finds flowers on Frantz’s grave from an unknown mourner. Mere hours later, she meets the man responsible: a young Frenchman named Adrien (Pierre Niney, adorned with a toned-down Dali moustache). Anna’s father-in-law to be (Ernst Stotzner) is initially abhorred by the Frenchman’s presence (in his mind, any and all French men are guilty of his son’s death), but Anna and her mother in law (Marie Gruber) are more receptive.

Ozon introduces Adrien so quickly that it’s almost a shock he waits until 50 minutes or so before the big revelation. Yet all throughout there are both clues and red herrings, rendered with great subtlety through both the dextrous script and intuitive performances. Even before we grasp the extent of what’s going on, the nimble movements on the actors’ faces speak volumes. Said volumes only increase in meaning in retrospect, when the full weight of the story reveals itself.

One can easily make the argument that Ozon is France’s answer to Pedro Almodovar, and it shows here, albeit with less florid execution. Shot mostly in crisp black and white (calling to mind The White Ribbon), there are times when the secrets and half-truths of Frantz seems like they might collapse in a heap of melodrama. But, delicate as the set up may be, Ozon uncharacteristically maintains his balance the whole way through. There are no odd diversions or subplots. The more traditional mystery gives way to a deeper, richer examination of grief and perception, all plotted with an efficiency that miraculously never undercuts the emotional depth of the story.

With its big twist planted squarely in the middle, Frantz risks coming off as two separate stories vying for attention. But Ozon’s playfulness with structure continuously reveals itself to be a tremendous boon. The two halves of Frantz clever play off of each other, with the latter functioning as an inversion of the former. And in the second half, Ozon avoids mere repetition, and instead deepens both his characters and their existential quandaries. Ozon refrains from directorial theatrics, focusing instead on simply telling a story full of movement with exceptional control.

Aside from one character’s change of heart in the first 20 minutes, everything in Frantz flows together authentically. These are ordinary scenes in the hands of a gifted storyteller with the skills to bring out the extraordinariness lying just under the surface. So often with Ozon’s work, the lack of immediate passion in one’s response signals that a viewer is shrugging off a well-crafted yet hollow provocation. Here, however, the delayed response is only a tease, with the real treat lying in revisiting and replaying the conversations that oh-so-delicately prop up this sumptuous exercise in melodramatic classicism.

Grade: A-

Frantz opens in NY and LA on March 15, 2017.

Review: "Young and Beautiful"

Director: Francois Ozon
Runtime: 93 minutes

It seems strange to think that a story involving prostitution could double as a coming-of-age tale and/or character study. Yet the mix has been fertile ground for the likes of Chabrol's Violette, Bunuel's Belle du Jour, and most recently, Von Trier's Nymphomaniac. Joining the pack of this peculiar sub-genre now (frankly, I'm surprised it took so long) is French director Francois Ozon. The prolific auteur last hit American shores this time last year with the excellent In the House, and he'll likely have another project landing here somewhere in 2015. Suffice to say, the man moves quickly. Ozon's current gift may not deserve the superlatives thrown at In the House, but Young and Beautiful, a simple, efficient story of a self-managing teen prostitute, certainly has its merits. 

When we first meet Isabelle (lovely newcomer Marine Vacth), we see her through the lenses of her kid brother's binoculars. Unaware that she's being spied on, Isabelle removes her bikini top for a lazy afternoon of sunbathing in beach in southern France. Despite this blatantly objectifying opening, Ozon is quick to undermine the notion that Isabelle is nothing more than empty Gallic sex appeal. Once Isabelle returns home from her summer vacation (during which she both turns 17 and loses her virginity), she immediately decides to set herself up as a sex worker. 

Ozon has always avoided the laborious route when it comes to revealing motivation, but his approach here leaves one to wonder if there will be any point in the subsequent scenes. His filmmaking is as smooth as ever, and he never allows a scene to outstay its welcome. Yet the cost of such economical writing is that it puts more focus on the specifics of the scenes and characters. 

Despite its undeniable aesthetic competence, what keeps Young and Beautiful from joining the ranks of Ozon's finest is how surprisingly mundane everything feels. The script and direction avoid shock value or graphic detail (unlike, say, Nymphomaniac), but they also refuse to fully develop the ideas trapped just under the surface. Isabelle leads a double life filled with falsehoods, yet she can't stand the theater, which is built upon all sorts of artifice, from actors to sets. Though the film does feature a scene with Isabelle running into a client at a theater, the moment remains detached from its underlying irony. 

More satisfying is an encounter with a client who insists on oral sex, and then drives Isabelle home while blasting opera music. This juxtaposition of the carnal and the sophisticated, enhanced by the sleek editing, is the sort of thing that Young and Beautiful cries out for more of. On the flip side, Ozon's cheeky sense of humor is also largely absent. The film never strains for a dark or uncomfortable laugh, but these moments are rare and they evaporate almost before they're delivered. 

However, Young and Beautiful is not without its various successes. Ozon's pacing is commendable, as always, yet the real draw here is first-time performer Vacth. A model-turned-actress, the 23 year old handles the role with aplomb under Ozon's guidance. The film also works best when it captures Isabelle's adjustment to her secret profession, and the fallout that accompanies one unexpected meeting. This isn't a case of an untrained performer giving a "good enough" performance; it's an assured, effortless debut that hints at (hopefully) greater things to come as/if she pursues the craft further. Geraldine Pailhas delivers strong work as Isabelle's initially oblivious mother, and her confrontational scenes with Vacth are easily the best acted. 

Were it not for Vacth's peculiar, quiet radiance, best in show honors would go to a crucial cameo from Ozon regular Charlotte Rampling. Though her role is best unspoiled, the character is responsible for helping Young and Beautiful, and Isabelle's journey, avoid coming off as completely without growth or maturation. As always, Rampling takes mere minutes of screen time and injects years of feeling into them, to the point where she starts to offset the film's undercooked subtext. In its final scenes, Young and Beautiful starts to push past its routine narrative path and tap into the rich psychology bubbling underneath. Ozon has tackled complex emotions with shocking efficiency before (ex: his 2001 masterpiece Under the Sand), which is why his latest is a hint underwhelming despite its overall success. The efficiency and smooth storytelling remain, but unlike past efforts, Ozon has opted to leave the more enlightening aspects a bit too far off shore. They remain visible, but like Isabelle's brother in the opening scene, you'll need a pair of binoculars to really get a good look. 

Grade: B/B-

Review: "In the House"

Director: Francois Ozon
Runtime: 105 minutes

Despite functioning as a domestic thriller, there's something refreshing about the relative lightness of Francois Ozon's In the House. Recent acclaimed foreign imports have tended towards the heavier side. This February, Michael Haneke's Amour won the Foreign Language Film Oscar, and was preceded by Asghar Farhadi's A Separation. Both are excellent films, but they also take painfully honest looks at heavy subject matter. By contrast, In the House stands as a fun reminder that foreign imports need not all be emotionally exhausting in their excellence. 

Opening at the start of the school year at a French high school, In the House quickly introduces us to bored literature professor Germain (Fabrice Luchini). As his colleagues cheer an initiative to introduce uniforms to the school, Germain can only look on with reserved disdain. His sophomore class does little to inspire him either, regaling him with writing assignments detailing weekend events like eating pizza and losing a cell phone. Yet as Germain reads some of his papers aloud to his art curator wife Jeanne (Kristin Scott Thomas), he stumbles upon the work of Claude Garcia (Ernst Umhauer). Not only does Claude's story show actual effort, but it ends with a teasing "to be continued..." His interest piqued, Germain decides to help the quiet young man as he continues his observations, even as the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur.

Claude's observations center on his classmate Rapha Artole (Bastien Ughetto), and his parents Rapha Sr. (Denis Menochet) and Esther (Emmanuelle Seigner). Though he refers to them as "the perfect family," Claude's journals are quick to either gently mock the Artoles, or snidely point out the cracks in their facade. Rapha Sr. is struggling with problems at work, while Esther feels trapped as a housewife, constantly musing about everything from a grander home to abandoned career aspirations. Nearly all of this is relayed through extensive sequences that show us Claude's interactions with the Artoles, while Germain's dry voice over gives us the specifics of Claude's writing. 

And as much as In the House relies on simultaneously showing and telling its audience information, Ozon's screenplay never becomes bogged down with exposition. Loosely adapted from Juan Mayorga's play, Ozon's writing is infused with smart efficiency and an understated sense of black humor. For all of the film's satirical examinations of middle class life (Rapha's family and Germain's home alike), Ozon resists the temptation to become smug with his observations. Many similarly themed films sink themselves by trying too hard to be clever, both in plotting and in dialogue. In the House, under Ozon's assured direction, never has to strain to accomplish its goals, and glides along with ease. 

Just as assured is the work from the ensemble, which is filled with both returning Ozon players and new talent. At the head of the story is Luchini, who infuses all of his scenes with a quiet mix of sarcasm and desperation. It creates the feeling that, at any given moment, In the House could snap from satire to tragedy, and vice versa. Though Germain is ultimately the observer in the story, Luchini never allows the role to become purely passive. His obsession with guiding Claude's writing is the driving force behind the narrative, much to the film's benefit. Then there's newcomer Umhauer, who has the film's trickiest role, yet never creates a false moment. Umhauer's sly, even lustful, gazes could have been over-the-top, yet the young actor never turns Claude into a caricatured devil child. This is most evident in the film's last act, when Claude's control over Germain is broken, and the consequences of his actions emerge.

Backing the leading duo up are a string of solid turns, namely Scott Thomas' increasingly flustered Jeanne. Like several of the roles in In the House, Jeanne could have been turned into an over-the-top cartoon. Thankfully, Ozon and Scott Thomas stay comfortably in line with the film's tone, and turn Jeanne into an engaging foil for Germain. At times, you almost wish that the film would focus entirely on their relationship. And, though their characters are practically pawns for Claude, Seigner, Menochet, and Ughetto infuse the Artoles with a humanity that makes them more than the butt of Claude's writing. 

At the head of it all is Mr. Ozon, whose direction has a controlled and refined maturity that has clearly been the result of his last few films. Though still playful, the director has come a long way since lighter delights like the murder-mystery musical 8 Women. The characters here are more rounded, and treated more seriously. Even though the script doesn't directly engage with some of the characters' underlying conflicts (Claude's injured father, Germain's failed writing career), the interactions efficiently establish these people as more than pawns for Ozon to toy with. In the House does not aim for full-blown Greek tragedy in its later and darker scenes, but the (slightly rushed) last act does have genuine emotion coursing through its veins. Ozon may handle the emotions with a deft, light touch, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't take them seriously. 

Likewise, the film's musings on storytelling, specifically the relationship between creator and spectator, are handled briskly. In addition to his marvelous writing and control of tone, Ozon deserves to commended for his energetic (yet never frenetic) and tight pacing. Credit should also go to the simple-but-natural cinematography and energetic score for propelling the story along so beautifully. There's little to no rush, and certainly no drag. Rather than wallow in Germain's boredom (only found in the opening scene or so), In the House establishes its protagonist's state of mind, and then plunges the viewer into its carefully escalating tale. 

There's a seamlessness to the writing and directing that constantly keeps one on edge, without going overboard. The Ozon from a decade ago might have gone over-the-top in teasing the audience with the reality vs. fiction aspect of the story. Yet the new, more mature Ozon lets the story simply go along, uninterrupted by any sort of need to show off. Rather than display arrogance, the director has opted for a welcome slice of restrained confidence, both in himself and in his audience. That confidence is felt from the mundane opening, to the masterful final shot, one that cements In the House as one of 2013's best films, as well as one of the year's best surprises. 

Grade: A-