France (2021)
Directed by Bruno Dumont
ARP Sélection, 134 minutes, Unrated
In French with subtitles
★★
France is French, but the title references its main character France de Meurs (Léa Seydoux), a TV “journalist.” I put journalist inside quote marks for a reason. If you’ve seen network news lately you know that anchors as often celebrities rather than serious reporters.
France de Meurs is a huge celebrity idol. She’s knock-me-over gorgeous, capable of holding her own in weighty political discussions–she even gets the better of Emmanuel Macron–asks hard questions, and provides dramatic footage for her viewers. I suppose I could be acidic and say we know she’s not a real TV journalist because she asks hard questions, but it’s the footage about which we should be cynical. France is often the center of the action, as we see her helmeted and running past explosions with gunfire whizzing past in the background. Or we see her in North Africa interviewing Tuareg fighters and in a boat with refugees. Because we see behind the scenes–de Meurs shadowed by her persistent assistant Lou (Blanche Gardin)–we know that most of the broadcast is staged and as phony as a histrionic supermarket tabloid headline.
France is part Network (1976) and part Wag the Dog (1997). If only director Bruno Dumont had stayed the course, France could have been a decent update of those two classic black comedies. You’ve probably read past reviews in which I’ve spoken of the inherent difficulties of mixing satire with drama. It can be and has been done successfully, but France crumbles like a week-old croissant when it wants us to turn serious.
We observe that France is a workaholic whose job has made her rich. She, her author husband Fred (Benjamin Biolay), and their son Joseph (Jojo) live in a fancy well-appointed home, but they could be the poster children for the bored bourgeoisie. The marriage is loveless, Jojo is more a fixture than a son, and many of their friends exist largely to worship France. Thus, when France absent-mindedly knocks over a motorbike rider in Paris traffic, she snaps under the toxicity of her situation.
If this turning point had been less cartoonish, the drama part of the film would have been more compelling. Instead, France turns Florence Nightingale-meets-Andrew Carnegie. She visits Baptiste (Jewed Zemmar), the young man she injured, in the hospital and his home. His wounds aren’t serious and his starstruck parents assure de Meurs all is well. Yet, when France discovers Baptiste was largely supporting his immigrant mother and unemployed father, she turns Florence Nightingale-meets-Andrew Carnegie and lavishes money and gifts upon them. She also announces she’s done with TV when French scandal sheets come down on her. Good deed, a revelation, or just a guilty conscience?
Bruno and the script writers veer toward farce. France returns to TV, is caught in a different scandal, heads off to a Bavarian sanitorium in the dead of winter to clear her head, meets Charles Castro (Emmanuelle Arioli), and gets punked in still another scandal. Only then does some moral reasoning kick in–just in time for tragedy, a soul-shaking interview, and an embrace of fate. Is this drama or melodrama hiding behind a cynical veil? You can decide, but either way we have two halves of one movie that are the equivalent of a befuddled carpenter trying to force-fit unmatched ends.
Léa Seydoux, whom you might have seen in Blue is the Warmest Color, is a good choice for the sort of blonde beauty that Fox News would hire, a look-at-me face who you stare at rather than analyze her words. Seydoux is, however, a bit stiff when she moves and I can’t tell whether that’s her or the way she was directed. Though she’s in a supporting role, Blanche Gardin, a French actress/comedienne, is ultimately more convincing in her role. She has two dots on her nose and tilts her head to express moods through them. She’s also excellent at shifting between being worshipful, manipulative, and playing CYA. The rest of the cast has presence without gravitas.
You’d have to watch to get what I mean about Gardin. Is it worth it? I’m tempted to tell you to dust off Network and Wag the Dog to see what France could have been. If not, just know that France isn’t as good as it looks.
Rob Weir
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