Demob Happy

La Graine et le mulet - Abdel Kechiche

7.5/10

As a resident of France I was a little surprised by recent article in the Guardian by Jason Solomons about the re-birth of the French film industry in the wake of the nation’s first Palme D’Or winner (’Entre Les Murs’/'The Classroom’) in many a year. Further citing the international popularity of ‘Bienvenue chez les Ch’tis’ (incredibly the biggest grossing film in France, ever) the article suggested an apparent purple patch for French film that could be the legacy of the Toubon law, legislation introduced in 1994 to promote and subsidise French cultural production. All this seems a bit of a mystery over here in Grenoble, since the large part of the French films produced annually appear frankly awful, and for every curious piece like ‘La Graine et le mulet’, ‘Un Conte de Noel‘ and ‘The Diving Bell and the Butterfly‘, there are hundreds more advertised that seem to test the boundaries of the banal: ‘LOL’, ‘Agathe Cléry’ (”Elle est blanche, raciste. Elle va devenir noire…”), Cédric Klapisch’s ‘Paris’, etc. Solomons argues that “the traditional French bourgeois drama is becoming a thing of the past”. Such films, he adds, “have tended to fall into two categories: the country house affair, with large family gatherings on sun-filled terraces; or the urbane Parisian comedy … “. Yet, the vast majority of French output still seems to fall roughly into these categories. To me, France is still capable, as it has always been, of producing at least a couple of excellent films per year, but the idea that we are witnessing a renaissance that can be traced back to the Toubon law seems something of a stretch. Meanwhile in the UK, the likes of ‘Atonement‘, ‘Man on Wire‘, and the films of Shane Meadows have done little to alter the perception that the British film industry is a dead horse due a good flogging. Mike Leigh’s return to form, ‘Happy-go-Lucky‘ was quite ignored in the UK, but received a rapturous reception abroad, especially (ironically) in France.

One of the films cited in Solomons’s article as a recent must-see of French cinema is Abdel Kechiche’s ‘La Graine et le mulet’, variously retitled ‘Couscous’ and ‘The Secret of the Grain’ for English-speaking audiences. A neo-realist drama set in the cultural melting pot of Sète, a port town in the Languedoc region of France, the film focuses on the trials of a extended, predominantly French-Tunisian family and the efforts of a taciturn father figure to better himself and unite his fragmented loved-ones. What struck me most about ‘La Graine et le mulet’ is the oppressive proximity of the characters’ lives, rendered through a relentless use of close up. We are not merely to observe the crampt quarters of banlieu apartment living, but we are squeezed into a make-shift place at the dining room table, elbow to elbow with the characters, implicated in their squabbles, their trivial banter. The sense of confinement is heightened by the mid-summer humidity, the sweaty closeness of the weather. The use of exterior shots is limited, and the authentic interiors are imposed on the viewer with suffocating persistence, so much so that at one point a jilted wife’s verbal assault on the family becomes so unbearable we will the protagonist to leave, and he does. Without spoiling the ending, it takes on an equally oppressive but more impressionistic and metaphorical quality: an endless dance to satisfy narrow minds, and a pursuit that is the very essence of futility. Set to hypnotic but slightly maddening North African folk music, these two parallel threads leave the viewer gasping for breath and situations unresolved. A naturalisitc, memorable work, whether it indicates a paradigm shift in French cinema remains to be seen.