For us movie critics, a Bat Signal blazes in the sky whenever a French foreign film hits theaters.
Rather than a call to fight crime, this signal is a beacon letting us know it's time to dive into our pathetic cars that all the girls laugh at and speed off to attend something boring that no one else cares about. (That's why, instead of a bat, our signal is shaped like a high school.) Yet unlike Batman, who has a secret cave to hide in if he's feeling antisocial or hungover, if we don't heed the call of our signal, our editors whip us within an inch of our lives. They're very bad men.
So forget the fact that my other viewing choices this weekend were a) jocks join the cheer squad in order to get laid or b) young male actor dresses up as fat old woman in order to drive us to suicide. There was simply no way I was missing the French film I've Loved You So Long. Truth is, reading subtitles makes us feel better than you -- and in the end, isn't that the noblest condition man can attain?
Though Kristin Scott Thomas and Elsa Zylberstein are sisters, they're almost strangers. Fifteen years ago, Thomas was sent to prison; their parents forbade Zylberstein to see her. But now their parents are gone, Thomas is being released, and Zylberstein and her family are the only ones who will take her in.
Thomas is haunted, distant, given to flashes of anger. Her presence -- and her crime -- starts to stress Zylberstein's marriage. Yet in time, the emotional ice around Thomas shows signs it's starting to thaw.
Sounds like a real barn burner of a plot, right, but I've Loved You So Long strives first and foremost for realism, thus trading the laser-charged staff-fighting so common in other dramas for strong, relatable characters and a good feel for day-to-day life. Except in this case, "day-to-day life" means "struggling to cope with the crushing guilt of your heinous, heinous crime."
It's that numb guilt that dominates Thomas' performance. She's a walking ghost, so torn up by her past she's almost incapable of conversation or basic civility. Worst of all, based on what she's done, she may be right to feel that way.
Yet somehow -- maybe because she doesn't attempt to defend or justify herself -- it's hard to condemn her. As a test of our moral sensibilities, writer/director Philippe Claudel's sermon-free approach is a fair one; oh, Thomas is definitely going to hell for what she's done, but since Claudel never tries to manipulate us into forgiving her -- well, not until the end, at least -- she stays too human to just write off.
That's enough to keep things engaging even when the episodic story starts to drift. Realism's a double-edge sword: it usually lets for better insight into real life than movies where the big question is whether the hero will be able to crash his motorcycle into that death-spitting helicopter, but except in the crude terms of being born, existing, and then dying, real life doesn't exactly have the beginning, middle, and end that some old guy once decided were important things for stories to have.
Despite its handicap of mirroring our dull and formless lives, the movie stays reasonably cohesive while giving itself room for interesting sidetracks like Thomas' lonely but charming parole officer. Still, if accurately capturing the confusion of existence is what ultimately makes I've Loved You So Long worth watching, I wonder if its ending doesn't go too far to absolve her. It's an easy way out for everyone, but the woman who has to live with it.
Grade: B