The Widow of
St. Pierre
Directed by Patrice Leconte
Written by Claude Feraldo
Starring: Juliette Binoche, Daniel Auteuil, Emir
Kusturica, Phillippe Magnan
and
Michel Duchaussoy.
(opens March 16 @ Ritz Theaters)
* * 1/2
(Two and One Half Stars)
Opening with a tortured
fishing vessel in the throes of a storm which recalls Joseph Conrad novels,
the action is incited as two stragglers who have been lost in the Newfoundland
fog board the ship and return to the island of St. Pierre with the crew.
These brief moments set the mood for the film definitively: the wide screen
images of a tossing ship dodging murky sea spray amidst cold crashing waves,
men tying big, tough rope to faded, wet wood and all running about aboard
the ship like chickens with their heads cut off. When the ship docks on
the tiny island, everyone aboard busies themselves making a beeline for
the nearest pub in order to fuddle themselves something wicked. One of
the men, Neel Auguste, tagging along after losing his way on the
ocean commits a drunken murder and is quickly sentenced to the guillotine
(called "the widow" in this time period), which does not yet exist in the
town of St. Pierre. He is remanded to the custody of a clever, warm jailer
simply called the Captain (Auteuil), whose wife Madame La (Oscar nominee
Binoche, here speaking her original language and acting) immediately
takes a shine to him and makes it her mission - life and marriage be damned
- to set him free.
The symbolism the film sets
in motion deals with a new attitude in France during the nineteenth century,
directly after the birth of the second republic. While an extended arm
far from the mother land, St. Pierre represents the power of a sovereign
as the thrust is cast and the struggle to secure an implement to behead
the criminal is undertaken. It seems that the paradox of the death penalty
(modernized almost to laughable means here), when carried over into small
town life, becomes an empowerment issue for the elected officials. Main
characters The Captain and Madame La are lost in the swirling issue which
elevates as the search for an executioner becomes dire. Neel appears all
over town, doing work without escaping, like a civilized person paying
for his crimes. The hierarchy of St. Pierre, however, want him to die (as
an example derived from orders originating in France). The predicament
becomes more and more outrageous as the film proceeds, page markers in
place and the whole affair beginning to play like a beach novel. The
Widow St. Pierre floats in message movie territory when it belongs
on period narrative ground as it is a true story and the characterizations
are particularly interesting.
Playing Neel is director
Emir Kusturica (Black Cat, White Cat), who looks as unkempt as possible,
radiating his heart of sorrow and humane repentance between the dirty hairs
and ragged clothing he sports. He's the kind of actor a director usually
makes: very naturalistic and willing to disappear behind more showy, outward
performances. Binoche (whom I've seen in her native tongue only once before,
in Kieslowski's Trois Coloures : Bleu) is entirely commanding. As
the thoughtful and entirely giving Madame La, she demonstrates what made
her such a standout: her ability to ration her appearance. It is something
Meryl Streep does with every role. Binoche has no qualms about blending
a homely exterior with an engaging agenda and quickly, sometimes in the
next sequence, becoming absolutely breathtaking in her beauty and delivery.
Her chemistry with Auteil is superior and, in part, due to how well Auteil
plays on Leconte's interest in the
why of relationships (in last
year's The Girl on the Bridge, Leconte envisioned Auteil and actress
Vanessa Paradis as a knife thrower and his target, deeply in love - and
obsessed with the amount of compromise the act placed on both of them required).
Here, Auteil is given a role that is at once entirely likable (he stands
by his woman) and embodies the authoritative rush of a police officer.
He is a man in charge of his own world who says and does what he believes
and possesses a fiery passion for the woman he loves. Only the second film
I've seen Auteil in, I am mesmerized by how slick and winning he is. (I'm
guessing it would be ineffective to say I think he is extremely good looking,
for obvious reasons).
While The Widow of St.
Pierre comes dangerously close to being one of those picturesque failures
(pretty to look at but a mouthful too much to swallow). It certainly runs
the gamut of emotions. As Leconte has given us films like Monsieur Hire,
Ridicule
and the aforementioned The Girl on the Bridge, falling short
on delivering a theme that isn't entirely too heavy-handed or, in some
moments, outright preposterous, doesn't necessarily stifle his body of
work. I still find him to be one of the better directors (along with Michael
Mann, P.T. Anderson and Lars Von Trier) utilizing the entire canvas the
frame. By creating the mannered, suggestive beauty of a rectangle that
is a Patrice Leconte film, a visual interest is almost enough to demand
our respect even when narrative undertones become too lofty to complement
the eye candy. Similar problem in The Girl on the Bridge, which
possessed more beauty than content, but sufficed in how offbeat and whimsical
it was. Though I don't find The Widow of St. Pierre to be much more
than expertly stylized melodrama with several pleasant performances, it
still works marvelously as entertainment.
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