By James Mottram
“I am the reason why your Cannes is so interesting – the pleasure’s all mine,” Nicolas Winding Refn told FilmInk on the penultimate day of this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Well, it’s true that The Neon Demon – his third competition entry after Drive and Only God Forgives – stirred a reaction. How could it not? With scenes of necrophilia and cannibalism, this pristine fashion industry satire about our obsession with beauty was always going to split the critics. The film stars Elle Fanning as Jesse, a virginal newcomer in LA who is soon knocking around with a group of Size 0 gals (including Melbourne-raised stars, Abbey Lee and Bella Heathcote) envious of her fresh-faced appearance. It’s a thing of beauty, with Cliff Martinez’ synth-heavy score, hallucinogenic visuals, and a great cameo from Keanu Reeves as a sleazy motel owner. But in truth, Refn was not the only reason this 69th edition of the world’s most famous film festival was so interesting.
Part of an official selection full of surprises, Paul Verhoeven’s Elle was just as twisted as Refn’s movie (somewhat predictably, both were overlooked when it came to the final awards). Based on the novel Oh.. by Philippe Dijan, Isabelle Huppert plays Michele, the CEO of a video game company who suffers a brutal rape in her home, only to discover the identity of her attacker, turning the tables on the rapist in the most intriguing of ways. Remarkably, Elle – his first French-language effort – was Verhoeven’s first film in Cannes competition since Basic Instinct in 1992. This time, there was no leg-crossing to get feminists flustered, but there can be no doubt that this is Verhoeven at his most mischievous. “He’s made a comedy about rape,” fumed one fellow critic, and undoubtedly Elle will infuriate some. But it’s a sophisticated adult treat, with the ever-intelligent Huppert at her best.
In fact, the only thing conventional at this year’s Cannes was the jury. Led by Australia’s own George Miller, one year on from his triumphant screening of Mad Max: Fury Road at the festival, the prize-giving was baffling. Not least for the fact that Maren Ade’s hugely popular German entry, Toni Erdmann, was completely ignored; proof once again that comedies rarely get recognised when it comes to awards. A father-daughter story set in Bucharest that’s both human and hilarious, Peter Simonischek plays Winfried, a divorcee who, following the death of his dog, pays an unexpected visit to his daughter, Ines (Sandra Hüller). Barely able to get his over-worked offspring’s attention, he takes to donning a wig and false teeth, inventing the persona of “Toni Erdmann.” It sounds odd, but it’s a genuine laugh-out-loud delight, full of surreal, absurd twists.
The jury’s choice for the Palme d’Or, while acceptable, was a safe selection. Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake was right in the veteran British director’s wheelhouse, with its left-wing attack on the United Kingdom’s welfare state. Dave Johns, a stand-up comedian by trade, gives a fine performance as a carpenter laid off sick who must deal with the endless forms and pencil-pushers as he tries to claim sickness benefits from The Department Of Work And Pensions. Touring Britain’s underclass, people who exist with the help of food banks, it’s a heartbreaking watch – and feels particularly poignant since it’s the fiftieth anniversary of Loach’s watershed homeless drama, Cathy Come Home. While the Palme d’Or means that Loach is only one of a handful of directors to have won it twice (his previous triumph was for 2006’s The Wind That Shakes The Barley), it felt more like a political – than an artistic – statement by the jury, rather like Michael Moore’s triumph with Fahrenheit 9/11.
More mystifying, however, was Xavier Dolan’s Grand Jury Prize – that’s second only to the Palme d’Or – for It’s Just The End Of The World. Adapted from the play by Jean-Luc Lagarce, this hysterical family drama starring Vincent Cassel, Marion Cotillard and Léa Seydoux was pitched to eleven throughout as Gaspard Ulliel’s prodigal son returns to break some momentous news. Almost entirely held in close-up, it proved a suffocating, insufferable experience, with none of the exuberance of Dolan’s last film, Mommy.
With no Australian films in competition, it was left to Joel Edgerton to fly the flag in Jeff Nichols’ 1950s-set competition entry, Loving. Having featured in Nichols’ recent film, Midnight Special, Edgerton took the lead as Richard Loving, a real-life bricklayer who found himself on the wrong side of Virginia law when he entered into an interracial marriage with his sweetheart, Mildred (Ruth Negga). It’s a methodical racial drama about how this ordinary blue collar couple helped change the law, though in truth, the film – notable in Edgerton’s performance – lacked real drama.
Equally disappointing was The Dardenne Brothers’ latest, The Unknown Girl, a quasi-procedural about a doctor (Adèle Haenel) investigating the death of an immigrant woman that she, briefly, comes into contact with. The two-time Palme d’Or winners are not to be ignored, but this fell short of anything profound, despite solid performances all round, including Dardenne regulars, Olivier Gourmet and Jérémie Renier. Like the Belgian brothers’ last film, Two Days, One Night, it went home empty-handed.
Another film that entirely (this time rather unfairly) missed out on prizes was Pedro Almodovar’s Julieta. Arguably it didn’t help that the film had already been released in Spain, to rather middling reviews, but it proved to be one of the director’s more engaging projects of recent years. Like the reverse of Toni Edrmann, it was the story of a mother and a daughter, one that stretches back over two decades with Emma Suárez and Adriana Ugarte playing Julieta at different stages of her life. A cultured watch.
Quite what the jury were doing when they overlooked Jim Jarmusch’s Paterson is another matter. Set in Paterson, New Jersey, Adam Driver plays a budding poet – also called Paterson – who drives a bus for a living. Acutely observed, this week-in-the-life is a perfectly judged film, a humorous and profound look at ambition, creativity, and love. It might just be the best movie since Jarmusch’s heyday of Stranger Than Paradise and Down By Law – soulful and less self-conscious than some of his more recent efforts.
The Best Director prize was split between Olivier Assayas’ Personal Shopper and Romanian director, Cristian Mungiu’s Graduation, another baffling decision that nevertheless encapsulated the spirit of this divisive and challenging Cannes. Assayas’ film is a ghost story starring Kristen Stewart that – like The Neon Demon – is set in the fashion world. The film was roundly booed at its press screening, and then gained five-star reviews from some quarters.
While Assayas’ film has its moments of intrigue (too few and far between to make a cohesive whole), Mungiu’s Graduation is a far more rigorous experience. Arguably, it should’ve claimed the Palme d’Or (the director won in 2007 for his abortion tale 4 Weeks, 3 Months, 2 Days). This movie, about a father whose teenage daughter is raped just before her high-school exam, is a dense, difficult tale about ethics and morals. And like so much in Cannes this year, it was richly rewarding.
