This
is a deeply moving, gloomy and evocative film directed by Sébastien
Lifshitz about the relationship between three men, namely Stéphanie
(Stéphanie Michelini), who is a pre-op transsexual prostitute,
Djamel (Yasmine Belmadi) a French-Arab bisexual street hustler
and Mikhail (Edouard Nikitine) an illegal Russian immigrant
stuck in menial jobs to try to make ends meet. An unusual love
triangle (with a nod to Jules et Jim) and it’s made all
the more so by involving Stéphanie’s mother (Josiane
Stoléru) who by falling ill brings the three to Stéphanie’s
home town where, once there, she remembers her childhood as
a boy.
The film opens with
the recent Mercury Prize winner Anthony Hegarty (from Anthony
and the Johnsons) singing ‘I Fell in Love with a Dead
Boy’ (with the appropriate lyric ‘are you a boy
or a girl?’). Very apt and it’s a suitably soaring,
rousing song played against a backdrop of a parlour full of
Parisian transsexuals, neatly setting the tone for the rest
of this meditative and elliptical film. It’s shot with
an other-worldly, atmospheric beauty by the cinematographer
Agnès Godard (Beau Travail) and complimented with a haunting
score by Jocelyn Pook (Eyes Wide Shut), both evoking a sort
of dream-like reality to capture the inner turmoil of the three
men. Godard brilliantly uses the landscapes of the northern
French countryside with its barren and sparse beauty to show
the isolation and fractured reality the men exist in and with
the use of flashback techniques Lifshitz gives us a sense of
their ‘breaking apart’ as the characters themselves
appear broken and bruised; their only real sense of belonging
coming from their companionship with one another.
It’s definitely
unconventional filmmaking with its refusal to play by the usual
narrative arcs and with the dialogue being kept to a minimum
it is left almost entirely to the images to create the meaning
and the feelings of the characters making, along the way, a
sort of filmic poem. The cinematography is sensual and surreal
and the film is beautifully shot laying the lives of our protagonists
bare, while the film itself assesses their sense of family and
sexuality. The camera work is very intimate with lots of close-ups
of androgynous bodies. Lifshitz’s shot of what appears
to be a naked woman’s breast is soon turned on it’s
head when the camera pans down to reveal (by genitalia) that
this is in fact a man – a slightly jarring shot but one
that necessarily plays with the viewers ideas of identity and
gender. Throughout the film Lifshitz presents the three men
as a family unit, they seek solace – and find it –
with each other; Lifshitz romanticising rather than ostracising
them and this makes for moving cinema, strikingly realised by
Lifshitz, who rather than provoke just a sense of sympathy for
his characters, instead, shows us the often stark beauty involved
in their lives contrasted with the harsh reality of their day
to day living. It focuses on them without drawing unnecessary
conclusions and leaves it up to the camera and the actors to
draw our affections.
The film probably
won’t be to everybody’s tastes, but if you want
Hollywood you won’t be casting a glance at this. Even
with the lack of character development and minimal dialogue
it still treats its subjects with respect, while also being
much more mature filmmaking than, say, Britain’s recent
stab at male identity in crisis, the vapid and in comparison,
almost childish Kinky Boots. So, do as the man says and take
a walk on the Wild Side.