Seydoux shows her range in ‘France’
People may be confused by “France” and not like it on that basis. What will confuse them is the movie’s intent. It’s a story about a celebrity journalist, but writerdirector Bruno Dumont isn’t explicitly making a commentary on celebrity, journalism or modern France, or about the kind of person who thrives in such a media environment.
In a sense, he’s doing all those things, but none so pointedly or thoroughly that anyone can say, “The message of the movie is Dumont is not about having a message here. He’s about sharing impressions, about playing variations on a set of themes. He’s about creating a complex portrait of a human being getting blown around by the winds of modern life and the demands of her own conscience.
It’s hard to imagine anyone in the central role other than Lea Seydoux. After seeing her playing at half strength in “No Time to Die” — and seeing her naked and exploited by Wes Anderson in “The French Dispatch” — it’s a pleasure to find her on her home turf, in a role that captures her full range.
In the movie’s first scene, France de Meurs (Seydoux), a nationally known TV news personality, goes to a news conference with the intention of getting the best of French President Emmanuel Macron. She asks a barbed question and then clowns with her producer, barely paying attention to the answer.
At this point, it would be reasonable to assume that Dumont intends for “France” to be an absurdist comedy. Soon, we see France reporting on a civil war from inside some benighted Middle Eastern country, barking instructions to her photographer to get the best angles and making sure that her reaction shots simulate the appropriate portion of empathy.
Yet, before we can dismiss her as a lightweight, we can’t help but notice that France is good at her job. Whatever the source of her courage — oblivion or ambition — she is definitely brave. She seems in these early scenes like a zany person with an unaccountable gift. An American movie might have treated such a character as a joke.
Here, she’s hard to pin down.
A pivot comes early in the film, when she is involved in a minor car accident that injures a man on a scooter. The event’s consequences are minor in regard to France’s external life, but internally, it seems to awaken a sadness within her. Most of what follows concerns itself with France’s attempt to climb out of her despondency and into a life that has more meaning.
Yet the way I’m describing this makes her journey sound more clear-cut than it is. “France” is more prose than poetry. We follow this idiosyncratic woman, who laughs when nothing is funny, lacks fear when things are terrifying and gets depressed for little reason, and we become fascinated by her turns of mind. With Seydoux, we believe in France’s reality. Her despair runs deep and suggests depths within this woman that are hidden to herself.
The film’s other notable performance is that of Blanche Gardin, as France’s producer and friend. In a full-blown comic turn, Gardin plays her as morally vacant and absolutely adoring, and she’s a delight in every scene.
In “France,” Dumont has not created a commentary on modern life, so don’t approach the movie looking for that. He’s made a movie about the consequences of modern life for one person, a portrait of contemporary mores as seen from the inside.
We follow this idiosyncratic woman, who laughs when nothing is funny, lacks fear when things are terrifying and gets depressed for little reason, and we become fascinated.