|
The Barbarian
Invasions
Les Invasions Barbares
review by Carrie
Gorringe, 19 September 2003
Toronto International Film Festival
2003
Personal Tragedy
It has been sixteen years since
we last encountered Denys Arcand’s merry band of fin-de-siècle boomer
sybarites in Decline of the
American Empire. As that film ended, history professor Rémy
(Remy Girard) was, thanks to his tireless indulgence in serial
adultery, in the process of ruining his marriage to the sweet but naïve
Louise (Dorothée Berryman). In the sequel, The
Barbarian Invasions (Les
Invasions Barbares), time is running out for both Rémy and
the sense of invincibility that North Americans had enjoyed for over
fifty years. In Rémy’s case, the agony of a terminal illness is
compounded by the decrepit excuse for a health-care system that
exists in Quebec. Distressed over his degraded condition, Rémy’s
always solicitous ex-wife calls their son, Sébastien (Stephane
Rousseau), and begs him to return from his privileged life in France
and use some of his trading skills to help his father. Once home, Sébastien,
appalled by the situation, proceeds to prove that lots of money,
spread liberally among the right administrators and union members,
cuts through even the most recalcitrant of red tape. After being
appraised of the hopelessness of his father’s condition, Sébastien
inquires about the effectiveness of pain killers. The best solution,
according to a doctor, is heroin. After some searching, he enlists a
daughter of one of his father’s old "friends", Nathalie
(Marie-Josée Croze) to procure a little extra from her supplier on
a regular basis. Soon, Rémy’s situation improves to the point
where Sebastien decides that a final meeting of the old gang,
including Pierre (Pierre Curzi), Claude (Yves Jacques) and Dominique
(Dominique Michel) is in order, so that they can see Rémy through
to the end.
While Rémy is enacting his own
personal tragedy, the events of September 11, 2001 unfold,
destroying forever Americans’ belief in their personal safety.
Like Ancient Rome before it, America suffers the brutal consequences
of having the barbarians breach their gates. Unlike in Ancient Rome,
the question left unanswered, is whether or not the initial breach
will turn into a full-fledged rout of Western Civilization.
As usual, the satirist Arcand has
his pick of targets which he savages with aplomb. The constant,
agonizingly long tracking shots of hospital hallways crammed with
sick people signifies the severe crisis in Quebec health care (and
the images look chillingly similar to photographs published a few
years ago in McLean’s
magazine). Left-leaning historians are also ripe for the puncturing;
in a flashback, Rémy is seen extolling the virtues of the Chinese
Cultural Revolution to a colleague who suffered under its excesses.
But while corrupt bureaucrats and ideologically-blinkered
intellectuals are always relevant and easy targets, Arcand spares no
one in pursuing his real intent: the exploration of the end of life
itself. Even Rémy, who all of his life pursued hedonism with an
almost sociopathic obsession, must confront not only the inevitable
failure of the body that became the center of his real
"work" -- the pursuit of pleasure -- but he must also
confront the damage, in both his professional and personal lives,
from having chosen to live that way. It is the ultimate in cruel
ironies that Rémy -- who fancied himself a man of the mind -- is
now forced to rely solely upon his mind to relive his past as his
body deteriorates. It begs the question of whether or not Rémy
could ever have been a real intellectual, or someone who simply used
his intellect just enough to collect the aphorisms that justified
his behavior. It is the question that Rémy is forced to confront
when things come to a head at Pierre’s lakeside cottage, the place
where it all began. As the friends gather to help Rémy through his
final days, Arcand makes you aware that they, too, have been forced
to confront their own lack of immortality and that, like Rémy, they
have been playing at real life. When the friends part this time,
they will be one fewer, but will they be wiser for the experience?
They all seem more inert than enlightened. Only Louise appears best
able to cope with what’s coming, but even she is incapable of
action.
It is the young people, Sébastien
and Nathalie, who, in the face of what paralyzes their elders, act
without hesitation to manage the impending situation in the most
dignified manner possible, and they are the ones best able to
confront the aftermath. Sébastien is able to forgive his father,
and accept him for what he was. Nathalie, newly reunited with her
mother, makes another attempt to improve her life. They, of course,
have the advantage of time on their side, which makes the ability to
change seem more possible, and what came before to seem like less of
a waste. When the trappings of life fall away, as they do under the
force of impending death, Arcand suggests that only friendships
remain. Those, and a really good supplemental health-insurance plan,
might be enough to make the end more palatable.
The performances in Invasion
of the Barbarians are first-rate. We know the actors and their
characters well-enough to love these old reprobates like a pair of
well-worn slippers. But it is Croze who steals much of the
attention. Her interpretation of Nathalie as a woman on the edge who
is still nursing the hurt child inside, but who can still pull
everything together when it is necessary is as much a part of the
emotional center of the film as Remy himself. Nathalie becomes his
nurse, and, at one point, his betrayer, but, inevitably, in coming
to know and love Rémy, she sees the need to change her life. His
death gives her -- and Sébastien -- strength. The second generation
is in good hands.
Reviews:
Interviews:
Toronto International Film Festival Coverage:
|
|
Written and
Directed
by:
Denys Arcand
Starring:
Remy Girard
Stephane Rousseau
Dorothee Berryman
Marie-Josee Croze
Rated:
R - Restricted.
Under 17 requires
parent or adult
guardian.
FULL CREDITS
BUY
VIDEO
RENT
DVD
BUY
MOVIE POSTER |
|
