August
31
Divorce, Belgian Style
Not exactly excited about the movie choices this Labor Day weekend? There’s ping-pong sports spoof Balls of Fury, a Halloween remake from Rob Zombie and a Death Wish sequel from the director of Saw (Death Sentence is actually better than you might think, by the way).
Never fear: If you live in Los Angeles, you have an alternative. Private Property, the best narrative feature I saw at last year’s Toronto film fest, opens today in Los Angeles. Simply put, this is one of the best films of 2007. I’m only slightly partial, as it stars my favorite actress, Isabelle Huppert, as well as real-life brothers Jeremie and Yannick Renier (the former you’ll recognize as the star of one of my top picks of 2006, L’Enfant).
Huppert plays a middle-aged mother, Pascale, divorced and ready to move on with her life. The Renier sibs play her sons, Thierry and Francois, who seem old enough to be independent but still live under the same roof where they were raised. Pascale wants to sell the house and move in with her lover. Thierry objects. This is the family home. What right does she have to sell it — and by extension, push her own kids out of the nest?
This is the movie I wanted The Squid and the Whale to be. Don’t get me wrong: I admired Noah Baumbach’s portrait of divorce, but it seemed too specific. By contrast, this movie rings true. It understands the aftermath of parental separation, with the kids turning hostile and the mother overwhelmed. The unpleasantries aren’t offset by sitcom-style punchlines or a silly tennis instructor. Private Property feels raw, unornamented.
There’s psychology to spare in Joachim Lafosse’s movie (and little to no stylistic interference in his direction), yet the characters don’t easily reduce to simple explanations. In his own appreciation of the film, Roger Ebert observes:
What draws us into "Private Property" is how so many things happen under the surface, never commented upon. At any given moment, we cannot say for sure what the characters fully feel, since they often act at right angles to their emotions.
You sympathize with the mother, who spends her days picking up after grown men who still behave like boys, but you also understand what the sons are going through. Thierry’s the hothead, and Francois’ the mama’s boy. She’s spoiled them their entire lives, and now, they’re no longer her priority. In a not-quite-Freudian sense, they see themselves as being replaced. This is powerful stuff. Don’t miss it.
—Posted by Peter Debruge
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