Dans l'Obscurite

Last month my friend Doug sent me a link to the above video, the contribution from the Dardenne brothers to an anthology of shorts, TO EACH HIS OWN CINEMA, devoted to celebrating the Cannes Film Festival and the idea of film as a collectively-experienced human endeavor. The latter concern is particularly timely. It's not at all hard to find people who will tell you that they love to watch movies and that they watch them constantly but that they loathe theaters for the same reasons that people dislike public toilets. The masses are noisy and inconsiderate and things are just cleaner and better at home at my theater of one or two. As we become more and more attached to lives with fewer and fewer human contacts, we feel at ease in the self-controlled environment of home theaters and pause-able DVD. Home video windows continue to get smaller and there are fewer compelling reasons to go to the movies, the thinking goes. But what if one of the distinguishing characteristics of film as an artform-- one of the things that makes film film-- is its ability to wrap itself around a group of people simultaneously and draw their subjectivities in together? Of course, you don't need to spend much time telling the people who go to festivals that there is still profound, irreplaceable value in seeing films with groups of strangers. DANS L'OBSCURITE approaches the question from even higher ground and posits that there is an actual moral benefit to the theater.

Doug's got a great formal analysis of the short at his website. The short features two actors with connections to past Dardenne films. Jeremie Segard plays another dark blonde-haired young man who needs to be rescued from wayward living, while Emilie Dequenne plays the woman he tries to rob. The casting is a thank-you note to Cannes, as Segard played a pivotal role in L'ENFANT, which won the Palme d'Or in 2005, and Dequenne conquered the known universe as ROSETTA, which took the top prize in 1999. And after having their names associated so often with Robert Bresson (while essentially remaking MOUCHETTE and PICKPOCKET), it feels like a reunion of sorts, or like cutting out the middleman, to have the short take place against the backdrop and under the weighty influence of AU HASARD BALTHAZAR. Apart from those connections, what's most fascinating to me is how this three-minute film manages to perfectly distill the Dardennes' aesthetic. It contains every element that makes the features so powerful-- the unknown or unspoken motivations of the characters, the conflict, the moment of encounter, and the quick cut away after the moment of encounter, as the Dardennes don't presume to tell us how the work of redemption is brought to completion, if it ever is. The touch is light and the emotions are genuine. For the longtime fan, it's a chorus or reprise of the themes they've been tracing throughout. For the uninitiated, it's a perfect three-minute introduction to their form.

There are two ways I can think of to read the young woman's actions; either she knows full well what the boy was in the midst of doing and is moved by the film to immediately forgive him and seek to redeem his actions, or she is "merely" so moved by Bresson's film that she is in need of some human touch and she grasps the first hand that comes to her, oblivious to his intent. It's difficult to overstate just how audacious the first reading is, and I prefer it thoroughly to the other. This sort of forgiveness and indifference to one's own self-preservation is so implausible that it's generally the sort of thing seen only in advertisements. But the Dardennes are way too earnest to pull something like that. Instead we're faced with the challenge that a movie--that the right movie--has the power to confront us with enough beauty and compassion that we would be inspired to forgive and embrace a person seeking to rob us.