A rather calm day at the Festival with Nicole Garcia’s latest film and a road movie by an English director shot in the USA. We much preferred the smoothness of American honey to the heaviness of the French stones.
From the Land of the Moon (Mal de pierres), Nicole Garcia, France
Gabrielle, the daughter of wealthy farmers, is practically forced into marriage with a worker on the estate, who is given the delicate mission of calming the hysteria of the lady searching, without much regard for propriety, for “the most important thing in life,” namely love. She is sent to a spa to treat her kidneys (the infamous stones) where she meets a handsome lieutenant.
Saying that the third French film in the selection doesn’t match the level of the previous two is putting it mildly. From the Land of the Moon—perhaps to illustrate its title—is a rather cumbersome film. The weak script is artificial and the acting questionable. One can imagine that the role of the heroine ravaged by passion was written for Marion Cotillard to give her yet another opportunity to perform a dramatic act. Her rather caricatured performance once again demonstrates that actors should serve the roles, not the other way around. The same goes for Louis Garrel and his repeatedly performed act of the brooding handsome man. Only the Spanish actor Alex Brendemühl (the husband) manages to stand out.
American Honey, Andrea Arnold, UK-USA
Star, a teenager, leaves her dysfunctional family to follow a group of young people traveling across the Mid-West in a van selling magazine subscriptions. She falls in love with one of the group’s leaders, Jake.
An initiatory road movie for young Star (remarkable Sasha Lane, who was highly applauded at the end of the screening), the adventure turns out to be much more perilous due to Jake’s ambiguous personality and the near-dictatorship imposed by the leader of the small group, Krystal. But fortunately, Star finds her own path to freedom (a stunning final scene). It’s a likable film, albeit a bit lengthy (2 hours 42 minutes), despite a rousing soundtrack. It would have been more suited to Sundance than Cannes.
by Patrick Mottard
