Maldoror (Fabrice du Welz, 2024)

Despite his Belgian nationality, Fabrice du Welz has often been linked with the New French Extremity, as has that fine performer Laurent Lucas, whose extensive work in the movement includes Leos Carax's Pola X, Julia Ducournau's Raw, Marina de Van's In My Skin, and a trio of films for Bertrand Bonello.  Maldoror sees du Welz once again reunite with Lucas, who previously starred in the director's films Calvaire, Adoration and Alleluia.  As with du Welz's feature debut Calvaire, Maldoror pits Lucas against a quite diabolical character played by Jackie Berroyer, an actor who has never been more sinister than in his work for du Welz, which also includes a turn in Inexorable (pictured below), whose female leads Alba Gaïa Bellugi—sister of Galatéa— and Mélanie Doutey both have roles in Maldoror.

While Du Welz's longstanding fascination with the macabre is present in the riveting Maldoror, what is conspicuous by its absence is the streak of jet-black humour normally associated with his work; given that the film focuses on the case of Marc Dutroux, Belgium's most notorious child killer, this seems wholly appropriate.  Many consider the string of abduction murders carried out by Dutroux to be the worst crimes in Belgian history—indeed, the impact of the case was so profound that one-third of Belgians with the surname Dutroux sought to change their last name.  Prior to the Dutroux affair, the Charleroi suburb of Marcinelle was best known for a 1950s mining accident that killed 262 people; that this disaster has now been eclipsed says much about these brutal murders' terrible legacy.

As such, du Welz needed to take a most cautious approach when preparing his film, which features some fabricated elements in order to provide a sense of justice that many Belgians felt was lacking from the real-life case (the director has cited Tarantino's Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood as a key influence in this regard).  The names of the characters have been fictionalised, with Sergi López's skin-crawling Marcel Dedieu serving as a proxy for Dutroux as Anthony Bajon's young police officer Paul Chartier becomes obsessed with linking the suspect to the disappearance of two young girls.  The impulsive Chartier is largely hamstrung by both his jobsworth boss Hinkel (Lucas) and a system in which, à la David Fincher's Zodiac, three separate police services are rarely on the same page.

Maldoror is a police procedural that has much else in common with Fincher's touchstone of the subgenre: each film runs to over two and a half hours and features a protagonist whose monomaniacal devotion to cracking a serial killer case results in the loss of their job and family.  In choosing to focus on the investigation as opposed to the crimes, du Welz handles the material in a subtle, tactful manner—yet Maldoror remains a queasy spectacle, one that will prove too strong for some.  It is now almost 30 years since Dutroux was apprehended—he was caught in 1996, the same year the death penalty was abolished in Belgium—but this dreadful episode remains a highly sensitive matter for many of Fabrice du Welz's compatriots, as does the topic of his next film: the rubber trade in the Belgian Congo.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

FVTL 2023: Burning Hearts / Monica / Amanda

Following on from yesterday's look at From Venice to London titles Chiara and The Matchmaker, today we conclude our coverage of this impressive festival edit by considering the remainder of its selections: Pippo Mezzapesa's Burning Hearts, Andrea Pallaoro's Monica, and Carolina Cavalli's Amanda.  While From Venice to London—which runs from tomorrow until Monday—can only accommodate a limited number of titles, the 2023 lineup presents five very different films, which is testament to the skills of those responsible for programming the festival.  In showcasing a selection of offerings from the Venice Film Festival, FVTL serves to highlight its parent event at a point when La Biennale is still a good seven months away; in this respect, it's much like the interim weekend of screenings laid on by International Film Festival Rotterdam last October.  Tickets for all From Venice to London screenings can be booked by clicking here.  

Italian crime drama Burning Hearts has gained a fair bit of attention in recent months, not least for its casting of pop star Elodie as the female lead.  With an original title of Ti mangio il cuore, which literally translates as "I'll eat your heart", director Pippo Mezzapesa's film has found a considerably less fierce name for its release in Anglophone territories.  This inventive riff on Romeo and Juliet is informed by real events, and Elodie is good value as a woman who becomes romantically involved with a member of a rival crime family; naturally, much feuding and bloodshed ensues.  While Mezzapesa's film is for the most part a serious affair, there is the odd splash of humour: witness the particularly memorable scene in which a brutal gang slaying is soundtracked by noughties Eurodisco smash "Dragostea Din Tei".  Captured in stunning black and white by cinematographer Michele D'Attanasio, Burning Hearts is stylish without being overwrought, and it manages to make its somewhat overfamiliar subject matter both compelling and fresh; moreover, Elodie's fine performance dispels any talk of stunt casting.   

Fans of Andrea Pallaoro's Charlotte Rampling vehicle Hannah—for which the actress netted the Volpi Cup at Venice back in 2017—will surely want to be in the queue for his latest effort, the mature and moving Monica, which stars the always-watchable Patricia Clarkson.  Monica is the second film in Pallaoro's thematic trilogy centring on women, of which Hannah was the first instalment.  As with Charlotte Wells' Aftersun, Monica is a film in which the gap between parent and child looms large, as its title character returns home after a long absence to visit her dying, estranged mother.  For more than one reason, the mother—played by Clarkson—fails to recognise her child, but Monica nevertheless sticks around to help, in the process reconnecting with her brother and forming a bond with his young family.  By an extraordinary coincidence, Pallaoro's film also uses "Dragostea Din Tei" to soundtrack a key scene, and it isn't the only well-chosen song to be featured here, with classic tracks from New Order and OMD also used to fine effect.  Boxing its characters into a 1:1 aspect ratio, Monica proceeds at a deliberate pace as Pallaoro consistently veers away from spelling things out for his audience, preferring instead to focus on what is left unsaid.  

Carolina Cavalli's endearingly quirky debut feature Amanda, like the title character in Susanna Nicchiarelli's medieval tale Chiara, is bound to attract more than a few devoted followers; coincidentally, Amanda's star, Benedetta Porcaroli, shot to fame playing a character called Chiara in Netflix series Baby.  Porcaroli's Amanda, just like her Chiara, is an entitled young woman from a wealthy family, yet despite her privileged background she drifts along as a lonely, disaffected twentysomething.  Amanda's main goals are to rekindle a particular childhood friendship (that may or may not have existed) and accrue sufficient supermarket reward points to claim an electric fan; she also frequents the cinema, and opts to live in a dingy hotel room that is a far cry from her palatial family home.  While the film is consistently amusing, it never loses sight of the poignancy at its core as Amanda searches for her place in what she views as a hostile, confusing world.  Porcaroli gives a terrific performance, and she's matched all the way by the superb Galatéa Bellugi, who stood out in 2021's starry divertissement Tralala.  Cavalli's bittersweet film is a fine choice to close this year's From Venice to London, and it announces its writer-director as a real talent.      

Darren Arnold

Images: 01 Distribution / I Wonder Pictures

Tralala (Jean-Marie Larrieu / Arnaud Larrieu, 2021)

Tralala marks the fifth collaboration between Mathieu Amalric and the Larrieu brothers, and it is now almost twenty years since their first film together, the medium-length A Real Man.  Amalric is one of several performers favoured by the Larrieus, with the likes of Karin Viard, Sergi Lopez and Maïwenn all making multiple appearances for the brothers, although it is only the last of this trio who appears alongside Amalric in Tralala .  The most recent Larrieus film to feature Amalric (or Maïwenn, for that matter) was 2013's Love is the Perfect Crime, which may just be the brothers' best work.  Between that film and Tralala, the duo directed 21 Nights with Pattie, a tonally uncertain yet largely enjoyable work that featured a strong leading performance by the excellent Isabelle Carré, an actress who, despite appearing to be a good fit for the Larrieus' sensibilities, has yet to make another film with the brothers. 

In addition to his glittering career as an actor and his status as the go-to guy for both Arnaud Desplechin and the Larrieus, Mathieu Amalric has carved out a formidable reputation on the other side of the camera—his most recent directorial effort, Hold Me Tight, can be currently seen alongside Tralala at the International Film Festival Rotterdam (Amalric also participated in one of the festival's Big Talks).  As the title character in Tralala, Amalric gives the sort of performance familiar to his devotees, with the raffish charm he exudes going a long way towards carrying a story that is sometimes rather thin, yet never anything less than entertaining.  Amalric is backed by a fine supporting cast: in addition to the aforementioned Maïwenn, Tralala features enjoyable turns from Josiane Balasko, Denis Lavant, Jalil Lespert and Galatéa Bellugi; although a relative unknown among the starry, experienced cast, Bellugi manages to quietly steal almost every scene she's in.      

Amalric's Tralala is a penniless busker who lives in a tiny city apartment that has no basic amenities; what's worse, the building stands on the brink of demolition, and Tralala needs to have a serious think about his options, such as they are.  After a day of busking in the city centre, Tralala encounters an attractive young woman (Bellugi), and the two go for a drink at a bar; the woman goes to pay the tab but doesn't come back, and the waiter returns to hand Tralala the not inconsiderable change.  Greatly intrigued by this mysterious stranger, Tralala has few clues about who she is, although a lighter she's left behind seems to be a souvenir from Lourdes.  Tralala uses the money he's just acquired to make his way to the city of miracles, where he attempts to track down the young woman; after a fruitless, exhausting first day in which he loses his guitar (thanks to Lavant's aggressive fellow busker, who doesn't take kindly to others working his patch), Tralala finds refuge in a flophouse owned by Lili (Balasko), who mistakes Tralala for Pat, her musician son who left Lourdes many years ago and hasn't been heard from since.    

As a man with little to lose, Tralala decides to go along with this, and from this point on he steps into Pat's shoes.  While Lili is adamant that this is her son, others are less than convinced, and in this sense the film recalls the basic conceit of the otherwise completely different Titane.  Still, Tralala does his best to make a go of it as an ersatz Pat, although this means negotiating tricky encounters with his subject's old flames Jeannie (Mélanie Thierry) and Barbara (Maïwenn), the latter of whom has a very close connection to the person who lured Tralala to Lourdes.  As the enquiries made by Tralala regarding the young woman have largely been met with hostility, this only serves to deepen the mystery surrounding this ethereal character, the memory of whom continues to haunt Tralala even as he's busy juggling the various components of his complex new identity.  Amalric, that most dependable of screen presences, always does enough to keep the sheer preposterousness of the scenario at bay, even if this diverting confection does not represent the Larrieu brothers at their very best.  But as with its title character, Tralala nonetheless possesses a ramshackle charm.     

Darren Arnold

Images: Pyramide Films