Violette hit DVD on 10/14 from Kino Lorber and Adopt Films
The film Violette presents an interesting prospect: the French equivalent of an American biopic. But because they’re just so damned Gallic about everything, this is not the story of an athlete, a musician, or a white person who selflessly helped some minorities. Which are, of course, the only people who live lives worthy of cinematic chronicling in these here United States…
Whereas in France, it’s perfectly acceptable to devote a nearly 2 1/2 hour movie to the life of a moderately successful writer.
Violette is the story of Violette Leduc, a desperately needy soul whose anguish and loneliness and self-loathing pours out into a series of powerful memoirs. And how despite the fact that some of the biggest names in the French literary industry fall all over themselves to court her talents and support her efforts, she’s never able to see herself as anything other than an ugly, unloved, unwanted nobody.
Putting her feelings on paper does nothing to exorcise Violette’s demons. Hell, if anything it makes her even more miserable than she was before. Really, it’s not clear that she even likes writing in the first place. She seems to start doing it out of spite, and derives no joy from the process; no meaning. And no matter what her peers say (and nearly everybody who reads her work lavishes praise on her talents and her voice), all she talks about is how little her books are selling, how she’s still broke and how nobody loves her.
Which, of course, is the ultimate tragedy of Violette Leduc: it’s never enough.
That such a whiny, endlessly self-pitying character is at all tolerable is due entirely to the efforts of Emmanuelle Devos, without question one of the best actresses working today. One of the great shapeshifters of modern movies, Devos imbues Leduc with so much wounded humanity that you understand her desperation and need and can admire her relentless drive and hustle, even as you recoil at her clumsy attempts to seduce everyone around her and her seemingly constant crying jags.
I’m saying it right now: best performance of the year.
The other key player in the film is Sandrine Kiberlaine as Simone de Bouvier, an author who becomes Violette’s mentor and unrequited object of desire. de Bouvier pushes her to be as honest as possible in telling her story, and in one moment, more or less concedes that Leduc is the superior writer. Their relationship is as complicated as it is one-sided, and Kiberlaine is impressively steely, fending off Leducs’ sad advances while trying to drive her to recognize her talents.
Everyone else kind of hovers around the margins, especially the men. Which, given the themes at play, is as it should be. Olivier Py makes the most of his short time as Maurice Sachs, another writer, and a bit of a scumbag. Engaged in a marriage of convenience with Violette (he’s gay in a time and place when that wasn’t such a good idea), he’s the type of dude that tells her to write for herself, rips her book apart when she finally does, and then begs her to read his manuscript, hovering over her the entire time.
And then he abandons her.
The fact that Violette continually tries to get this guy to sleep with her pretty much tells you where her head is at when the movie starts…
Other names pop us as well, such as Jean Genet, Louis Jouvet, and Jacques Guerin, all of whom are basically treated like celebrity cameos. It’s the type of movie where Sartre’s name is invoked with the same sort of hushed reverence that one might use when talking about the time that Bill Murray photobombed their bachelor party. And… well, how can you not love that?
But in the end, what it all comes down to is a matter of feminism. Simone de Bouvier is working on her book ‘The Second Sex’, a series of essays on women’s issues. Violette is essentially a case study in these issues, from her shifting sexuality to her self-image to the abortion she had when she was younger (and the casual way she describes it to de Bouvier compared to her reaction when the matter is obliquely referenced in a film she makes with Jouvet is one of the most interesting moments in the entire film).
And her story being published is a victory for de Beauvier and her cause, but it’s a symbolic one. Leduc’s story makes her a symbol for every woman who is being oppressed and undervalued. And you can’t love a symbol, which is a shame since that’s the only thing that Violette Leduc has ever wanted.
So how the movie concludes her story becomes way more interesting than it might otherwise come off. Leduc finally finds contentment, but in a way that, it could be argued, betrays many of the ideals de Beauvier is working towards. That this is treated as something of a happy ending is both somewhat disorienting and part and parcel to it taking on the style of the American biopic, with all the compromises that imples.
The complexities and contradictions of Violette make for occasionally challenging viewing, but ultimately rewarding, and never less than riveting thanks to the efforts of Emmanuelle Devos.
And if you’re as into casually name dropping French writers as I am, then it’s an absolute must-see.
SPECIAL FEATURES: None whatsoever; not even chapter selection…