To judge from its opening moments, Mobius would appear to be an economic thriller, dense with complex geopolitics and alienating insider jargon. Which would certainly be fine by me, I’m all for a thriller that uses words I don’t understand.
But this is just a smokescreen, and whatever the details, the true intrigue of the film comes from it’s very human core, which is a double edged sword. But we’ll get to that later.
The story involves Alice (Cecile De France), a maverick trader who gets recruited as an undercover agent. This is the simplest version of the story, one that preserves all the twists. And to be sure, there are some twists here. But unlike most movies of this type, you’re not going to remember it for the convolutions of the plot, or at least I’m not recommending it on the basis of that. I’m recommending it because the acting is excellent and the movie is sexy as all get out…
Indeed, after the opening moments, all the talk about markets and CDs falls away, and we get to the true core of the movie, which, like most spy films lacking a Bond or a Bourne, concerns the impossibility of love and romance in a world where deceit is the major currency. Everybody is lying or keeping secrets from everyone else, and the fun comes in the anticipation of waiting for everyone to find out what’s really happening, and what terrible decisions they’re going to make when they do.
And also, from how goshdarn pretty everyone and everything is.
This is a credit to the writer-director Eric Rochant, who infuses a seductive vibe into every inch of the film. Seriously, everything in this movie, from the clubs and mansions, to the offices, to the streets at night, are photographed like the glossiest, most sensual magazine photo spread in the history of mankind. It’s one of those movies that exists in a world you can read about, but probably can’t afford to visit.
Shit, even the teakettles are sexy and decadent here.
You might wonder what kind of sexy actors it takes to out-sexy a teaset, which makes this as good a time as any to introduce our cast….
Our hero Moises (a.k.a. Gregory, which makes sense once you see the movie), played by Jean Dujardin, is introduced lying on a couch with a towel draped over his face (the setup for a pretty amusing punchline moments later). Even faceless and completely still, he is a commanding presence. And over the course of the movie, he befriends and gets to match De France with some performance acrobatics of his own. Fully aware that the moves he is making are inexplicable and borderline suicidal, he can’t help himself, and allows his confusion, desire, and sense of duty to mix in volatile and unpredictable combinations.
So even if it doesn’t track why he gets himself in this exact situation in the first place (it’s handwaved away by his boss who basically says “Sometimes people do stupid shit”; fair enough, I guess), Dujardin is forceful enough that you just wind up going along with it.
But oddly enough, it’s not Dujardin that picqued my interest here, it is in fact his co-star (and the arguable lead of the film, though Dujardin is first-billed), one Cecile De France.
I first became enamored of De France after her rugged, action heroine turn in Haute Tension (and no, we will not be getting into that cluster fuck of an ending) as well as her charismatic, winsome turn in the otherwise fairly garbage-esque Jackie Chan remake of Around The World In 80 Days. In both roles, there was a childlike, slightly guileless charm to her that I found extremely appealing. But I hadn’t seen her in quite some time, and was curious how she’s grown in the decade since.
Apparently, in the ten years since last I saw her, she’s shed the cheeky artlessness to become a fierce and genuinely intriguing screen presence.
In this movie, De France reminded me of no less than my very favorite actress. Like Isabelle Huppert, De France is able to rein in her emotions, drawing you in so that whenever she lets them loose, it’s quietly devastating. Her Alice is, in turn, steely and wholly unintimidated by Rostovsky; icily resolute in her dealing with her Government handlers; and touchingly vulnerable in her quiet moments with Moises. All this in two languages, as well. It’s a very impressive performance, and probably worth seeing the movie for her alone.
Again, this isn’t the kind of spy flick you might be expecting. There is one, and only one fight scene in the entire movie, and it’s basically over before it even begins. It’s a pretty great inversion of the usual badass cliches: Dujardin’s character is described to be something of a badass, and yet throughout the movie there is almost no call for him to put his skills to use. (Not that this is an oversight, mind you: it simply isn’t that type of story…)
Better still is the part these sorts of movies tend to gloss over: what to do with the body of the dude you just killed. In that moment, the movie reminded me of nothing less than the post-shower murder scenes in Psycho, which I’ve always felt no one talks enough about.
All in all, Rochant has a knack for understated yet potent set pieces. Besides the fight, there is an expertly crafted sequence involving a phone call at a very inopportune moment; a mountainside pas de deux between Alice and Rostovsky that drips with understated menace; and the initial meeting between our heroes.
Said meeting jumps high up the list of personal favorite set pieces, a wickedly shot and edited sequence where subtle body gestures and glances across the room take the place of innuendo-filled banter and foreplay. There’s no small amount of directorial skill needed to generate heat between two people that don’t even show up in the same shot for at least five minutes, but Rochant (and his very game cast) are more than up to the task.
More quickly than one might expect, this all leads to a strangely tactile and emotional sex scene that winds up being way hotter than anticipated. Bereft of slow motion writhing and hazy smooth jazz, (and by the way, when did we as a society decide that saxophone was the official musical accompaniment to knocking boots? Because clearly no one consulted me…) the love scenes here are stunningly intimate and focused, suffused with the breathless abandon of two people who have just discovered they fit together perfectly.
A large part of the charm of all this rests on the chemistry of its our heroes, and here is where it gets interesting: according the director, this is intended to be a romance for the ages, and on that score, the movie simply doesn’t track. I didn’t exactly buy that their instant connection was a romantic, longing one; however, I sure as shit bought the idea that they really liked to fuck.
Seriously, this is some of the most intense physical chemistry I’ve seen in a movie in quite some time. Look at the way De France practically vibrates anytime Dujardin touches her, or even comes near her. Even if they’re unable to convince me this is a love for all time, they definitely sell the attraction.
Oh, by the way, there are other people in this movie, too.
For instance, Tim Roth plays the target of everyone’s varying agendas, Ivan Rostovsky, which one would assume gave Roth the opportunity to do one of the things he does best: go to town with the relish that only the most sinister of hams can muster. And yet, as written and played, this is far from the moustache twirling Bond villain it very easily could have been.
Roth plays the role as someone whose almost weary of his reputation, who only comes to life when he’s challenged by something new and unexpected. He’s never particularly overtly menacing; he has a stone cold henchman (played by a highly intimidating Aleksey Gorbunov) to do that for him. But when it comes down to it, he’s more than capable of writing off a human life with a quiet, almost imperceptible head nod. It’s a great, nuanced performance.
Actually, to a man, this piece is extremely well cast. Besides Roth, there is John Lynch, looking like a young and sexy Sam Waterston for reasons I’m not wired to understand; Wendell Pierce owning his five minutes of screentime as a cool (in every sense of the word) CIA Operative; Prasanna Puwanarajah as Alice’s relentlessly stymied bodyguard; and Emilie Dequenne, whom I haven’t seen since I loved her in Brotherhood Of The Wolf in 2001, making a fun return as Alice’s somewhat bumbling Government contact, who is the only one to figure out that Alice and Moises are involved, although possibly too late to save either one of them.
There’s a lot to recommend here. Mobius is a sleek, sexy thriller, and even if you get lost in the machinations of the plot, there’s always the amazing scenery and beautiful, glamorous people to keep you occupied. However, without going too far into spoilers, I do have to make note of the ending, which may not be the resolution you’re hoping for.
As stated earlier, the director envisions this as something of a romance, and in that sense, we get a form of closure, however ambiguous. But to those who are more invested in… other plot points, you may not get what you’re expecting. So bear that in mind if you watch this movie, which I kind of think you should, even if their explanation for the title isn’t as clever as everyone involved seems to think.
SPECIAL FEATURES: Interviews with the actors; several behind-the-scenes featurettes where our director inadvertently betrays some ambivalence towards working with non-French actors who “have their own ideas”, and also there’s a priceless, blink and you’ll miss it moment where Gorbunov, miles away from his scarily intense bad guy character, happily sings and plays the guitar; some trailers; and finally, that Ultraviolet thing I still don’t really get…
