the people are a fantasy
by Douglas Messerli
Jean-Louis Milesi and Robert Guédiguian (screenplay), Robert Guédiguian (director) La
Ville est tranquille (The Town Is
Quiet) / 2000
The Marseille director Robert
Guédiguian presents in a 360° pan at the beginning of this film, showing a city
awash in a golden splendor of light, which does indeed appear to be quiet and
calm. The music we hear, Debussy, Bach, and works by other such composers, is
being played, we soon discover, by a young Georgian boy on an electric keyboard
set up in a park; a sign asks listeners to contribute to his purchase of a real
piano.
Union organizers are attempting to stand firm against dockyard closures
and a payout agreement with the company, but the men shouting out their
determination seem tired and look uncertain about their demands. One, a
character we will later follow, Paul (Jean-Pierre Darroussin), cannot even
bring himself to join in their chants.
On a clear night, a group of city elites celebrate on a rooftop terrace,
the host (perhaps a politician) going about his guests to briefly speak with
each. One of the most stunning women in the group is Viviane Froment (Christine
Brücher) whom we later discover is a music teacher currently working with
mentally disabled children. Her husband, Yves (Jacques Pieiller), an architect,
spends his time chatting and flirting with beautiful women.
So far we see nothing in Marseille that we might not encounter in any
large city: Los Angeles, New York, London, Paris. The city is tranquil, or, as
an African character later puts it, "The world looks happy from up
here."
For all that, Michèle is filled with determination and the will to
survive, and she is the most loving and forgiving character of the film, so
desperate to help her daughter, for example, that, after Fiona has used the
doctor-prescripted antidote to get high, the mother contacts an old friend, a
bartender Gérard to help her obtain real drugs. When her savings runs out, she
is determined even to pimp herself in order to cover the cost.
Into this world comes Paul who has used his redundancy money to get a
loan to purchase a new car and a cab license. Paul, the son of a former
Partisan father and loving mother, also does not live such a tranquil life. A
failure in everything, he represents the millions of individuals who work hard,
but seem never to get ahead, cannot maintain relationships, and fall time and
again throughout their lives. Claude, the man from who he has borrowed money,
puts it bluntly: (my summary, imprecise quote) "You will never pay me back
and I will have to do something terrible to you. But I won't be able to because
of my respect for your father." A man who seeks love from prostitutes,
Paul observes Michèle's dismal failure to find clients, and takes her home
without demanding sex. When soon after he loses his cab license for violation
of taxi regulations, he returns to Michèle, this time paying her for sex. It is
clear that he would like their relationship to go further, but she is too
preoccupied to notice his obsequiousness.
Meanwhile, across town a young African, Abderramane (Alexandre Ogou),
recently released from jail, observes Viviane teaching her students in an
auditorium. He has sought her out because of the memorable experiences he had
as a member of a choir she taught in prison, and he is determined to do
something better with his life. Like Michèle, Viviane is fed up with her
husband, and finds a gracefulness in Abderramane's flattery. Before long, he is
helping her students to dance, and the two briefly come together for a one
night of love. Soon after Abderramane is shot by fascists, who include
Michèle's husband, for attempting to swim in the nearby ocean.
Michèle's life continues to spin downward, as her daughter needs higher
and higher doses of crack cocaine. She is so exhausted, that she misses her
work shift for the first time. Fiona continues to cry out in pain.
Gérard, we discover, is an assassin, who we watch kill a city notable
celebrating on a rooftop party just as we have witnessed early on.
Michèle fires up another dose of drugs for her daughter, this time
adding a second packet and yet a third. Smiling in the bliss of relief, Fiona
awaits the needle which will result in her death.
Gérard arrives, responding to Michèle's news a few minutes before Paul
arrives for another sexual encounter. Despite the fact that he knows he is
intruding on some dreadful happening, this time Paul insists he will not go,
but stay. What happens, we are never told. But it is clear that they can no
longer help one another, that they are both doomed to face the circumstances of
their acts.
In a small street of the immigrant ghetto, a piano is being delivered.
Left for a few seconds in the middle of the street, the young Georgian boy with
which the film began, sits down to play.
Guédiguian's harrowing film is often described as a painfully realist
presentation of Marseille, but in its intricacies of plot and its density of
coincidence, it is, to my way of thinking, more like a kind of fantasy. Even
the most well-rounded character in the work, Michèle, is almost too selfless to
be believed; the others are all rather vague, their actions often muddled.
Yet for all that, the film works as a piece of art, for we realize that
any attempt to describe the motivations and behavior of real people is a kind
of fantasy as well. Just as Viviane, earlier in the film, suggests her
husband's self-proclaimed love of the people belies his complete ignorance of
them— "For you the people are a fantasy"—we all can only imagine what
is inside each other. The impetus of Guédiguian's film is not realist
characterization but a political statement, a presentation, of sorts, of the
various social and political positions one might take within any large
community. Far from being quiet, life in a city is always noisy, a mess of
various voices and demands, which is also why city life is so terrifyingly
exciting, creating a place where one never knows what to expect. The town is
quiet only when one refuses to listen to its people calling out.
Los Angeles, March 16, 2011
Reprinted from International Cinema Review (March 2011).
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