#agatherousselle

Every year, there’s always a film that drops like a bomb in the film festival circuit, becomes the talk of the town before even acquiring a release schedule, and upon finally seeing the light of day in a manner where the masses can see it, lives up to and surpasses the hype.  This year, the film that holds this position far and away is Titane, this year’s Palme D’Or winner at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival.  Be it my friends in the industry, online and YouTube personalities I follow, or other cinephiles like myself, Titane seems to be the it movie of the moment, and the one that everyone wants to mark off of their watchlist.  Normally, I ignore social media advertisements, but when Facebook notified me that Vudu was now carrying Titane, I immediately purchased it and made it priority number one to view it.

There is an immediate connection made present in the opening images of the film connecting Alexia (and later, women in general) to automobiles, and as this connection unfolds and blooms, viewers are forced to take a deep look at the way women are objectified as the norm, leading to an experience that removes autonomy and only allows for extreme reactions.  Women and cars are not the only elements that find themselves paralleled in Titane : intimacy and pain become a core element of the film that makes up Alexia’s dark version of a “hero’s journey”, and this realm opens the door for Alexia’s fascination with missing children becoming the outsource focus for her own missing childhood.  Speaking of missing childhood, the pillars of support in Alexia’s life boil down to two very imposing father figures (although the surrogate figure is daunting in comparison to her actual father), with her actual father creating the raw nerve existence Alexia embodies while her surrogate father’s strange, imposing love serves to eventually temper the outward lashing out that the raw nerve mentality fuels.  Almost all characters in the film suffer from a consistent practice of denial in the face of reality, with the choices made as a result falling on the spectrum of extremity rather than acceptance.

Titane has a presentation that feels completely fresh while also reminding viewers of a Argento-style horror aesthetic, creating a visceral experience that immediately locks in anyone to buy into the madness presented post-opening credits.  Alexia is very interesting as a central character... I would hesitate to call her a protagonist, though she is presented as the character we are supposed to experience the story through, but most of the horror and tension of the film spirals from her absence of impulse control as she tears holes through her reality in the form of a deep body count.  Speaking of a body count, the violence at times gets so spectacular and unreal in its cold application and grand gesturing, so much so that it can be hard to accept as narrative reality initially.  This violence would be shocking enough if it were only directed outward, but some of the most jarring pain we are shown comes in the form of Alexia exacting it upon herself, which becomes a key element in the darkly upsetting connection she finds with her surrogate father figure and captor in the form of Vincent.  The unbilled star of the film is the element of fire, which finds itself taking the form of a mythical presence during some moments, while at other times, it takes the form of a gateway to enlightenment or escape, though mostly within the darker spectrum.

In terms of cinematography (which is one of the film’s strongest aspects), the juxtaposition of uncomfortable framing, expressionistic wide shots and deeply immersive handheld long takes all force us as viewers to have to reflect deeply on the deeply uncomfortable moments while in the midst of experiencing them.  The haunting score puts us on edge as we try and understand the mental state of Alexia during our journey with her.  The visual hue and coloring that the film employs is reminiscent of the Watchmen comic series, particularly in the way that magentas, pinks and oranges are the standout tones in a mostly desaturated world.  Solid soundtrack choices are scattered with great restraint throughout the film, with each song and connected visual sequence adding to the narrative in tangential manners like heavily entertaining subtext.  The presence of large and visually stark locations feels like a tool to remind us of how big the world can seem to people wrapped deeply in their respective traumas, especially once people allow others into their world and the process of personal and peer discovery begins.  If Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon don’t show up on some acting nomination lists, not to mention writer/director Julia Ducournau for the nomination trifecta of writer, director and top film, I will be very surprised.

Agathe Rousselle goes above and beyond in her debut performance, with the range of her physical transformation matching the physicality and deep emotion that pours out of her coiled snake-like performance, with touches of raw vulnerability stepping to the forefront as the film progresses.  Vincent Lindon turns in an equally riveting nomination-worthy performance, channeling a pure denial in the face of post-traumatic sadness that pulls he and Rousselle through paralleled dark journeys, with his rage focused into a shield that allows him to move forward.  Laïs Salameh serves as a voice of reason and even-keeled judgement in the mad world of Titane, remaining open-minded in a sympathetic gesture to his captain until the truth reveals itself, at which point he allows his moral compass to guide him to a tragic ending.  Garance Marillier brings an innocence and purity during the film’s early stages, allowing us an initial gauge to hold Alexia in comparison to before her shocking journey reaches the point of no return.  Bertrand Bonello stands as the tragic (albeit somewhat shaky) source of Alexia’s problems, not to mention the target of a heavily implied illicit relationship in the wake of her accident, which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his abrasive and dismissive behavior.  Myriem Akheddiou uses her brief appearance as a grounding source of validation that the absurd journey Alexia is on is realer than viewers may have initially perceived, with her unconditional love for her husband being the only thing stronger than her unescapable grief in regard to the reality of her missing child.  Appearances by Dominique Frot, Adèle Guigue, Céline Carrère and Thibault Cathalifaud round out the main supporting cast.