Raphael Duhamel wraps up the 44th Deauville American Film Festival. 

THE STAND-OUTS

Thunder Road (2018), dir. Jim Cummings

The winner of the 2018 Deauville Grand Prize unequivocally deserves it and much more. Jim Cummings’ first full-length film is an exciting and electrifying creation, pulsating with life, in the image of its guilt-ridden protagonist, Jim Arnaud. Taking its name from the legendary Bruce Springsteen song, the movie strings together multiple tragicomic sequences displaying a ridiculed yet touching man, whose struggles never seem to end. Not only does Cummings give an award-worthy performance as a broken police officer, but his direction is tight and slick, stylised and genuine at the same time. Filmmaker Magazine put him on the list of the best new faces of independent cinema back in 2012, and with Thunder Road he shows no signs of slowing down.

We the Animals (2018), dir. Jeremiah Zagar

This ethereal coming-of-age tale is the epitome of a Sundance movie, with first-time narrative feature director Jeremiah Zagar putting together all of the necessary elements for an indie gem: non-professional child actors, a grainy pastel aesthetic, handheld shots, and social issues with a touch of poetry. It follows three young brothers who strive to survive in spite of their unstable family context, with an absent father and a lethargic mother, focusing especially on the youngest child, Jonah (Evan Rosado), who combats his toxically masculine environment by drawing in a notebook where he buries his darkest secrets. We the Animals is a joy to watch and a truly stunning debut for Zagar and his actors, yet it fails like many others have done before by naively resting on its laurels and relying too heavily on visual prowess to advance its story. The result is a sincere and charming piece of cinema, which lacks in vigour but compensates through its Malickian sensibility.

 

THE AVERAGE

The Tale (2018), dir. Jennifer Fox

Jennifer Fox’s dramatic retelling of her own sexual abuse experience marks the beginning of a new era for female filmmakers in the wake of the #MeToo movement, and the liberation of speech it entails. The movie excels in its nuanced representation of past and present perceptions of assault, going back and forth between present-day Jennifer (Laura Dern) and teenage Jenny (Isabelle Nélisse), accurately depicting the dangerously contrasting outlooks on consent in the 1970s and the 21^st century. The Tale’s intensity and veracity contributes much to its emotional power, but its therapeutic quality for the director is ultimately detrimental to its purely cinematic integrity. Many sequences – predominantly ones showing intercourse – seem gratuitous, due to the inevitable lack of distance between Fox’s real-life experiences and their re-enactings onscreen. It remains, nonetheless, an important symbol for the post-Weinstein industry and especially women in film.

The Kindergarten Teacher (2018), dir. Sara Colangelo

The 2018 winner of Sundance’s Directing Award has the admirable courage to tell an uneasy story of psychotic obsession between a teacher and her 5-year-old pupil. Maggie Gyllenhaal steals the show in her best role since 2014’s Frank, portraying with great subtlety this tragically talentless woman who lives vicariously through her student’s genius, but the feature itself does not live up to the actress’ performance. The Kindergarten Teacher does everything to defy conventions by leaving much to imagination, an original approach which results in an underwhelming experience, leaving the audience wanting more, especially from the child, whose part is criminally underplayed. Sara Colangelo’s film wastes its initial boldness by not fulfilling its potential, but it is still an unusual reworking of an age-old story. 

 

THE MISFIRES

Only the Brave (2017), dir. Joseph Kosinski

Joseph Kosinski’s latest movie about a group of heroic firefighters in Arizona is a puzzling combination of excellence and mediocrity. The talented Top Gun: Maverick director joins forces with a star-studded cast composed of Josh Brolin, Miles Teller, Jennifer Connelly, and a beardless Jeff Bridges, for a film whose screenplay did not deserve to be brought to life in such a flamboyant way. It is by no means terrible, but the redemption narrative which constitutes Only the Brave’s plot is appallingly conventional and tedious, and is of no interest apart from its “true story” aspect. The world might remember these firefighters for their fearless sacrifice, but certainly not for its fictionalised adaptation.

Operation Finale (2018), dir. Chris Weitz

Oscar Isaac cultivates his image of the new Hollywood sweetheart by starring as Mossad secret agent Peter Malkin, who participated in the capture of the Final Solution’s infamous architect, Adolf Eichmann (Sir Ben Kingsley). Once again, the film’s main asset is its grounding in historical truth, since it relies on an essentially bland and unoriginal script, which so predictably places Isaac’s flawed hero character at the centre of the stage. The majority of Operation Finale occurs in an Argentinian safehouse, as a group of secret agents, also consisting of Mélanie Laurent – who obviously takes on the role of Malkin’s love interest – need Eichmann’s signature for them to leave Buenos Aires by plane. In this way, it bears many similarities with Argo’s structure and storyline, but unfortunately none of its inventiveness and talent.

Deauville Film Festival ran from August 31st to September 9th at Deauville, France. It was established in 1975 to showcase the diversity of American cinema from major Hollywood productions to independent films. 

Check out their website here. 

Raphael Duhamel attends the 44th Deauville American Film Festival and reviews Jim Cummings’ remake of his 2016 short. 

Jim Cummings’ excellent remake of his own award-winning short film, Thunder Road, surprises by its innovative form and seamless transitions between comedy and drama from the start. The opening scene is by itself a tour de force, shot in only one take. While most long shots impress by their skilful camera movement and effects, the movie’s first ten minutes are excruciatingly awkward, featuring the main character’s clumsy eulogy to his mother that culminates in a silent dance routine.

During this lengthy sequence, Jim Arnaud (Jim Cummings) asks an off-screen woman many times if he should persevere and keep talking, to which she responds that he is “doing great”. As the camera pulls in on the protagonist during his speech, ultimately focusing only on him, the audience is drawn to identify with the funeral’s attendants, who are going through the same painful ordeal as them. From this initial chapter on, Thunder Road presents itself as an exercise of empathy for the spectator, who is invited to witness the embarrassing developments in Arnaud’s life, for better or mostly for worse.

The protagonist is best described as a quasi-autistic and unstable police officer. He is mostly well-intentioned, but his fiery temper and objectively bad luck get in his way in the most tragicomic manner, as if his entire existence was set to the theme of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Taking on the role of the anti-hero, he fights for the custody of his daughter Crystal (played by the impressive Kendal Farr) against his ex-wife (Jocelyn DeBoer), with the notable help of his friend and colleague Nate (Nican Robinson). Arnaud’s character is a paradoxical one, fuelled by a highly-developed sense of pride and shame. As a troubled and dyslexic individual, fighting against his bipolar tendencies and everyone against him at the same time, it seems ironically appropriate for his duty to be protecting and serving the people of Austin, Texas. His profession provides him with much-needed authority and highlights his need for a righteous and Christian life, while consequently emphasising his inability to lead such an existence. Simultaneously, it acts as a critique of the police forces’ supposed exemplarity in the United States, especially in the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement. Arnaud’s occupation is equally crucial in his search for redemption in the eyes of his dead mother, whom he neglected towards the end of her life. He attempts to compensate this late absence by being particularly attentive to his daughter, protecting her from the “slackers” threatening her good education.

Jim Cummings also orchestrates Arnaud’s demise behind the camera, with an almost mockumentary style to his direction. Most shots are inspired and well-composed, and the cinematography makes abundant use of natural lighting, which contributes to Thunder Road’s authentic tone and small-budget feel. No character ever faces the camera directly, but the situations depicted in the film only seem to be variations of what one might see in television shows such as The Office or Modern Family. However, Cummings’ humour is never heavy-handed nor slapstick, because it is always followed by a sense of dread which renders the entire comedic effect more distressing than amusing.

One notable example occurs during a poignant scene in which his daughter’s teacher, played by Jeremy Saulnier favourite Macon Blair, explains that Crystal is a disturbance in class. In a fit of rage, Arnaud blames his daughter’s behaviour on his ex-wife, picks up a desk and threatens to throw it against a wall, until Blair’s character points out that the desk is Crystal’s. The protagonist instantly calms down and sits back, while the camera shows the teacher discreetly hiding a pair of scissors in his pocket, in case of another outburst. Another film might have cut shortly after, but the scene continues for a minute or so after this event, letting the tragedy in Arnaud’s story insidiously return and outweigh the comedy. What may have acted as comic relief for the audience conversely translates into a reminder of the grim reality which constitutes the anti-hero’s life.

Cummings’ performance is a memorable one, and he carries the movie on his shoulders without flinching. Going from laughter to tears in a split-second, his portrayal of a cop on the verge of a nervous breakdown never feels forced or overdone, due to the touching subtlety and emotional generosity he provides to the part. His talent as a director undeniably complements his comedic genius, as he seems to be perfectly aware of how and when to use his incredibly diverse set of acting skills. This combination results in an honest and forceful feature epitomising the necessity and quality of American independent cinema.

Thunder Road only seems to fail in its candid and hopeful finale: in an unusually cyclical film which follows Arnaud’s ups and downs, the most tender episodes are always followed by cynical call-backs to reality. Cummings’ decision to ultimately end on a high note ignores that trend, favouring instead a deeply American and wholesome, though ephemeral, conclusion to his character’s road towards redemption.

Thunder Road will have its UK premiere at the BFI London Film Festival on October 10th. Check out its trailer: