THE SON (Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc Dardenne, 2003)

Reviewed: January 16th, 2003

We've all seen some von Triers, some Vinterbergs, and some Blair Witches in our day, but The Son (specifically the first forty minutes or so) takes shaky camerawork to a new extreme; it's the only film I've ever endured where ingesting Dramamine is not an unwarranted prerequisite. See, not only is everything handheld, but the camera hates being more than a foot from its subject, thereby adding intense claustrophobia to the already constant jerkiness. The question is begged: to what end are the Dardenne brothers utilizing this device? It's a deliberate act of audience alienation and surely the brothers are wise enough to recognize that if their aim is verite, their nauseating, unbroken motion is as severe a distancing technique as the most elaborate of Scorsese tracking shots or the quickest of Michael Bay cutting. The shakiness screams out loud and clear YoU ArE WaTcHiNg A MoViE!, since viewing a reality filtered through a shock therapy patient is on the other end of the spectrum from where how-an-average-human-being-sees-daily-life (which, in case you've been in outer space or on a five year bender, is pronouncedly static) is located. If the brothers were merely looking to add urgency they also failed, since after about ten minutes of prolonged upanddown and upanddown on the back of someone's neck, the anxiety quickly drains away and you adjust. Is it just sheer laziness then? Can the brothers simply not be bothered with such niggling annoyances as set-ups and tripods? Other critics have claimed everything from the camera representing the protagonist's "sense of disquiet that buzzes around him relentlessly" (Stephanie Zacharek), to it's the filmmakers suspiciously spying on him (Jeremy Heilman). Damned if I know the answer, but any way you slice it the camera movement is a big fat misfire. Slowly but surely the brothers ease up a bit though (not that they ever actually do use anything like a tripod, but at least the camera operator eventually seems to be making an effort to keep an occasionally steady shot).

The Son's about forgiveness and acceptance, but it's too muted and there's not enough here. Ostensibly detailing a man coming to grips with a harrowing challenge, I never felt his inner torment enough, never really got a sense of what would be the presumably enormous pain and conflict endured when grappling with the unique situation he finds himself in. The mousy Olivier Gourmet (best actor winner at Cannes 2002) does all he can with the role, bringing a quiet, affecting nobility to his carpentry teacher, but ultimately the brothers undermine his work by their consistent refusal to provide much raw lumber. He's a closed-off, detached figure, so why'd I spend over an hour and a half attempting to decipher him in vain? The brothers need to realize that a framed Dogme 95 certificate on their wall doesn't mean their film is emotionally viable. There are moments of power and my interest rarely waned, but the whole enterprise feels underdeveloped, like we're watching an elongated workshop exercise: here's your Big Dramatic Situation... run with it! This film is as stately and reserved as its title.

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