I would disagree that this is, in fact, a "comedy" in any normal sense of the word. It has a lot of comic moments, but it is a tragicomedy or perhaps (ultimately) even a near-tragedy.
I did not find Pruvost funny primarily based on his tics, but rather on his seemingly skewed way of handling his job. After a short while in this long film, his tics seemed relatively unimportant.
Here's an article about Monsieur Prevost in real life:
http://www.nordlittoral.fr/accueil/bern ... 0b0n139416" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
A core element of the film is about people writing off others based on superficial characteristics. Quinquin writes off foreigners based on religion and skin colors, and writes off the police commander based on age and goofiness. The commander writes off Quinquin because of his surliness.
One cannot assess what Dumont has done with Pruvost (and his character) and ignore what might be the most important single image in the film. The commander carrying out Mohammed, cradled in his arms, evoking the Pieta. If the tics are more important to viewers than this moment, I would say the fault lies with the viewers not looking deeply enough.
P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
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Michael Kerpan
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Dumont on Jason Cirot who plays Dany.
When Jason spins on himself, that’s something he found himself. We were looking for a way for him to hold himself in the film and he told me, “There’s a thing I like to do.” And off he went spinning. So I integrated it. There were times when he fell over. It’s funny, and people are going to say I’m making fun of the disabled guy. Of course not! I make as much fun of the captain falling as Dany falling. We all fall. He’s in on it. Jason knows he’s participating in a comedy. He understands, he’s not mentally impaired in the slightest. He’s acting, he’s performing a character who is what he, Jason, is. There’s no commentary: he is what he is, just like the rest of us. There’s no judgment. On the contrary, I think it’s an enrichment. By bringing people on to be as they are, I know that I will be true to the human enterprise. I think it’s worse to take a professional actor and turn him into a tool at his own hand.
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zedz
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
According to Dumont and the producers, it's a comedy, and according to the festival audience I saw it with, the funny looking people with tics were just hilarious. I think you're more sophisticated than the film here.Michael Kerpan wrote:I would disagree that this is, in fact, a "comedy" in any normal sense of the word.
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
It takes more than funny moments to make a comedy (in the conventional sense -- at least as that term is used in the Anglo-Saxon world). Of course, in France you have the precedent of Balzac's "Comedie humaine" -- most of which is not particularly knee-slapping. The people in this film aren't a whole lot more unusual than the folks who populate Pierre Perrault’s (fascinating) Île-aux-Coudres Trilogy, which is nominally a series of documentaries, featuring plenty of droll local "characters" and funny moments (the "cast" included mostly relatives and family friends).
zedz -- I have no idea where you saw this -- or who made up the audience -- but I find it hard to believe that any group of reasonably normal people would find the tics. quirks, etc of Dumont's characters affirmatively funny for an extended period of time. These features of the characters get processed -- and then simply become part of the background.
zedz -- I have no idea where you saw this -- or who made up the audience -- but I find it hard to believe that any group of reasonably normal people would find the tics. quirks, etc of Dumont's characters affirmatively funny for an extended period of time. These features of the characters get processed -- and then simply become part of the background.
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feihong
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Dumont says there that there is no commentary implicit in Dany spinning. Well, I think the commentary would be implicit in the repetition. It's well and good for Dumont to say he didn't intend for this aspect of the film to be read as making fun of the character, but again and again and again throughout the film we are called on to watch people with disabilities or a lack of grace, making idiots of themselves before our eyes. That might not have been what Dumont intended, but his film is stocked full of it, and I found it increasingly offensive as the film went on.
I was reminded of the scene in Memories of Murder where the cops and forensic examiners are constantly tumbling down the bluff towards the second crime scene. The humor in that scene is also based upon the pratfall, but with a considerably distinction which makes it not only palatable, but genuinely funny; the so–called "sliding fools" of Memories of Murder have complete agency as characters. They are free to take the hillside more carefully, navigating it with grace. But instead they choose to stumble blindly forward in a rush, and that sends them tumbling. It's a simple metaphor for the entire murder investigation in Memories of Murder, that doesn't ask us to mock people for what they endure, but rather for their poor decisions. Also, a lot of the humor in the slipping and sliding in that scene comes from the way we observe it through the detective's eyes, and watch as he dismays––time and again the people fall down the hillside, and the detective, who has witnessed this happening repeatedly, is powerless to prevent it. The humor comes partly from the way this invokes the detective's own blithe response to his own distress. He is powerless to control the rapidly devolving crime scene, and the bluff that people keep slipping down is a funny indicator of just how everything is falling apart around him. But the detective still has agency, and the other characters falling down the bluff do as well. By contrast, the characters in Lil' Quinquin have physical disabilities, impairing their equilibrium, their vision, their muscular control. And these are the characters that fall down all the time. Are those falls really that hilarious? Are they really, as Dumont says in that interview, indicative of the human condition, when we only see people fall who have less than average control over their ability to stay upright?
Also, that interview response by Dumont seems very disingenuous to me. First, Dumont distances himself from the decision to include the falls in the picture by saying the actor invented the movement himself. Then Dumont suggests that because the actor knows he's participating in a comedy, that implies that the character is self-aware within the comedy. The fact that we are asked to laugh at these characters who don't seem to be self-aware is a big part of what bothers me so much about the alleged comedy in this film. Does the improvisational evolution of Dany's character traits and the fact of the actor's not having a learning disability excuse the film's tone of superiority, its invitation to laugh at the character because Dany is so enfeebled? Dumont tries to say he balances the scales by having the Inspector fall as well. But the Inspector also has physical disabilities! You don't see Lil' Quinquin tumbling like an idiot, nor do you see the Inspector's assistant. Either Dumont is trying to dodge the issue, or he simply doesn't see it. And this is a film that has summoned up several important issues of group identity, only to try and sidestep them, I think, with facile generalizations. People with disabilities are not invisible in this film, as they are in Hollywood movies, but they sure are hilarious and quirky. People who are black have it rough in France, no doubt, as elsewhere, but the film is not about to make its black figures into characters just because the movie has raised the specter of race to the level of subject matter.
To say that the image of Mohamed is the key image in the film is quite a stretch. The film is about Lil' Quinquin and his world, and this image is one Lil' Quinquin doesn't even see. If we accept that the Inspector is a character whose observation of the world is equal to Lil' Quinquin's, and that he might be a second primary character in the film––even so, Mohamed's desperate breakdown is one of a series of incidents in the Inspector's daily routine. It's not even the most horrific image he has encountered in his investigation. And the Inspector doesn't appear deeply affected by the shootout, moreso than any of the other incidents he witnesses. Plus, the whole section on Mohamed cracking up is given little emphasis within the overall structure of the film. It's treated as an incident, and no more. An additional part of this is the way in which we're given no more empathetic perspective on Mohamed, as we are for Lil' Quinquin.
If we're going to read the image of the Pieta into it, I should point out that Mohamed himself might not really appreciate being drawn into a patently christian image in his final moment? I'm not saying the film is racist, but the ethnocentrism seeps off the film in its handling of this scenario, especially. The disturbing thing for me about this whole section is simply that Dumont is not more interested in Mohamed's story, and that he has no special sympathy for Mohamed that brings him deeper into the film. Mohamed never rises above the level of a crime statistic in the movie, whereas we come to understand Lil' Quinquin's world view with depth and sympathy. Why Lil' Quinquin, and not Mohamed? If Dumont was going to introduce such a serious subject as subversive racism and the damage it does to people who suffer from it, why introduce it in such a cursory way, comparable to the main work of showing us Lil' Quinquin's world from his own eyes? We get Lil' Quinquin in a huge range of moods, responding to stimuli and initiating events and confrontations. With Mohamed we get him crying a single tear, nobly but remotely, because people are pointlessly cruel to him. The difference in depth of examination between the two characters is considerable. And if that is because Lil' Quinquin is the main character, then I still have to wonder, why is Lil' Quinquin the main character?
As I have thought about the way this film "deals" with race, I keep being reminded of Michael Haneke's film Cache. whose driving racial "incident" is structured in a rather similar way––in other words, short encounters emphasizing exclusion, leading up to a violent act of despair and self-destruction. Cache is a film that centers on a white man unaware of his own part in a racist society, and in a sense we're meant to feel this way about Lil' Quinquin as well. But Cache does not ask us to identify so deeply with the white man at its center. The style of the film is remote, but it is remote from both protagonist and the supposed antagonist (the Algerian man the hero believes is responsible for the harassment of his family) in fairly equal measure. The violent action of the despairing Algerian man, himself harassed to the same degree the white protagonist had experienced, is not the principal plot line of Cache, nor is it the sole thematic subject. But the subject of race is treated with what I would call appropriate gravity and thorough intellectual analysis and understanding. The subject of race is tied inextricably to the primary subject matter of the film (the surveillance that disrupts the protagonist's family life). In Lil' Quinquin, one feels as if you could lift the whole of the Mohamed incident out of the movie without disrupting it in any large way. And Mohamed himself is dealt with in a relentlessly white, christian context, always as an outsider. We only gain sympathy for him in intellectual terms, because his story is rigged up to provide the town with a backdrop of racism, not because, as with Lil' Quinquin, we understand his emotional life and the way he sees the world. And Mohamed has no characterization beyond being black. We only feel that the film deals with race because the Inspector delivers a nearly Kramer-ish speech providing a sociological perspective, very late in the game. It was a little remarkable to me that, while the Inspector had never wasted a breath on Mohamed while he was alive, he was ready to completely compromise the crime scene by carrying Mohamed's body right out of it, in this bizarre, faux-humane gesture, with its pseudo-religious implication. Like the film's general attitude towards racism, the Inspector's useless post-mortem empathy is basically just window-dressing on a subject Dumont seems incapable of addressing in a deeply perceptive way.
I was reminded of the scene in Memories of Murder where the cops and forensic examiners are constantly tumbling down the bluff towards the second crime scene. The humor in that scene is also based upon the pratfall, but with a considerably distinction which makes it not only palatable, but genuinely funny; the so–called "sliding fools" of Memories of Murder have complete agency as characters. They are free to take the hillside more carefully, navigating it with grace. But instead they choose to stumble blindly forward in a rush, and that sends them tumbling. It's a simple metaphor for the entire murder investigation in Memories of Murder, that doesn't ask us to mock people for what they endure, but rather for their poor decisions. Also, a lot of the humor in the slipping and sliding in that scene comes from the way we observe it through the detective's eyes, and watch as he dismays––time and again the people fall down the hillside, and the detective, who has witnessed this happening repeatedly, is powerless to prevent it. The humor comes partly from the way this invokes the detective's own blithe response to his own distress. He is powerless to control the rapidly devolving crime scene, and the bluff that people keep slipping down is a funny indicator of just how everything is falling apart around him. But the detective still has agency, and the other characters falling down the bluff do as well. By contrast, the characters in Lil' Quinquin have physical disabilities, impairing their equilibrium, their vision, their muscular control. And these are the characters that fall down all the time. Are those falls really that hilarious? Are they really, as Dumont says in that interview, indicative of the human condition, when we only see people fall who have less than average control over their ability to stay upright?
Also, that interview response by Dumont seems very disingenuous to me. First, Dumont distances himself from the decision to include the falls in the picture by saying the actor invented the movement himself. Then Dumont suggests that because the actor knows he's participating in a comedy, that implies that the character is self-aware within the comedy. The fact that we are asked to laugh at these characters who don't seem to be self-aware is a big part of what bothers me so much about the alleged comedy in this film. Does the improvisational evolution of Dany's character traits and the fact of the actor's not having a learning disability excuse the film's tone of superiority, its invitation to laugh at the character because Dany is so enfeebled? Dumont tries to say he balances the scales by having the Inspector fall as well. But the Inspector also has physical disabilities! You don't see Lil' Quinquin tumbling like an idiot, nor do you see the Inspector's assistant. Either Dumont is trying to dodge the issue, or he simply doesn't see it. And this is a film that has summoned up several important issues of group identity, only to try and sidestep them, I think, with facile generalizations. People with disabilities are not invisible in this film, as they are in Hollywood movies, but they sure are hilarious and quirky. People who are black have it rough in France, no doubt, as elsewhere, but the film is not about to make its black figures into characters just because the movie has raised the specter of race to the level of subject matter.
To say that the image of Mohamed is the key image in the film is quite a stretch. The film is about Lil' Quinquin and his world, and this image is one Lil' Quinquin doesn't even see. If we accept that the Inspector is a character whose observation of the world is equal to Lil' Quinquin's, and that he might be a second primary character in the film––even so, Mohamed's desperate breakdown is one of a series of incidents in the Inspector's daily routine. It's not even the most horrific image he has encountered in his investigation. And the Inspector doesn't appear deeply affected by the shootout, moreso than any of the other incidents he witnesses. Plus, the whole section on Mohamed cracking up is given little emphasis within the overall structure of the film. It's treated as an incident, and no more. An additional part of this is the way in which we're given no more empathetic perspective on Mohamed, as we are for Lil' Quinquin.
If we're going to read the image of the Pieta into it, I should point out that Mohamed himself might not really appreciate being drawn into a patently christian image in his final moment? I'm not saying the film is racist, but the ethnocentrism seeps off the film in its handling of this scenario, especially. The disturbing thing for me about this whole section is simply that Dumont is not more interested in Mohamed's story, and that he has no special sympathy for Mohamed that brings him deeper into the film. Mohamed never rises above the level of a crime statistic in the movie, whereas we come to understand Lil' Quinquin's world view with depth and sympathy. Why Lil' Quinquin, and not Mohamed? If Dumont was going to introduce such a serious subject as subversive racism and the damage it does to people who suffer from it, why introduce it in such a cursory way, comparable to the main work of showing us Lil' Quinquin's world from his own eyes? We get Lil' Quinquin in a huge range of moods, responding to stimuli and initiating events and confrontations. With Mohamed we get him crying a single tear, nobly but remotely, because people are pointlessly cruel to him. The difference in depth of examination between the two characters is considerable. And if that is because Lil' Quinquin is the main character, then I still have to wonder, why is Lil' Quinquin the main character?
As I have thought about the way this film "deals" with race, I keep being reminded of Michael Haneke's film Cache. whose driving racial "incident" is structured in a rather similar way––in other words, short encounters emphasizing exclusion, leading up to a violent act of despair and self-destruction. Cache is a film that centers on a white man unaware of his own part in a racist society, and in a sense we're meant to feel this way about Lil' Quinquin as well. But Cache does not ask us to identify so deeply with the white man at its center. The style of the film is remote, but it is remote from both protagonist and the supposed antagonist (the Algerian man the hero believes is responsible for the harassment of his family) in fairly equal measure. The violent action of the despairing Algerian man, himself harassed to the same degree the white protagonist had experienced, is not the principal plot line of Cache, nor is it the sole thematic subject. But the subject of race is treated with what I would call appropriate gravity and thorough intellectual analysis and understanding. The subject of race is tied inextricably to the primary subject matter of the film (the surveillance that disrupts the protagonist's family life). In Lil' Quinquin, one feels as if you could lift the whole of the Mohamed incident out of the movie without disrupting it in any large way. And Mohamed himself is dealt with in a relentlessly white, christian context, always as an outsider. We only gain sympathy for him in intellectual terms, because his story is rigged up to provide the town with a backdrop of racism, not because, as with Lil' Quinquin, we understand his emotional life and the way he sees the world. And Mohamed has no characterization beyond being black. We only feel that the film deals with race because the Inspector delivers a nearly Kramer-ish speech providing a sociological perspective, very late in the game. It was a little remarkable to me that, while the Inspector had never wasted a breath on Mohamed while he was alive, he was ready to completely compromise the crime scene by carrying Mohamed's body right out of it, in this bizarre, faux-humane gesture, with its pseudo-religious implication. Like the film's general attitude towards racism, the Inspector's useless post-mortem empathy is basically just window-dressing on a subject Dumont seems incapable of addressing in a deeply perceptive way.
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Michael Kerpan
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
I really don't know what to say about your perspective, Feihong. We really do not seem to have seen the same film. Not really any room for fruitful discourse.
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Not wishing to resurrect the above conversation (hell, I can't even bring myself to read discussions that long anymore), but I have to say I'm 100% with MK about the tone of the film (the whole thing is essentially L'Humanité with the burlesque-comic stuff dialled up to a point where it really goes beyond comic relief to something different) and about the significance of the religious imagery which is a crucial (and once again unsurprisingly overlooked/unrecognized) feature in his entire oeuvre. Also it seems quite obvious to me that to view it as some kind of a whodunit where the identity of the murderer has any relevance is to misunderstand the film very very badly (I'm not saying I understand it correctly, but I'd like to think I did understand that much).
When I saw it (theatrical, full house) there were LOTS of laughs at the beginning, but they gradually evened out as the film progressed: towards the end I think the (fewer) laughs were more of bemusement and nervousness than hearty amusement.
As for if anyone else was bothered by it, the venerable Miguel Marías named it "the worst, dumbest, ugliest, most unfunny and most despicable thing I have suffered this year (...) which curiously nobody else seems to find objectionable" - so you're definitely not without authoritative support on that opinion, feihong!
When I saw it (theatrical, full house) there were LOTS of laughs at the beginning, but they gradually evened out as the film progressed: towards the end I think the (fewer) laughs were more of bemusement and nervousness than hearty amusement.
As for if anyone else was bothered by it, the venerable Miguel Marías named it "the worst, dumbest, ugliest, most unfunny and most despicable thing I have suffered this year (...) which curiously nobody else seems to find objectionable" - so you're definitely not without authoritative support on that opinion, feihong!
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Michael Kerpan
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Agree, not even remotely a "whodunit". ;-}
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Wow, feihong, I just read your posts - sorry for not taking the time to earlier on. This is all very interesting to me because I've been wondering what sort of an impression PQ might make out of context, that is, on someone unfamiliar with Dumont's work (I actually suspect that Marías isn't familiar with his oeuvre either - not that I'd presume it would affect his judgment, but still). Apparently a very strange one!
I genuinely fucking loathe Fargo and the insipid variety of braindead irony peddled by the Coens and their unfortunately numerous imitators from the depth of my guts, and I'm pretty sure that Dumont's attitude here is more or less the diametrical opposite of their smug condescension (towards both their characters and their audience). The girl and her song are definitely not meant to be viewed the way you took them, and I'd say the same goes for all the people with either disabilities (have a look at Camille Claudel 1915 when you have time...) or obnoxious traits (see La Vie de Jésus) - as has been stated already, a lot of the film is about how things can be inadequate or irritating or ridiculous and still every bit as worthy of our attention and recognition and sympathy, and certainly as deserving of grace and redemption. (Then again, with the bumbling clerics in the funeral scene, I think the scales might tip a bit more on the side of ridicule, given Dumont's well-documented impatience with / scorn towards all forms of institutionalised religion - speaking of which: with all respect, to even think of trying to map the kind of interdenominational juxtapositions that you imply re: the Pieta image doesn't really strike me as a very good idea - and would probably hardly occur to anyone with any familiarity with Dumont's religious-philosophical thinking)
Now that it's up on Netflix Instant, would be interested to hear other people's thoughts, especially those who haven't seen a Dumont film previously!
I genuinely fucking loathe Fargo and the insipid variety of braindead irony peddled by the Coens and their unfortunately numerous imitators from the depth of my guts, and I'm pretty sure that Dumont's attitude here is more or less the diametrical opposite of their smug condescension (towards both their characters and their audience). The girl and her song are definitely not meant to be viewed the way you took them, and I'd say the same goes for all the people with either disabilities (have a look at Camille Claudel 1915 when you have time...) or obnoxious traits (see La Vie de Jésus) - as has been stated already, a lot of the film is about how things can be inadequate or irritating or ridiculous and still every bit as worthy of our attention and recognition and sympathy, and certainly as deserving of grace and redemption. (Then again, with the bumbling clerics in the funeral scene, I think the scales might tip a bit more on the side of ridicule, given Dumont's well-documented impatience with / scorn towards all forms of institutionalised religion - speaking of which: with all respect, to even think of trying to map the kind of interdenominational juxtapositions that you imply re: the Pieta image doesn't really strike me as a very good idea - and would probably hardly occur to anyone with any familiarity with Dumont's religious-philosophical thinking)
Now that it's up on Netflix Instant, would be interested to hear other people's thoughts, especially those who haven't seen a Dumont film previously!
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Michael Kerpan
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
This was actually my first Dumont film.
I did not find him ridiculing the characters anymore than I foumd Bunuel to be ridiculing Muni in his films. An eccentric character, funny to a certain extent due to eccentricity on first meeting, but then you just start seeing her as a person.
I did not find him ridiculing the characters anymore than I foumd Bunuel to be ridiculing Muni in his films. An eccentric character, funny to a certain extent due to eccentricity on first meeting, but then you just start seeing her as a person.
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Well then Michael, I will look forward to hearing how you find his other stuff if/when you get around to it! 
Now that you mentioned Buñuel (and Muni! what a woman!), I was reminded of something interesting: last week I attended a screening of Nazarín presented by the above-mentioned señor Marías, and he spoke of it as a rare Buñuel film in that the protagonist is viewed with sympathy, whereas in his other films he finds him to criticize or even ridicule them. This struck me as a very odd remark - I have never thought of Buñuel placing himself above his characters - not that I would presume to challenge it either, MM being something of an authority on Buñuel, but thinking of it now I find it very interesting how wildly different impressions or interpretations people can have when it comes to depicting things that are simultaneously (say) ridiculous and touching, like the people in Buñuel's films. So I'm just wondering what it is that is at work here and if it might also have some bearing on these polarized reactions to P'tit Quinquin.
(This could actually easily branch out to a discussion of Ulrich Seidl's films which seem to invite exactly the same manner of misreading...)
Now that you mentioned Buñuel (and Muni! what a woman!), I was reminded of something interesting: last week I attended a screening of Nazarín presented by the above-mentioned señor Marías, and he spoke of it as a rare Buñuel film in that the protagonist is viewed with sympathy, whereas in his other films he finds him to criticize or even ridicule them. This struck me as a very odd remark - I have never thought of Buñuel placing himself above his characters - not that I would presume to challenge it either, MM being something of an authority on Buñuel, but thinking of it now I find it very interesting how wildly different impressions or interpretations people can have when it comes to depicting things that are simultaneously (say) ridiculous and touching, like the people in Buñuel's films. So I'm just wondering what it is that is at work here and if it might also have some bearing on these polarized reactions to P'tit Quinquin.
(This could actually easily branch out to a discussion of Ulrich Seidl's films which seem to invite exactly the same manner of misreading...)
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Michael Kerpan
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Characters in Bunuel may behave in ways that are odd and merit/invite ridicule -- and yet may nonetheless evoke our sympathy. Ditto for Imamura. Ditto for Payne in Nebraska. Ditto for Dumont in PQ.
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Imamura, totally! Happened to witness similarly divided reactions to The Pornographers not long ago. Such a wonderful film.
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colinr0380
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
For some reason the Bunuel discussion reminds me of the ostrich in the final scene of The Phantom of Liberty! Even the quizzical-looking animal gets treated with some sympathy and has the honour of being the focus of the final shots!
The thing that unites the filmmakers that Michael mentions would seem to be that all have a critique of the society or institutions that the characters are trapped in (for Alexander Payne I often think of Laura Dern's character in Citizen Ruth getting pulled about by both sides of the abortion debate as a symbol of either a sinner or a martyr, neither of whom are treating her as a normal, flawed and fallible, human being), yet on the individual character level there is a sympathy for the specific characters trapped and imposed upon by outside forces. The characters are complex, but the society is reductive and reducing them. In some ways it has to reduce in order to continue to function in an untroubled manner.
I don't have quite such a negative reaction to the Coen Brothers' films, but it does often seem that their films are about almost the exact opposite: rather broadly caricatured (therefore playing as less sympathetic) characters opposed to an almost oppressively 'normal' society, but a society that isn't really in any danger of being too severely critiqued by the film, unlike the characters themselves who often have to pay a specific price for any deviation from the norm.
The thing that unites the filmmakers that Michael mentions would seem to be that all have a critique of the society or institutions that the characters are trapped in (for Alexander Payne I often think of Laura Dern's character in Citizen Ruth getting pulled about by both sides of the abortion debate as a symbol of either a sinner or a martyr, neither of whom are treating her as a normal, flawed and fallible, human being), yet on the individual character level there is a sympathy for the specific characters trapped and imposed upon by outside forces. The characters are complex, but the society is reductive and reducing them. In some ways it has to reduce in order to continue to function in an untroubled manner.
I don't have quite such a negative reaction to the Coen Brothers' films, but it does often seem that their films are about almost the exact opposite: rather broadly caricatured (therefore playing as less sympathetic) characters opposed to an almost oppressively 'normal' society, but a society that isn't really in any danger of being too severely critiqued by the film, unlike the characters themselves who often have to pay a specific price for any deviation from the norm.
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JabbaTheSlut
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Dumont shows us a picture of mankind without judgment, disabilities, no disabilities, arabs, blacks, ugly people, religious people, the insane, the innocent... We are them.
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Yes, exactly - and might we not thus assume that a certain kind of viewer with a particular psychological disposition (not referring to anyone mentioned in this thread, just generally wondering about this phenomenon) also has to reduce such complex characters - or, more importantly, the filmmaker's refusal to simplify them - in order to continue to function in an untroubled manner? So that to presume a condescending attitude on part of the director ("what a dick, putting these disabled people on display to be laughed at") is actually to project one's frustration with one's own incapability (or unwillingness) to accept and deal with that complexity, namely the fact that something can be simultaneously obnoxious and lovable, or ridiculous and sincere, or whatever false dichotomies we can come up with. (I mean this is kiddie level psychology now, but it's amazing that it keeps popping up even among critics and people who really should know better - I think it's clearly discernable in the reactions provoked by Seidl's films, with seriously outraged people accusing him of exploiting and ridiculing his characters, as if there could be no other possible motive to show these kinds of things..!)colinr0380 wrote:The characters are complex, but the society is reductive and reducing them. In some ways it has to reduce in order to continue to function in an untroubled manner.
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feihong
- Joined: Thu Nov 04, 2004 4:20 pm
Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
This last post suggests that those of us who have a problem with the film are really battling our own frustration, brought about because the film was just too deep for us to handle. It disrupted my equilibrium, this great film, and I just had to rail against it, I guess, because it showed me my thinking was shallow.
Look, I could complain about ethnocentrism and implicit mocking of people with disabilities in a lot of fancy, expensive Hollywood comedies as well as this film, but I don't waste any time on it because those movies don't rise to the level of craft that this film does. Lil' Quinquin is very well–made, and from a superficial standpoint, it's sensitively made as well. It's only when you stop and think about the degree of sensitivity the film brings to the "problem subjects" it invokes that the cracks in the film's veneer make themselves apparent. I had hoped that the film would be intelligent and penetrating in its handling of its subject matter, but instead I feel the film is possessed of an aberrant tone––one perhaps invisible to Dumont and the film's other makers, and one which grows uglier as the film persists.
The conflict, for me, lies in the the specific shooting style Dumont employs; the way he utilizes comedy. And can we please just acknowledge that Dumont himself identifies the film as an attempt at comedy? In the interview posted above he admits that he and the actors are working in comedy. Specifically he says that the actor playing Dany is working in comedy, which has to mean that the spinning and falling down that make up much the majority of Dany's screen time is the "comedy" Dumont is talking about. As to the style, it's the way in which Dumont pauses for us to gaze at characters with physical disabilities or cognitive disabilities, in shallow focus, framed in the center of a cinemascope image, that unsettles me. These characters are pulled far to the foreground of what I would call the film's signature shot, taking up usually the central third of the picture. The background behind them is blurred out, and we really have nothing else to look at but these figures. In the case of the Inspector, he often stares straight back at us and twitches, presumably involuntarily, for a good long stretch before he moves or alters his gaze. We are given this same signature shot again and again...and it's not a flattering shot. It's a shot you use to put someone on display. The reference to Fargo I made in an earlier post was a reference to this shooting style, which Fargo utilizes in much the same way. In that film too, we are given awkward visages of desperate, generally idiotic figures, whom we are invited to laugh at expressly because we feel superior to them. We look at their follies, and we think we would be smarter; better; more resourceful. The humor in Lil' Quinquin is set up in the same way. People are served up right in front of the lens for our wry and tender observations. These shots are generally stretched with a wide-angle lens––this is not documentary or reportage. The effect is that the face on display is distorted. In this case, it's distorted further than what is usual, because the majority of the people on display in this film seem chosen to look very odd.
Here I have to question why the characters look so incessantly odd with such pervasive repetition. Apparently this is a Dumont "signature move"––casting odd–looking people in many of his parts. Dumont implies in some of that aforementioned interview text that he means to film life without judgement, and perhaps that includes people falling down and whatnot. Well, I would say the film contains more than the general average of awkwardness on display, and if Dumont thinks that doesn't imply a judgement on his part...then what is it he thinks he's doing? His visual style is piercingly precise; so purposefully crafted that it gives him no objective distance––he is always vignetting people for our perusal––showing us only what he has conceived and wishes to see––and he gives his vignetted characters long periods in which to stand uncomfortably in front of our view, twitching or grimacing. We are meant to stare at these faces, in this...comedy. Are we not meant to find them funny?
Dumont's story is rigged as any fiction, and it contains his thoughts and feelings, whether he would like the film to or not. And I wonder what he expected us to think of Dany whirling and falling again and again. Were we really meant to just throw up our hands at this, chuckle at ourselves and say, such is life. We are always falling down. Just like that guy whirling, who just happens to have mental retardation, or something. Is that it? What in the film requires that our analysis stop at that superficial summary? Why stop scrutinizing the film before we notice that it's really only the misfits, the amateurs, and the disabled characters that spend all their time toppling and doing tricks for us? I'm being told no, I'm wrong. But I haven't been given any alternative read of the film that accounts for the style, the focus of the film, and why those things are there. I've certainly heard it implied here that the film is deep and that I haven't dived deep enough into it. Very well. Where are the deep dive readings? Show me something that competes with my own theories, and I might begin to buy yours.
And I have to point out that I took some pains to indicate that the condescending attitude on the part of the director was the impression which I got from the film, not a blanket statement of fact, or a direct accusation. The film felt as if it was condescending to its characters, and exploiting them for comedy. I'm not saying Dumont went out of his way to do so. I'm not even saying this is definitely a true assertion. But the impression I got when seeing the film suggested to me that Dumont was working in that direction––and possibly this is more unconscious than deliberate on his part. As a writer and filmmaker, I can attest to the way in which one can discover subconscious assumptions in your own work which you never knew were there. And I've had to deal with condescension buried in my own assumptions, and work to weed that disturbing subtext out of whatever I write or film next. It may be that Dumont sees the material in his film as innocent and funny. It may be that he sees the film as a generalized statement on the human condition (in that case, are we meant to read the characters with their afflictions as representative of all of us? As a stand–in for humanity at-large?). And it may be that he simply doesn't notice the degree to which the humorous tone of his movie relies upon the persistent exploitation of awkward behavior. As it stands I see no sign that Dumont is especially perceptive of the exploitation of physical quirks and the superficiality of the film's take on racism that I see going on in his movie. I don't get the impression that he understands the film from the context of representation of disadvantaged minorities. I don't necessarily think he feels that he is exploiting these minorities for a laugh. But I feel very strongly that that's what's happening in the film all the same.
Look, I could complain about ethnocentrism and implicit mocking of people with disabilities in a lot of fancy, expensive Hollywood comedies as well as this film, but I don't waste any time on it because those movies don't rise to the level of craft that this film does. Lil' Quinquin is very well–made, and from a superficial standpoint, it's sensitively made as well. It's only when you stop and think about the degree of sensitivity the film brings to the "problem subjects" it invokes that the cracks in the film's veneer make themselves apparent. I had hoped that the film would be intelligent and penetrating in its handling of its subject matter, but instead I feel the film is possessed of an aberrant tone––one perhaps invisible to Dumont and the film's other makers, and one which grows uglier as the film persists.
The conflict, for me, lies in the the specific shooting style Dumont employs; the way he utilizes comedy. And can we please just acknowledge that Dumont himself identifies the film as an attempt at comedy? In the interview posted above he admits that he and the actors are working in comedy. Specifically he says that the actor playing Dany is working in comedy, which has to mean that the spinning and falling down that make up much the majority of Dany's screen time is the "comedy" Dumont is talking about. As to the style, it's the way in which Dumont pauses for us to gaze at characters with physical disabilities or cognitive disabilities, in shallow focus, framed in the center of a cinemascope image, that unsettles me. These characters are pulled far to the foreground of what I would call the film's signature shot, taking up usually the central third of the picture. The background behind them is blurred out, and we really have nothing else to look at but these figures. In the case of the Inspector, he often stares straight back at us and twitches, presumably involuntarily, for a good long stretch before he moves or alters his gaze. We are given this same signature shot again and again...and it's not a flattering shot. It's a shot you use to put someone on display. The reference to Fargo I made in an earlier post was a reference to this shooting style, which Fargo utilizes in much the same way. In that film too, we are given awkward visages of desperate, generally idiotic figures, whom we are invited to laugh at expressly because we feel superior to them. We look at their follies, and we think we would be smarter; better; more resourceful. The humor in Lil' Quinquin is set up in the same way. People are served up right in front of the lens for our wry and tender observations. These shots are generally stretched with a wide-angle lens––this is not documentary or reportage. The effect is that the face on display is distorted. In this case, it's distorted further than what is usual, because the majority of the people on display in this film seem chosen to look very odd.
Here I have to question why the characters look so incessantly odd with such pervasive repetition. Apparently this is a Dumont "signature move"––casting odd–looking people in many of his parts. Dumont implies in some of that aforementioned interview text that he means to film life without judgement, and perhaps that includes people falling down and whatnot. Well, I would say the film contains more than the general average of awkwardness on display, and if Dumont thinks that doesn't imply a judgement on his part...then what is it he thinks he's doing? His visual style is piercingly precise; so purposefully crafted that it gives him no objective distance––he is always vignetting people for our perusal––showing us only what he has conceived and wishes to see––and he gives his vignetted characters long periods in which to stand uncomfortably in front of our view, twitching or grimacing. We are meant to stare at these faces, in this...comedy. Are we not meant to find them funny?
Dumont's story is rigged as any fiction, and it contains his thoughts and feelings, whether he would like the film to or not. And I wonder what he expected us to think of Dany whirling and falling again and again. Were we really meant to just throw up our hands at this, chuckle at ourselves and say, such is life. We are always falling down. Just like that guy whirling, who just happens to have mental retardation, or something. Is that it? What in the film requires that our analysis stop at that superficial summary? Why stop scrutinizing the film before we notice that it's really only the misfits, the amateurs, and the disabled characters that spend all their time toppling and doing tricks for us? I'm being told no, I'm wrong. But I haven't been given any alternative read of the film that accounts for the style, the focus of the film, and why those things are there. I've certainly heard it implied here that the film is deep and that I haven't dived deep enough into it. Very well. Where are the deep dive readings? Show me something that competes with my own theories, and I might begin to buy yours.
And I have to point out that I took some pains to indicate that the condescending attitude on the part of the director was the impression which I got from the film, not a blanket statement of fact, or a direct accusation. The film felt as if it was condescending to its characters, and exploiting them for comedy. I'm not saying Dumont went out of his way to do so. I'm not even saying this is definitely a true assertion. But the impression I got when seeing the film suggested to me that Dumont was working in that direction––and possibly this is more unconscious than deliberate on his part. As a writer and filmmaker, I can attest to the way in which one can discover subconscious assumptions in your own work which you never knew were there. And I've had to deal with condescension buried in my own assumptions, and work to weed that disturbing subtext out of whatever I write or film next. It may be that Dumont sees the material in his film as innocent and funny. It may be that he sees the film as a generalized statement on the human condition (in that case, are we meant to read the characters with their afflictions as representative of all of us? As a stand–in for humanity at-large?). And it may be that he simply doesn't notice the degree to which the humorous tone of his movie relies upon the persistent exploitation of awkward behavior. As it stands I see no sign that Dumont is especially perceptive of the exploitation of physical quirks and the superficiality of the film's take on racism that I see going on in his movie. I don't get the impression that he understands the film from the context of representation of disadvantaged minorities. I don't necessarily think he feels that he is exploiting these minorities for a laugh. But I feel very strongly that that's what's happening in the film all the same.
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repeat
- Joined: Wed Jun 24, 2009 8:04 am
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
I don't think in terms of "deep" and "shallow", but I do think that many people (not you, thinking more of the Seidl-haters here) prefer to have their pre-existing concepts left untroubled or strengthened by the films they see (hence the success of folks like Haneke, who seems to be never misunderstood, only loved or hated based on exactly correct interpretations of what he is doing). And I don't think we should go to the movies expecting to be untroubled (remember Durgnat: "a work of art that doesn't confuse us wastes our time").
What I do however suspect is that you're missing/misinterpreting aspects of the film due to insufficient familiarity with Dumont's earlier work, and possibly also a failure to engage with the mystical-religious aspirations of the film (judging by your non-mention of anything of the sort, except the suggestion of Christian chauvinism re: the Pieta scene) - which is probably the most common root of confusion regarding his films in general.
The foregrounded human figure in the center occupying most of the frame is in no way specific to Quinquin but is found in most Dumont films: it has to do with the dignity of the human being and also the history of religious art (the faces, the eyes, as an object of contemplation), the manufactured, unnatural pose as opposed to something "realistic" - he's spoken about this framing style at length somewhere but I can't find the quote right now, will post it when I do. How could we then suggest that he should have filmed these people differently? (Or should they not have been filmed at all? And what about Camille Claudel 1915?) We are indeed meant to stare at faces - we can find them funny, but we can also find them tragic, repellent, mysterious, sympathetic, graceful... in a word, I think we are meant to find them human, and all that that implies.
Of course Quinquin is Dumont's self-proclaimed foray into comedy, but maybe it's useful to bear in mind what he said already over fifteen years ago about comedy and tragedy in L'Humanité: "the sacred is attained through the burlesque, as well, because the burlesque borders what is serious, and [at] several moments in the film we find ourselves bordering the burlesque and we are also near tragedy. Tragedy quickly becomes burlesque. In certain situations... tragedy is both burlesque and absurd. And the film attempts to express these and offer them to the viewer."
Or, talking about Quinquin in a recent interview: "It’s a kind of instability vis-à-vis our academic and even moral canons. We’re used to going in one direction, that’s it. It really shakes you up to be tossed around between the grotesque, the comedic, and the absolutely serious, with deeply banal sociological and even historical elements thrown into the mix. That’s what I’m interested in: being jostled. I think we’re jostled in relation to our own ambiguity."
I'm not trying to turn your head here, but I would seriously recommend looking into Dumont's work a bit more and maybe come back to Quinquin later on (unless you end up finding his whole project objectionable, that is). The tricky thing with moral indignation is that it tends to be self-justifying: if someone finds a film morally dubious, any "evidence" to the contrary is likely to get dismissed as just a bunch of bad excuses, like justyifying callous exploitation with freedom of expression or whatever. Like I said earlier in this thread, exploitation couldn't be further from Dumont's motives, but if you choose to view it that way there isn't really too much anyone can say against that, is there?
What I do however suspect is that you're missing/misinterpreting aspects of the film due to insufficient familiarity with Dumont's earlier work, and possibly also a failure to engage with the mystical-religious aspirations of the film (judging by your non-mention of anything of the sort, except the suggestion of Christian chauvinism re: the Pieta scene) - which is probably the most common root of confusion regarding his films in general.
The foregrounded human figure in the center occupying most of the frame is in no way specific to Quinquin but is found in most Dumont films: it has to do with the dignity of the human being and also the history of religious art (the faces, the eyes, as an object of contemplation), the manufactured, unnatural pose as opposed to something "realistic" - he's spoken about this framing style at length somewhere but I can't find the quote right now, will post it when I do. How could we then suggest that he should have filmed these people differently? (Or should they not have been filmed at all? And what about Camille Claudel 1915?) We are indeed meant to stare at faces - we can find them funny, but we can also find them tragic, repellent, mysterious, sympathetic, graceful... in a word, I think we are meant to find them human, and all that that implies.
Of course Quinquin is Dumont's self-proclaimed foray into comedy, but maybe it's useful to bear in mind what he said already over fifteen years ago about comedy and tragedy in L'Humanité: "the sacred is attained through the burlesque, as well, because the burlesque borders what is serious, and [at] several moments in the film we find ourselves bordering the burlesque and we are also near tragedy. Tragedy quickly becomes burlesque. In certain situations... tragedy is both burlesque and absurd. And the film attempts to express these and offer them to the viewer."
Or, talking about Quinquin in a recent interview: "It’s a kind of instability vis-à-vis our academic and even moral canons. We’re used to going in one direction, that’s it. It really shakes you up to be tossed around between the grotesque, the comedic, and the absolutely serious, with deeply banal sociological and even historical elements thrown into the mix. That’s what I’m interested in: being jostled. I think we’re jostled in relation to our own ambiguity."
I'm not trying to turn your head here, but I would seriously recommend looking into Dumont's work a bit more and maybe come back to Quinquin later on (unless you end up finding his whole project objectionable, that is). The tricky thing with moral indignation is that it tends to be self-justifying: if someone finds a film morally dubious, any "evidence" to the contrary is likely to get dismissed as just a bunch of bad excuses, like justyifying callous exploitation with freedom of expression or whatever. Like I said earlier in this thread, exploitation couldn't be further from Dumont's motives, but if you choose to view it that way there isn't really too much anyone can say against that, is there?
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Michael Kerpan
- Spelling Bee Champeen
- Joined: Wed Nov 03, 2004 5:20 pm
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
I see no disrespect of the characters or the actors who portray them. And scanning the local coverage (in French), I see no sign that the local people perceived any disrespect.
Spoiler
FWIW -- I would note that the perfectly normal town officials are not only clueless, but also possibly (inadvertently) partially responsible for the death of one character -- when they interfere with the police commander's murder investigation.
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zedz
- Joined: Sun Nov 07, 2004 11:24 pm
Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Don't worry, this is just the boilerplate response from cultists to any substantial criticism of their object of blind worship: "it's just too deep for you, maaaan." Dumont attracts more cultists than your average auteur, because a) he's technically a really good filmmaker; b) he's pretentious; and c) he often includes contentious and extreme material in his films (so people can get their pulpy rocks off while still flattering themselves that they're having a 'high art' experience). But all the same, there's no point arguing with cultists.feihong wrote:This last post suggests that those of us who have a problem with the film are really battling our own frustration, brought about because the film was just too deep for us to handle.
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repeat
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Not sure if this even merits a reply, but I'd like to think there's rather a big difference between suggesting (as you seem to imply I was doing) that someone's mental capabilities are somehow below the film, and that they might not just have enough context to read it as intended. Also, even though by this I'll probably risk being branded a blind cultist, I don't think pretentiousness is a fair charge against him - in fact you'd be hard pressed to find an interview where he isn't quite clear and down-to-earth about what it is he's trying to do.
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Michael Kerpan
- Spelling Bee Champeen
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
I am troubled by the fact that certain members here are not content with expressing their loathing for the film at hand, but are also expressing a considerable degree of personalized contempt for those that have the temerity to express approval of the film. Sad. Really sad.
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accatone
- Joined: Thu May 04, 2006 12:04 pm
Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Especially sad, as both "parties (feihong/repeat)" try hard to make an/their argument and i am really enjoying this conversation! zeds comment is dumb.
While i can follow feihong's criticism i am not able to apply it to this film. The descriptions of certain scenes do make sense but fall through with the over all (motion) picture. There is more to the characters, which repeat allready explained in more detail in previous posts. I like MK :-} 's comparison with Bunuel. Chabrol could be added too (whom Fassbinder famously critiziesed for similar reasons as feihong does here).
Only recently, walking through La Slack, which is the "dune landscape" portrayed in Hors Satan and only few hundred meters of beach walk from Quinquin location, i noticed (but not approved) that Dumont has a house in this area. This is probably one of the dumbest conclusions, but what i am thinking here is that Dumont does indeed have a positiv relationship with this area and the people. Its indeed a very remote place and nothing compared to posh mediteranean french sea resorts. What i am trying to say is, that the described contradictions (mentally/moral and physically/spider man) in this film, do really show up in these kind of remote and cultural conservative places at large. I do not see the "Paris filmmaker view at rural, dumb village people here". I assume a real interest in the people here. Fuck i did add nothing to this conversation :-{
While i can follow feihong's criticism i am not able to apply it to this film. The descriptions of certain scenes do make sense but fall through with the over all (motion) picture. There is more to the characters, which repeat allready explained in more detail in previous posts. I like MK :-} 's comparison with Bunuel. Chabrol could be added too (whom Fassbinder famously critiziesed for similar reasons as feihong does here).
Only recently, walking through La Slack, which is the "dune landscape" portrayed in Hors Satan and only few hundred meters of beach walk from Quinquin location, i noticed (but not approved) that Dumont has a house in this area. This is probably one of the dumbest conclusions, but what i am thinking here is that Dumont does indeed have a positiv relationship with this area and the people. Its indeed a very remote place and nothing compared to posh mediteranean french sea resorts. What i am trying to say is, that the described contradictions (mentally/moral and physically/spider man) in this film, do really show up in these kind of remote and cultural conservative places at large. I do not see the "Paris filmmaker view at rural, dumb village people here". I assume a real interest in the people here. Fuck i did add nothing to this conversation :-{
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Michael Kerpan
- Spelling Bee Champeen
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
Thank you for the info as to Dumont's own geographical relationship to the places depicted in his films.
Pruvost's police commander reminded me, in some ways of Dostoevsky's Prince Myshkin -- also physically afflicted and discounted, and fallible, but with a true heart and his own kind of courage. And Quinquin is one of the most complex child characters in a film ever.
And thank you for your kind words (esp. since today is my birthday). ;-}
Pruvost's police commander reminded me, in some ways of Dostoevsky's Prince Myshkin -- also physically afflicted and discounted, and fallible, but with a true heart and his own kind of courage. And Quinquin is one of the most complex child characters in a film ever.
And thank you for your kind words (esp. since today is my birthday). ;-}
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repeat
- Joined: Wed Jun 24, 2009 8:04 am
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Re: P'tit Quinquin (Bruno Dumont, 2014)
accatone, it's not dumb, on the contrary very much on point: Dumont is a fiercely local filmmaker, born and living in Bailleul and only leaving the North when absolutely necessary (for example on Camille Claudel because that was a historical film and needed a particular location). He has often spoken about this in interviews, for example here ("A man’s relationship with his place of birth is unique; it requires no explanation, it is simply there and it belongs to me... I am bound to it with all my being, my blood flows through it. There is a mystical and sacred bond between me and that place, in all its immensity and profundity"). Also I remember reading some articles from the local papers around the time of filming Quinquin, I got the impression that he was quite well-liked over there and the locals seemed quite excited to be part of the whole thing. (Happy birthday, Michael!)