The Power of One: Isabelle Huppert's Solo Act in 'Marianne'
As I reflect on my journey as a film critic, I can't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards the films that have slipped through the cracks. It's a unique challenge for critics at Variety, where we strive to cover an extensive range of movies, from Hollywood blockbusters to hidden indie gems. Among these, one film that has piqued my interest is 'Marianne', a one-woman show starring the incredible Isabelle Huppert.
'Marianne' is a unique project, directed by Michael Rozek, who describes it as a "revolutionary" piece. Rozek's passion for the film is evident, as he has been persistently advocating for it on social media for over a year. With Huppert, my all-time favorite actress, at the helm, I was intrigued to see what this film had to offer.
In 'Marianne', Huppert delivers a long, intense monologue, written by Rozek. The camera captures her performance in several long takes, with subtle zooms and repositioning. While Huppert's presence is captivating, her non-native English and unusual gestures can be distracting. The challenge lies in believing that these words truly belong to her character, Marianne.
Huppert's fearless approach to acting is well-known. She has portrayed complex characters, from a disciplinarian in 'The Piano Teacher' to a woman intrigued by assault in 'Elle'. Her stage performance in 'Mary Said What She Said' showcased her energetic and avant-garde style, which Rozek could have drawn inspiration from for 'Marianne'.
Rozek aims to create an "alienation effect", a Brechtian technique, where the audience is aware of the artificiality of the performance. Huppert, seated on a blue couch, engages in a one-sided conversation with the audience, delivering Rozek's manifesto on the nature of reality in film. He challenges the notion of "realism" and questions the industry's focus on it.
"Wake up! Be real!" Huppert exclaims, breaking the fourth wall. But who is Rozek addressing? And who is he accusing of "suppressing" his film? His frustration is palpable, but the reality is that not everyone shares his vision. Cinema has the power to achieve more than mere realism; it can create engaging, stylized worlds that resonate emotionally.
Consider the works of Jean Cocteau, Tim Burton, and brilliant animation artists. Their creations offer a unique communion between the audience and the characters on screen. This is what Rozek aims for with 'Marianne', but it falls short of its revolutionary potential. While the film has its merits, it lacks the emotional depth and impact of similar works like Julian Rosefeldt's 'Manifesto'.
Rozek's defensive tone is intriguing. He seems to assume that audiences are less intelligent than they are, especially those seeking out non-traditional films like 'Marianne'. The film industry, however, is a business, and 'Marianne', with its estimated $350,000 budget, stands little chance of financial success.
'Marianne' is well-intentioned but naive. It aims to make audiences think about the content they consume and the potential of film. However, it fails to provide the enticing "carrot" that would draw them in. Even for a Huppert admirer like me, the film is a challenging watch. How can it appeal to casual cinephiles?
Huppert, as Marianne, says, "They think that you need to escape, to forget... your pain." Here, "they" refers to the industry executives who control the purse strings. Rozek believes that films should help audiences confront their pain, not numb it. While this idea is intriguing, 'Marianne' doesn't deliver on its promise.
It's true that the film industry often caters to prequels, sequels, and superhero movies, leaving intelligent adults feeling demoralized. But there are thousands of films that break the rules and offer unique experiences. As Ingmar Bergman once said, the greatest filmmakers capture life in a reflection. Film is a looking glass, as demonstrated in 'Marianne' when Huppert reads from I Corinthians into a mirror.
'Marianne' hints at mortality and real life, but it doesn't go far enough. It fails to deliver the cathartic epiphany that Rozek hints at. Instead of a Holden Caulfield-esque attack on phoniness, the film needs to offer a fresh insight or a bold call to action. Perhaps Huppert could break character and urge the audience to turn off the film and experience the world directly.
That, my dear Marianne, is the essence of getting real.
