mes critiques amateurs de films: 05/21/15

We all know people—if not directly, then through relatives or friends—who just can’t get their lives together. After second, third and seventh chances, they still make the same mistakes. Yes, we all know these people. But since we aren’t them, can we truly understand them? Can we explain why they are so self-destructive?

I detest using rhetorical questions in writing. (WARNING: Here comes another one.) What’s the point of asking a question and then providing no answer? But I’m breaking my own rule here because my preceding questions have no definitive answer.

That’s the point.

Emmanuelle Bercot, the director and co-writer of Standing Tall (La Tête Haute), makes said point in this film full of answerless questions about a boy doomed to delinquency, as he tries his best to mature into a man.

But will his best ever be enough?

At age six, Malony (Rod Paradot) sits quietly playing with toys, while his mother (Sara Forestier), in an anxious, drug-induced fit, tells social services they can have him and abandons him to the system.

Fast-forward 10 years, and Malony is back living with his mother. He’s been expelled for his frequent absences and violent tendencies toward teachers. He loves reckless driving—a skill he’s quite proud of—although he lacks a license. And if he lacks a car, he’ll simply steal one. No big deal.

Again and again, he winds up in juvenile court. Judge Florence Blaque (Catherine Deneuve), the children’s magistrate assigned to his cases, has a file on Malony that’s too thick to hold in one hand. She, along with his caseworker Yann (Benoît Magimel)—who was once a juvenile delinquent, himself—refuse to give up on Malony.

Will a juvenile detention center do the trick? Or must he go to prison if he can’t remedy his ways? What is the right choice for this child?

During the critical developmental year from age 16 to 17, Malony meets a girl and strengthens his relationships with Yann and Florence. He struggles to learn how not to be a delinquent, while enduring events that will change his life forever.

Standing Tall, which opened the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, is a coming-of-age story—always a popular choice for the silver screen. Yet, Bercot’s cinematic narrative focuses so precisely on character development—and sometimes the depressing lack thereof—that she takes the genre to new heights.

Her efforts would be fruitless without actors capable of fulfilling the demands of their roles. They did not disappoint.

In preparation for the film, Deneuve actually sat in on juvenile cases to understand how children’s magistrates deal with the delinquents they work with. In a post-premiere interview, she explained how surprised she was by those judges’ patience. She masterfully transferred that observation into the portrayal of her character.

How can this woman, who’s nearing retirement, continue to put up with such an ungrateful delinquent after all of the chances she’s given him?

Magimel delivers perhaps the most organic performance. There is constant guilt and frustration behind his character’s eyes. Although there is little mention of Yann’s delinquent history in dialogue, his expressions and tears of genuine self-doubt tell us all we need to know about how it affects him as a caseworker.

Can he ever successfully do his job and help Malony the way someone once helped him, if he can’t shake the ghosts of his past?

Cast as the character to be despised, Forestier believably plays the incompetent, drug-using mother. Then she surprises us by balancing her act with a mix of childlike benightedness that successfully induces empathy for her character. Whether she’s lying about not having children to get a man or crying uncontrollably in court as a manipulative way to excuse her son’s behavior, you can’t help but feel sorry for her, rather than blame her for Malony’s plight.

Is there any way to make this poor, oblivious woman aware of the extent to which she is the enabler here?

Then there’s Paradot’s performance, which tops all others in its authenticity. He plays the antagonist to his own protagonist with impeccable veracity.

Malony’s anger at the world, topped with a tinge of self-loathing, is palpable in his primeval screams. He often lashes out with violent thrashes and spitted slews of curse words. It’s enough to make you cringe… or even cry for him. Not a second seems scripted.

When he isn’t out of control, you can often tell he’s trying with every ounce of his strength to keep the monster within locked in its cage. He twitches his legs, embraces himself, contorts his face. Usually, to no avail. There are visible moments of introspection. But they are usually just that: moments.

Will Malony ever overcome his demons and succeed in life?

Artfully written, dutifully directed and wonderfully cast, Standing Tall isn’t a feel-good film, but it’s one that deserves watching. Sometimes the plot moves slowly, but then again, sometimes so does life—especially when you’re stuck in a rut like Malony.

Standing Tall provides a profound, honest portrait of a self-destructive individual trying to rise above himself. What this film doesn’t give you is much sense of resolution.

But does such a story deserve a substantially satisfying ending?