Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Charlotte Le Bon
Starring: Joseph Engel, Sara Montpetit, Monia
Chokri, Karine Gonthier-Hyndman, Arthur Igual
Directorial debuts of actors tend more often than not to be stagey
affairs filled with dialogue, especially if said actor has cast
themselves in a lead role. That's certainly not the case with Canadian
star Charlotte Le Bon, whose feature debut as writer/director,
Falcon Lake, is a dreamy, cinematic mood piece that largely shuns words in favour
of imagery to tell its coming-of-age story. It's one of the more
impressive transitions from acting to directing I've seen in some
time.
Loosely based on French comic boom artist Bastien Vivès' graphic
novel 'Une sœur', Falcon Lake sees a French family head to
the titular location, a scenic spot in rural Quebec. 13-year-old Bastien
(Joseph Engel) and his mum (Monia Chokri), dad (Arthur Igual) and younger brother (Thomas Laperriere) are staying at the
home of his mum's old friend (Karine Gonthier-Hyndman). It's one
of those classic lived-in homes that French speakers favour, filled with
unmade beds, graffitied walls and creaking staircases. It's a home
rather than an investment, and boy it looks comfortable, the sort of
place where a kid doesn't have to worry about breaking good china.
Not that Bastien should have such concerns. He's a quiet lad, initially
more interested in playing his handheld Nintendo and watching cartoons
with his brother than in getting into any mischief. That all changes
when he becomes beguiled by his host's 16-year-old daughter Chloé (Lily
Collins lookalike Sara Montpetit). At first Chloé is none too
happy to be lumbered with this awkward kid. She'd much rather spend her
time drinking, smoking weed and snogging the older teenage boys whose
families have pitched up for the summer. That gradually changes as she
discovers that Bastien is a kindred spirit. For all her pouty front,
Chloé is equally awkward, given to childlike dreaming that's cruelly
mocked at one point by a boy she has her eye on. Something of a
fantasist, Chloé has seemingly invented a legend concerning a ghost that
haunts the lake, and is delighted to find Bastien swallows the tale. In
what feels like a nod to Harold and Maude, she also likes to play dead, roping Bastien into taking pictures of
her in various cadaverous poses.
Of course, being a 13-year-old boy (one who keeps reminding us he's
almost 14), Bastien's hormones begin racing in the presence of the
enigmatic older girl, something she seems to delight in exploiting. But
what seems like mocking flirtation at first turns into what might be
genuine attraction on Chloé's part. Unlike the older boys who simply
want to get their grubby little mitts on her body, Bastien has a genuine
interest in Chloé, though he certainly also wouldn't say no to getting
his own grubby little mitts on her. But perhaps what's most appealing to
Chloé about this young boy is that he represents a childhood she's
unready to leave behind. She confesses that while the other girls her
age are obsessed with sex, she's still a virgin and has no real interest
in such matters. In Bastien's presence she doesn't have to worry about
such things, as she's always the one in control. For Chloé, Bastien
represents one last childhood summer. For Bastien, Chloé potentially
offers that giant step into adulthood.
With its sun-dappled setting and taboo subject of teenage sexuality,
Falcon Lake could have come off as a seedy modern update
of the sort of movies uber-perv David Hamilton made in the '70s, an
excuse to display underage flesh in the name of art. But while this is
ostensibly Bastien's story, it's easy to surmise it's Chloé who is the
surrogate for the woman behind the camera. Far from a story of children
embracing adulthood before their time, this is a movie about how for all
their bluster, kids really just want to be kids. You might surmise that
as someone who was plunged into the world of modelling when she was the
same age as Chloé, Le Bon sees something of herself in her film's female
lead, a young woman not quite ready to leave childhood and all its
freedoms behind just yet, but who is being pressured into growing up so
her looks can be commodified and possessed.
At the same time, Le Bon never loses sight of this being a movie seen
through the eyes of a 13-year-old boy. Much has been made in recent
years of the idea of a filmmaker's gaze reflecting their gender, the
notion being that men film women differently than women might, and vice
versa. Of course, any good filmmaker will concede their own personal
"gaze" to that of their film's protagonist, as Le Bon does here. Chloé
is viewed by Le Bon's camera as she would by a hormonal but shy
13-year-old boy. She's seen first as something of an apparition,
appearing in spectral silhouette in the darkness of the bedroom she
shares with Bastien. For a while we just see the back of her head as she
retreats upstairs in that way all teenagers do, desperate to avoid
hanging out with boring grown-ups, or as she walks ahead of the
burdensome Bastien, who gazes intently at her flowing locks. As she
begins to open up to Bastien, we begin to see more of her face, and the
surly pout gives way to the self-conscious smile of a teenage girl who
probably once found herself lumbered with braces.
Le Bon's debut suggests great things to come. She's made a movie with a
universal theme everyone can relate to (though the usual pearl clutchers
will probably accuse her of "grooming" her young actors; sigh), but
which feels intensely personal. Along with cinematographer
Kristof Brandl she's created an evocative world that will have
you pining for your own childhood summers. Falcon Lake is a beautiful
setting, captured in a manner that almost allows you to catch the faint
tang of wild heather hanging in the late summer air, of dying bonfires,
of hash and suncream. It's an equally beautiful film.
