A trade unionist becomes embroiled in a scandal after exposing secrets of
the nuclear power industry.
Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Jean-Paul Salomé
Starring: Isabelle Huppert, Grégory Gadebois, Marina Fois, Yvan Attal, Pierre Deladonchamps
Jean-Paul Salomé's (with co-writer Fadette Drouard)
corporate thriller opens in the aftermath of a severe attack; an act of
repulsive cruelty which will define La Syndicaliste's narrative and inaugurate the film's complex mediation on how violence
against women is perceived. In an in media res bustle of forensic activity
a wall eyed husband is spoken to in hushed tones by a crime scene
investigator while blue swaddled colleagues brush, dust and scrutinise his
comfortable home, with each fraught moment building further anticipatory
dread. We discover that in this ornate maison, the husband's wife, Maureen
Kearney (Isabelle Huppert), has been brutalised: assaulted, tied to
a chair and the letter A carved into her stomach with a kitchen knife
which was subsequently inserted into her vagina. Her attacker advised her
that this was merely a caution and left Kearney bound until a maid
discovered her six hours later...
Kearney is a real-life figure, with La Syndicaliste based on
the initial whistleblowing, successive intimidation and ultimate trial for
"false reporting of a crime" which the trade unionist ("syndicaliste")
experienced. In 2011, Kearney discovered a conspiracy involving French
nuclear power group Areva (where Kearney was shop steward), the
state-owned utility company EDF and China General Nuclear Power
Corporation (CGNPC). Essentially, a proposed deal would mean not only huge
job losses for Areva's French staff, but also the allocation of sensitive
nuclear technology to China - uh oh. Kearney's attempts to do the right
thing, however, led to the sickening events detailed in the opening.
Kearney maintains that the attack she suffered in December 2011 was a
direct result of her bringing the Chinese deal to light and was "a
warning" from Areva. Adapted from the book by
Caroline Michel-Aguirre, Salomé's film is an intriguing and
uncomfortable take on what happened and how it was received.
We cut back to a few months earlier where Kearney's vocation is
established with brisk efficiency. Arguing for the rights for female
strikers to collect redundancy payments, she cows a burly suit on a picket
line apparently just by virtue of her overwhelming cool. We then see her
go on to bemoan the cutting of gender equality seminars from the budget.
The events which La Syndicaliste are based upon are
recontextualised, quite bluntly, within an ongoing #metoo climate. It's
all there: misogyny, gaslighting, intimidation, belittling, sexism,
violation, threats, betrayal, institutional sexism, victim blaming… the
vile hallmarks of a culture where women are not only victims but cast as
malefactors, too.
With this, the heightened opening leads to a more nuanced arbitration of
the crime, which seems less about representing actual events than a
serpentine exploration of the ramifications of the assault. Primarily,
this is a vehicle for the great Huppert, with events refigured through via
this absolute master's imperial star identity. Changes extend from
contextual details such as Kearney's Irish nationality being transposed to
French, along with the reduced presence in the film of her grown up
children (who attested to the intimidation in real life), to the
well-established expectations we may have of this fearless and
controversial performer, along with her signature roles in films that
foreground dark sexual experience.
Crucially, Salomé and Drouard do not show us the rape. This decision,
which produces enigma, is consolidated by the dubious presentation of the
details surrounding the case: there are no fingerprints or DNA (other than
Kearney, her husband and the cleaner), their (gorgeous) German Shepard
didn't make a fuss when the assailant entered and there is the question of
why the attacker, if he was linked to Areva, would explicate such
connections with the carved A. Dispirited by the wilful disbelief of the
authorities and ostensibly wanting it all to go away, Kearney initially
says that she fabricated the attack, a claim which she soon goes on to
retract. It is suggested that Kearney doesn't seem upset enough by events
and is duly judged for her coolness and determination as if by not
presenting as a gibbering wreck is proof of disingenuity. All of which
creates an uneasy ambiguity which is consolidated by Huppert's aloof
presence: strong women with absolute and independent resolve are
instinctively regarded with suspicion and fear.
Nonetheless, La Syndicaliste proceeds to walk a narrative
tightrope where we are invited to question Kearney, a dynamic mediated by
Huppert's persona. Her inscrutability allows us no easy answers regarding
whether Kearney was raped, or if she wasn't and is yet nonetheless
prepared to jeopardise her life for the greater good by suggesting she
was. Radiating her characteristic chilly mysteriousness, Huppert is a
fascinating presence. Any other actor in the role may render
La Syndicaliste simply the sum of its parts, which is to
say, a straightforward drama. Refracted via God Huppert, we enter a murky
realm of moral relativity. She is, of course, incredible to look at
throughout (best outfits: a diaphanous butterfly-print housecoat, a silk
blouse with geometric blue patterns worn as she walks through the crime
scene, the fawn jacket at a court appearance), and engenders goose bumps
with a simple shrug or a minor twitch of her facial muscles (the
aforementioned court scene relies entirely on her iconic visage and its
fathomless ability to express emotion and create narrative). As such,
La Syndicaliste becomes less of an investigation, not so
much a recount and ultimately a showcase for Huppert's tense energy and
its elucidation of female experience: "Since when do we demand that men
are qualified," Kearney implores as she is surrounded, judged and
intimidated by men in false suits and presupposed power.
La Syndicaliste is in UK/ROI
cinemas from June 30th.
