Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Patricia Mazuy
Starring: Arieh Worthalter, Achille Reggiani, Y-Lan Lucas, Leïla Muse, Frédéric van den Driessche
It's often said that cruelty to animals is an indicator that someone
might have a similar propensity for violence towards humans, and most
serial killers begin their fledgling careers by "practicing" on animals.
But what if this advancement from torturing and killing animals to doing
likewise to humans skips a generation? That's the unique question posed
by director Patricia Mazuy's atmospheric if inconsistent thriller
Saturn Bowling.
In the Northern French town of Caen, Armand was known as the king of
the local hunting community, bagging prey in France and abroad. When
Armand dies he leaves his bowling alley and its connected apartment to
his police detective son Guillaume (Arieh Worthalter). Armand's
other son, also named Armand (Achille Reggiani) received nothing
in the will thanks to their estranged relationship. Not wanting the
bother of running a bowling alley, and maybe feeling a little bad for
Armand, Guillaume offers the job of managing the establishment to his
brother. Equally estranged from Guillaume, Armand is initially reluctant
but ultimately decides it beats his current job as a nightclub doorman,
not to mention that he's homeless and has been sleeping in the club. And
when he pulls on his old man's snakeskin jacket, he's sold on his new
role.
Mazuy and co-writer Yves Thomas split their film into roughly
two distinct chapters, each foregrounding one of the brothers. We're
introduced to Armand in a manner that lures us into sympathy for the big
lug that we'll later regret. He's clearly down on his luck, and his
opposition to his father and his hunting buddies will get most viewers
on his side. The contrast between his smartly dressed brother and
Armand's one set of hoody and jeans similarly plays into certain class
prejudices we might hold. Plus, in the current climate, there's very
little appetite for movies that portray a cop as the good guy.
Saturn Bowling is more nuanced than that. Guillaume is
far from likeable, but his brother is a monster. Once he takes over the
bowling alley Armand begins to use his position as a means to impress
young female customers. After a couple of failed attempts, Armand is
able to lure one unsuspecting woman upstairs to his apartment, where
rough sex turns to physical violence and ultimately murder. That Armand
was able to win us over earlier (thanks to Reggiani's ability to switch
between charmingly vulnerable and outright terrifying) negates any
questions we might have regarding why a young woman would fall for his
ruse.
Mazuy shoots the killing in the sort of unflinching detail French
filmmakers have been known for since the 2000s era of New French
Extremity. What makes it particularly disturbing is the lack of
resistance by Armand's victim (a brief but haunting performance by
Leila Muse), hoping in vain that if she gives way Armand will
stop short of taking her life. There's clever use of Reggiani's
physicality here, as his previously stooped and slouched shoulders
suddenly expand like the feathers of some sinister peacock. It's a
disturbingly effective means of illustrating the newfound power Armand
is embracing in controlling someone more vulnerable than himself.
If it seems we're in for a Columbo style narrative of a
detective playing cat and mouse with a killer whose guilt has been made
explicit to the audience, it's a surprise when Mazuy makes the odd
decision to render Armand a background figure for much of the rest of
the movie. Instead we focus on Guillaume and his investigation, along
with his unlikely romance with Xuan (Y-Lan Lucas), an
eco-activist who has drawn the ire of his fellow cops and the local
hunters, who see her as a threat to their sick hobby. Guillaume finds
himself torn between his new lover and his late father's friends, who
happen to be some of the most influential men in town. With its dynamic
of hunters as an illustration of patriarchal bonds, fans of French
cinema may see Saturn Bowling as a spiritual successor to
Serge Leroy's 1975 thriller La Traque, in which a similar group of influential hunters try to cover up a
rape committed by one of their members.
What muddies the waters is Armand's apparent contempt for the hunters
and their hobby, though this could simply be fuelled by his hatred for
his late father. Armand doesn't seem to see any irony in his disgust
towards hunting animals, despite him being responsible for the many
young female corpses his brother is charged with investigating.
It's in the procedural element that Saturn Bowling begins
to come apart. If you're after a realistic look at a police
investigation into violence against young women in France then I suggest
the recent thriller The Night of the 12th
as an alternative, as Saturn Bowling bears little relation
to the reality of such procedures. Despite a half dozen dead bodies
showing up, the cases are left in the sole charge of Guillaume rather
than having a squad of investigators dispatched from Paris. There seems
to be a bizarre lack of interest from the media, with not so much as one
reporter or news crew showing up in town. Surely this would be front
page news in France? It's also difficult to buy into Armand being able
to get away with his crimes so easily. It shouldn't take Sherlock Holmes
to note that all the victims were last seen at his bowling alley, and
given Armand's favouring of attractive young women, it's not like they
would have gone unnoticed. Wouldn't Armand's staff have pegged their
boss regularly leaving the establishment with young women who just
happen to later turn up dead?
It all leads to a rather convenient and clichéd climax, and by that
point you'll have had to suspend a lot of disbelief to stay onboard with
Saturn Bowling's frustrating narrative. You might wonder if a good half hour of plot
development has been left on the cutting room floor, as the climax feels
oddly rushed, like an ending tacked onto the pilot episode of a TV show
that never made it to air. It's a shame as Mazuy displays a lot of
talent in creating a stifling, scuzzy atmosphere that will have you
needing a shower after viewing her film.
