Uptown Magazine - Winnipeg's Online Source for Arts, Entertainment & News
April 30, 2009
Feature Story
News & Views
Music
Arts
Movies
What’s Up
CD Reviews
All Reviews
Diversions
Special Projects
One to Watch
Reader Spotlight
Contests
Get your copy! Find the Uptown Magazine pickup location nearest you.
2009-04-30
Un comedy trés noir
B
IT'S NOT ME, I SWEAR (C'EST PAS MOI, JE LE JURE!)
May 1-3, 6 &7, Cinematheque
With It's Not Me, I Swear! noted Quebecois filmmaker Philippe Falardeau offers a bittersweet, focused glimpse into the boyhood of Leon Dore (Antoine L'Écuyer), a 10-year-old enfant terrible.
Leon comes across as a prepubescent version of Bud Cort in Harold & Maude. He employs a number of prankish suicide attempts, disconcerting his parents with these cruel, unfunny bids for attention. His older sibling, Jerome (Gabriel Maillé), strives for the appearance of normalcy in their sunny suburban abode, making him much more in line with their heavy-drinking dad, played by Daniel Brière.
Leon's mom (Suzanne Clément) is, in the words of her husband, a "failed painter," but she eventually absconds from the oppressive household to find her artistic self in Greece. A distressed Leon, together with newfound pal Lea (Catherine Faucher), connive to raise the necessary funds for a visit, after having been convinced that she's never going to return. Through arson and vandalism, this troublemaking twosome raises the stakes as Falardeau treats their dangerous actions with an esthetic that approaches childhood naiveté. This heightened chaos is normal in the eyes of a child, Falardeau suggests.
Falardeau downplays the '68 milieu present in the book by Bruno Hébert from which the film is adapted, perhaps rationalizing that hippie-wear and psychedelic colours only made it to the 'burbs after they'd already become unfashionable. Despite mention of the first stirrings of Réne Lévesque's Parti Quebecois, you'd be hard-pressed to determine exactly when this film takes place. Ditto on the soundtrack selections: although initially consisting of poppy, one-hit-wonders, it eventually morphs into acoustically driven singer/songwriter-type tracks, clearly not from the period.
Performances are endearing if unremarkable. L'Écuyer's Leon is not a patch on director François Truffaut's Antoine Doinel, despite an apparent reference in the way Leon likes to place his shirt collar over his mouth. Clément is an enigma, a loving mother one day who turns distant and abrasive the next - especially as the Dore household implodes beneath the eyes of its young lead. Brière is an alcoholic caricature, while Maillé barely registers.
Falardeau's lighthearted take on such dark humour is the saving grace. Even though the suicide attempts are handled in a droll fashion, these attention-getting ploys are clearly pleas from a lonely boy in need of a parental figure.
— Aaron Graham
Current Issue
•
Archive
•
What’s Up
•
Contact
•
Media Kit
•
Contests
© Uptown Magazine 2003, All Rights Reserved