THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY
THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY |
 |
Based on memoris by the former editor of Elle France after he suffers a paralysing stroke. | score 4+ |
moviereview rates films from 1 (unwatchable) to 5 (unmissable) |
| FIND A MOVIEREVIEW |
| Cast Mathieu Amalric, Emmanuelle Seigner, Marie-Joseé Croze, Max Von Sydow Director Julian Schnabel Screenwriter Ronald Harwood Country France (subtitles) Rating / Running Time M / 112 minutes Australian Release February 2008 Official Site (c) moviereview
2006-2008
ABN 72 775 390 361 |
Not
surprisingly, some true stories contain more truth than others. So it
is refreshing when a film more than fulfils that uncertain promise.
Based on the startling memoirs of Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
is a heart-wrenching account by a former editor of Elle France who was
struck by a crippling stroke. Neither rogue nor saint, Bauby’s
complicated life was drastically altered when, aged 43, he was left
paralysed and in control of only one eye. We learn this the same time
he does, hearing his thoughts, seeing from his singular point of view,
remaining just as confused. Schnabel, eager we should experience the
same psychological torment as his subject, presents a blurred, unmoving
world as realisation slowly dawns upon us all. This magnificent opening
sets the tone for an extraordinary film that runs the full spread of
human emotion. It is a story that could ruin seasoned directors, much less one on his third feature. Not only do events play in contained, static environments, his lead character has nothing to work with other than an eye. Yet Amalric’s performance is mesmerising. His contorted, unmoving face expresses more feeling than seems humanly possible, and as Bauby learns to communicate through blinking – one for A, two for B – he overcomes excruciating self-pity to write a memoir, one letter at a time. In many regards, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a love story; between Bauby and his carers, his family and a life that he no longer takes for granted. His memoir is filled with sadness, lust, hope and fancies that partially echo the angry heart of The Sea Inside. Yet the core is different, and Schnabel invests it with an artist’s vision to create a bewitching film, a luscious beauty that, like Bauby’s memoir, runs the miserably happy spread of human experience. // COLIN FRASER |