Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel & Benoît Poelvoorde, 1992
We have criminals as heroes in film all the time and we don't think twice about it; I had to work hard to figure out what the difference between those films and this one, in which a documentary crew follows a criminal, in a conceit that doesn't so much, as Netflix describes, mock reality television as it presages it. The violence here seems random, no-frills, perfunctory; it's not fun or exciting the way it so often can be in films. Interestingly, Wikipedia describes the criminal Ben (Poelvoorde) as a serial killer; he struck me more as just a thief who kills people. Maybe more glamorous films (not to mention our culture at large) have deluded me into imagine serial killing as something more splashy, exquisite and byzantine. Maybe the film was so skillful at normalizing the violence that it ceased to strike me as something out of the ordinary.
Wikipedia also describes Ben as charming; I found him completely insufferable. He has that smarmy self-satisfied know-it-all air that drives me up a wall. I don't like cultural pretension in normal people, and I find it no less appealing just because you don't expect it in a thug. Serious credit must be given to Poelvoorde, who contorts his horsey, plasticine face into a panoply of loathsome expressions. Some of the contrasts to Ben's uncontrolled baser instincts are obvious, but that doesn't mean they don't work: many of the scenes with his family prove genuinely touching, and the moments of him practicing classical music have an oddly calming effect in the midst of all this chaos. It reminded me of the "October 18, 1977" series by Gerhard Richter, in which he showed the full bookcase in Andreas Baader's cell to counter the notion that he was just a thug who manipulated the political ideals of vulnerable youth.
The relationship between Ben and the camera crew shadowing him acts as a central facet of the film; their increased complicity feels inevitable, but you don't really feel Ben's seduction (or maybe I didn't because I didn't like him) so the extent to which they become involved in his crimes strikes one as a bit insensible, much like violence itself. And of course the idea that you contain violence for the digestion and edification of the viewing audience proves laughable; violence spreads out and begets more violence and as things spiral out of control Ben becomes a genuinely sympathetic character, albeit briefly. We know this won't end anywhere good, and while the ending maintains something of the element of surprise, I wondered if it wasn't a bit too obvious and skirted some questions, a rare false step.
The style of the film generally has the jumpy, catch-as-catch-can documentary feel. It was a nice perverse touch that the first shots that feel truly beautiful and composed occur when the crew members are disposing of bodies in a deep canyon.
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