Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.20.15
This one’s brutal.
Writer/directors Jean-Pierre and
Luc Dardenne have uncorked an absorbing splash of cinema verité that is no less
gripping for its low-budget origins: a working-class calamity that feels like
it could happen to a friend, a neighbor ... or even you.
The disturbing script is a sly
update of classic psychological short stories such as Shirley Jackson’s “The
Lottery,” or Richard Matheson’s “Button, Button.” Both explore the
superficiality of morality and personal integrity: the point at which seemingly
good people will cave, their ethics forgotten in the face of temptation, reward
... or fear.
The Belgian Dardenne brothers’ Deux Jours, Une Nuit (Two Days, One Night) revolves around a similarly
ghastly quandary, in this case as it affects the victim.
We meet Sandra (Marion
Cotillard), a working-class Belgian mother, just as she has completed a medical
leave of absence. The cause remains unspecified, but clues point to a nervous
breakdown of some sort; she’s clearly fragile, emotionally shattered. She’s
resting at home, regaining her strength after (perhaps) her first day back at
work on the production floor at Solwal, a small company that manufactures solar
panels.
The phone rings, with grim news
from her co-worker and best friend, Juliette (Catherine Salée). The company
owner, Mr. Dumont (Baptiste Sornin), has decided that things have been almost
as efficient during Sandra’s absence. Wanting to be “fair,” he has put the
matter to a vote among Sandra’s blue-collar colleagues: If they agree to work
harder in her continued — permanent — absence, each will receive a bonus of
1,000 Euros.
In other words, if they vote for
the bonus, Sandra will be fired.
The vote goes 14 to 2, against.
This is the news that Juliette — one of Sandra’s lone supporters — has just
called to share, this late Friday afternoon.
Sandra is frantic; she and her
husband, Manu (Fabrizio Rongione), need their combined incomes to meet mortgage
payments on the home they’ve recently purchased, in a triumphant step up from
public housing. It’s impossible to chart the profusion of emotions that cross
Sandra’s face, as she tries to absorb what has happened, and the implications
behind this catastrophe.
Cotillard earned a well-deserved
Academy Award nomination for this role, and it’s easy to see why; she slips
persuasively into Sandra’s skin. Because of both her performance and the script’s
real-world honesty, we quickly forget that we’re watching a drama; it feels
much more like a documentary. An awful one, at that.
Juliette is indignant for another
reason: She suspects that the vote was tainted by their callous foreman,
Jean-Marc (Olivier Gourmet), who apparently doesn’t like Sandra, and suggested
strongly that if her co-workers didn’t vote for the bonus, one of them might
get terminated instead.
Spurred on by Juliette, Sandra
races back to work and wins a concession from Dumont: He’ll abide by the
results of a second vote — via secret ballot — on Monday morning. If at least
seven other workers are willing to switch their votes, to back her, she can
stay.
And, so, Sandra faces the
prospect of contacting each one during the course of the intervening Saturday
and Sunday, in an attempt to regain her job.
Oh. My. God.
What follows could be considered
14 different mini-dramas, as the weekend progresses: 14 perceptive, even
ingenious, variations on a theme. Assuming Sandra can even work up the courage
to embrace this dreadful trial — by no means a certainty — what will she face?
Will her co-workers be defiant? Angry? Ashamed? Will they even talk to her?
Will implicit friendships wither in the face of 1,000 Euros?
Because, as Sandra tearfully
insists to Manu, she fully understands the dilemma. It’s a lot to ask of people
who probably need the money just as badly, who have bills just like she and her
family do.
Factor in Sandra’s already
fragile state, and the fact that this crisis is making her pop Xanax tablets
like peppermints — which Manu can’t help noticing, in mounting concern — and
the task seems more impossible than Hercules’ 12 labors. We suspect — fear —
that even one rejection will push Sandra over the emotional edge.
And yet we want her to try, not
only because it’s the right thing to do — to fight for her sense of self-worth
— but also because we want honor, principle and human decency to win out.
Rest assured, the Dardennes don’t
make it easy.
Sandra’s subsequent journey of
the soul is both gripping and sickening, intimate and demeaning on a level
that’s supremely uncomfortable: a slow-motion train wreck that we suspect we
shouldn’t witness, but can’t help watching anyway.
The journey doesn’t begin well —
no surprise, there — and we fear that Sandra will surrender to misery and
self-pity before she’s given redemption a fair shot. At lowest ebb, then, with
her expectations thus far shattered, the first glimpse of hope is so unexpected
— such a powerful relief — that we almost cry out in exaltation.
(Actually, I’d be willing to be
that some theater audiences have done just that.)
Fiendishly cunning, those
Dardenne boys. They have us by our throats.
So does Cotillard. The entire
95-minute film is from Sandra’s point of view; no scenes take place without her
being in frame. That’s a lot to ask of any actress, but Cotillard holds our
attention from beginning to end; indeed, her performance is shattering.
Sandra’s shame and humiliation become difficult to endure, but Cotillard doesn’t
quite take her character to the point where we’d loathe her weakness; we never
lose hope that she’ll rally, find the wellspring of strength, become more
defiant.
Cotillard does the bravest thing
possible, for an actor: She often stands, alone and silent, as cinematographer
Alain Marcoen patiently holds on her tired, anguished and often dejected
features. It's not easy to do “nothing” and make it look so compelling; the
Dardennes clearly trust Cotillard, and she rewards their faith.
All of the supporting players
give strong, naturalistic and believable performances. The kind ones radiate
the discomfort we’d expect, under such circumstances, particularly because
Sandra remains so unfailingly polite and sympathetic to the opposing point of
view. There aren’t any villains here — well, maybe one or two — but instead
simply a small knot of people caught in the ultimate awkward situation.
Some of these co-stars have no
prior acting experience, as with Timur Magomedgadzhiev, who is nonetheless
quite memorable as Timur. Christelle Cornil makes an equally strong impression
as Anne, whose sympathies lie with Sandra, but who must contend with a
domineering husband.
Rongione’s Manu is the ultimate
devoted and loyal spouse: just the right blend of cheerleader and concerned
lover.
We wonder, throughout, how this
story will conclude. Sandra surely deserves a victory, given the effort and
agony endured ... but is that consistent, in the real world, with humanity’s
tendency toward selfish behavior? The Dardennes slyly cap their morality tale
with a slight twist that you’ll never see coming ... and yet it’s perfect.
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