Cast: Ben Daniels, Michael Piccoli
Director: Lavinia Currier
Producer: Lavinia Currier
Screenplay: Lavinia Currier based on the novella by Honore de Balzac
Cinematography: Alexei Rodionov
Music: Jose Nieto, Hamza El Din
U.S. Distributor: Fine Line Features
Move over, Dr. Dolittle. Augustin (Ben Daniels), the human protagonist in Passion in the Desert, may not be able to talk with the animals, but there's no doubt that he forms a special bond with one particular leopard. Nevertheless, although the foundation of Passion in the Desert is the man/creature relationship, this movie is not a children's film, nor will Disney be eager to acquire the remake rights. Thematically, it's a deep and occasionally disturbing motion picture that comments not only on the power of nature but on the thinness of humanity's civilized veneer.
Basically, Passion in the Desert is about a man who falls in love with a leopard. (I know it sounds silly, but it's not.) What Augustin feels for the leopard, whom he calls "Simoon," is more significant than the affection that many animal-lovers exhibit for various four-legged creatures. And, in a strange sort of way, Simoon reciprocates. Those worried about bestiality need not be concerned. The subject matter is handled tastefully – Augustin and Simoon do not engage in any sex acts. (Although it should be noted that one particular scene, with Augustin lying prone alongside the leopard, stroking it, could be interpreted as having sexual overtones.)
The best aspect of Passion in the Desert is its depiction of how a man, once severed completely from society and forced to survive in a harsh environment, quickly allows the beast within himself to surface. After Augustin has been stranded alone in the desert for several days, he is no longer the cultured, confident solider he once was. He has become a predator, just like the leopard. In fact, his relationship with Simoon is an indication of how much of a beast he has become.
Throughout the movie, which was written, produced, and directed by Lavinia Currier (Heart of the Garden) based on a novella by Honore de Balzac (whose Cousin Bette is also currently in theaters), the desert is as important a character as Augustin and Simoon. Currier goes to great lengths to make us feel the awesome, implacable power of nature in such a location, where the winds can shift the way the terrain looks overnight, where the heat and lack of water cause mirages, and where the endless plains of sand encourage suicidal despair. The desert in this movie is very much alive – and, if there's an enemy to be identified, this is it.
Passion in the Desert takes place 200 years ago, amidst the shifting sands of the Sahara. Augustin, a captain in Napoleon's army, had been given the charge of escorting the Emperor's favorite artist, Jean-Michel Venture de Paradis (veteran actor Michel Piccoli), on an expedition to draw Egypt's monuments. After Augustin and Venture are separated from the regiment following an attack by nomads, any hopes for a reunion are dashed when a sandstorm blows in. Despite Augustin's assertion that it's impossible to become lost in Egypt ("There's the Nile and there's the sea"), that's exactly what happens. After Venture kills himself and the horses die, a parched Augustin finally finds a watering hole in the ruins of an old city. But the place is guarded by a leopard – the same creature who stalked Augustin during the previous night, its green eyes peering at him balefully in the darkness.
Although the film's greatest asset is its atmosphere and the way Currier uses sights, sound, and music to bring the desert to life, it also packs a surprisingly hard emotional punch. I didn't realize how connected I had become to the story and the characters until the arrival of the inevitable ending (inevitable, because almost the entire movie is presented as an unnarrated flashback, with the chronological conclusion coming in the opening scene). There are times when Passion in the Desert gets a little silly – Augustin's attempts to "dress up" like a leopard come to mind – but, as a whole, the picture is mature and insightful in its outlook.
Ben Daniels (Beautiful Thing), the human actor with the most significant screen time, gives a courageous performance. Daniels' work is all- the-more impressive considering the physical hardships of working on-location in Egypt, Morocco, Namibia, and Tunisia, as well as the danger of having physical contact with a leopard (even trained leopards can pose a danger; Daniels had at least one close call). Michel Piccoli, an international screen icon whose career started in 1956 in Luis Buneul's La Mort en ce Jardin, fashions Venture into something more memorable than a colorful supporting character.
Sociologically, it's easy to see the significance of Passion in the Desert, which paints a stark picture of the inner man as a creature of appetites and instinct, not of reason and intelligence. In fact, for almost half of the movie, as the relationship between Augustin and Simoon is explored, it's fascinating to contrast their actions and approaches. The story serves to refute one of the chief beliefs of the Enlightenment (man always progresses, especially intellectually) while presaging the writings of Darwin. And, while these themes are not as shocking to today's audiences as they would have been to those who read de Balzac's novella in the 1800s, they are no less urgent or compelling. Thus, despite exhibiting some flaws, the atypical Passion in the Desert makes for a worthwhile movie-going experience.
© 1998 James Berardinelli