Cast: Juliette Binoche, Daniel Auteuil, Emir Kusturica, Michel Duchaussoy, Philippe Magnan, Christian Charmetant
Director: Patrice Leconte
Producers: Frédéric Brillion, Gilles Legrand
Screenplay: Claude Faraldo
Cinematography: Eduardo Serra
Music: Pascal Estève
U.S. Distributor: Lions Gate Films
In French with subtitles
With 2001 getting off to such an unpromising start in this country, maybe it's time to start looking elsewhere for quality cinematic productions. So, heading across the Atlantic to the French film industry, we find the latest effort from director Patrice Leconte, whose previous film, The Girl on the Bridge (a black-and-white romantic comedy about a knife-thrower who falls in love with his target), delighted audiences across the globe. This time around, Leconte has opted for a costume drama with a distinct anti-death penalty flavor. As one would expect from an accomplished director, the intent is not to preach (always a bad way to get across a message), but to demonstrate by example. The Widow of Saint-Pierre asks two complex questions: what does it take to redeem a murderer and which path should an individual choose when morality conflicts with the law?
To play out this tale, which transpires during the 1850s in the French territory of Saint-Pierre, an island off the coast of Newfoundland, Leconte has brought together two of his country's best-known actors. Juliette Binoche plays Madame La and Daniel Auteuil is her husband, the captain in charge of the French military stationed on the island. The third player in the drama is Neel Auguste (Yugoslavian director Emir Kusturica in his acting debut), a convicted killer. The court sentences Neel to death for his act, but there's a problem. French law demands execution by guillotine, and there isn't one on the island, nor is there an executioner. So, while the islanders of Saint-Pierre await the arrival of the instrument from Martinique (a several month delay), Neel is allowed a degree of freedom by the Captain and Madame La. A series of good deeds on his part make him a beloved member of the community, and, when the guillotine eventually arrives, no one is willing to wield it. Meanwhile, the Captain, having decided that it would be unjust to execute Neel given his reformed character, informs the local government that his troops will not aid in the beheading -- a stance that places him in a dangerous, possibly treasonous position.
The acting, as one might reasonably expect with two such accomplished leads, is one of the film's strengths. Juliette Binoche reminds us once again of why she is an Oscar-caliber actress (something she did not display throughout her nominated performance in Chocolat). Binoche brings great passion to the role of a woman who sees not only a cause, but the man behind the cause. Daniel Auteuil, arguably France's second-best known male actor (behind only Gerard Depardieu), is appearing in his second-straight Leconte film (he was the male lead in The Girl on the Bridge). Finally, Emir Kusturica, the famed Yugoslavian filmmaker (whose last movie was the offbeat and critically-acclaimed Black Cat, White Cat) gives the kind of finely-tuned effort one might anticipate from a seasoned veteran, not a man making his first significant foray in front of the camera.
With The Widow of Saint-Pierre, Leconte has crafted a compelling melodrama. It's an occasionally powerful and often thought provoking period piece that is characterized by strong acting and an effective visual style. By using blue filters that mute the intensity of bright colors, Leconte gives his film a stark, wintry feel. Saint-Pierre is represented as a cold, isolated place, far removed from France and French justice. With his superiors so far away, the Captain feels compelled to act in accordance with his conscience rather than to follow his orders. Which is the more honorable course?
Of course, Leconte's point is that not all criminals are beyond rehabilitation and redemption. Neel commits a brutal, senseless crime, but his actions afterward prove that his transformation is one of the heart and soul. In truth, he believes that he deserves his sentence, and is unwilling to put others at risk to flee from it. The Widow of Saint-Pierre points out one of the key flaws inherent in the death penalty - the possibility that a man's nature can be re-shaped.
If there's a flaw in the film, it's Leconte's cool, detached perspective of the characters, which dissuades emotional involvement. It's as if the starkness of the film's setting has seeped into the heart of the production. In many ways, The Widow of Saint-Pierre reminded me of the classic The Return of Martin Guerre, although this film is not as effective or as accomplished. The movies, however, have similar agendas and the best scenes in The Widow of Saint-Pierre evidence the same kind of quiet power that is apparent throughout the whole of Martin Guerre. Leconte's latest film will not be remembered alongside his masterworks, but it is nevertheless a worthy effort.
© 2001 James Berardinelli