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Rating:
First and foremost, in this story as timely as ever, which thrives on the anxieties and frenzies of our days, stands out Her, Anais Dumostier (Alice), with a performance of great personality and elegance; a strong, feminine figure, with a vast humanist culture, adorned with degrees and specializations in Political Science, Philosophy, and International Law, a Wonder Woman at the service of politics with the aim of revitalizing and innovating Paul’s political action, (a Fabrice Luchini in a state of grace, a wonderful and neurotic part), master of the Res Publica in Lyon and mayor for two terms, but lately fallen into a state of regression that prevents him from being the fulcrum of Lyon’s social life as he once was.
In Paul, in his memories, in his media interviews, the past and great seasons of French politics, of Gaullism, also live on, but all under a severe and nostalgic lens, observed from our times and rhythms, which have turned the individualistic and successful mayor into an awkward stand-in manipulated by his party, which has become (after...shall we say the Le Pen government?) a full-fledged public company, which of welfare and the social state has only the Sign and slogans repeated the week before the election campaign.
Anais, who in her feminine growth has developed an elevated Duende, besides being a stunning sight (minute 47 of the film, after a first half of meetings and conferences with postal-market outfits, she takes flight like a Heron with a dark blue tailleur and 12 cm heels at the congress where Paul presents an urbanization project, of which I frankly remember not a thing), is the inspiring and cerebral muse of the mayor (with almost total absence of any carnal reference between the two; separated by a generation), capable, if not of making him relive his past glories, at least of reminding him of the periods of passion, youth, political activism, thus Paul’s life lights up with a new color and newfound enthusiasm, even if ephemeral.
And now, after playing around, we enter the heart of the action, Action!
So, according to you, is this Paul’s existential crisis, or is he, even if some years younger, simply like many others dethroned by the speed of our time, the frenetic rhythm (well...okay...not yours...and we get it) of our days, the constant presence now also extended to the media and social tam-tam that has monopolized our space-time balance? But the thinking heads in Paul’s entourage, who at some point want to push him ever higher, towards the Zenith of the Elysee and pair him with the splendid Anais to revive his Youth, have they perhaps ever thought that the problem is not in his head but in theirs? Could it perhaps be the problem of a system that has recently short-circuited, where every high thought, let’s say Complex, is erased by the turn’s slogan and tweet, by that maniacal loop transferred like a true virus (this indeed and no one talks about it) from the teen world even to the high spheres and cathedrals of politics, immobilizing everything and bending every initiative, action, reform to its now universal authority.
This is not said by Pariser, (...that would be the director), at least openly, except through metaphors and allusions, because in the neorealistic representation of reality, everything in the film spins at full speed like in the dance of every day, everything is a mechanical ballet of bureaucracy, dialogue and lit tweets without subtitles, reality has been lost from view, the same actions of Paul and Anais are not events but reports of their happenings during the day (mmm, Parisier this however is a blatant déjà vu in the last 2 films of Assayas and also Bedos makes it a film in Belle Epoque, well they are French).
Furthermore, and this, the great manipulators know very well and have made it their most lethal arsenal against the ununited and distant people; the social network and the digital one bring deception, but not like in the past, also suspicion, but the benevolence of a belief spread at multiple levels, with reality surpassed by virtual beliefs and misbeliefs and by information galloping on information.
The slogan reigns supreme, assertion prevails over realization, decibels have suffocated reflection and the contents of politics, the verb is a speculative tool that stagnates on the surface of the planet, pure self-referential and sterile exercise.
There is only space for a complacent and Dorotean thought or on the other hemisphere for fierce criticism and the game of the opposite, confrontation is extinct and in exodus.
Has this disease attacked other banks and other spheres, even playful and of our time? How many of us are vaccinated....
And what would be the role of the politician and politics, in this pandemonium?
I would have no doubts and I wouldn’t worry too much, I would be hopelessly in love with Anais and would run away with her to a deserted island.
And perhaps, if I don’t exceed in visionary thinking, that sea, that sky, and those palms, can perhaps be glimpsed at the end of the film on Paul’s face reflecting in his pupils and framed by his elegiac visage carved by the wind of society.
If anyone really needs to comment, as always no stars, few questions, indeed none, concise and possibly no polemics, as responses are only given to Ludovica. Ah...wash your hands well.
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