"Attack of the Clones" is an apt title for just about any
American-made movie these days, as imitation has become the
modern plague in Hollywood.
But not so with foreign-language films, which are still
more interested in the interactions and societal problems of
humans than with computer-generated aliens with amped-up,
digitally recorded voices.
A good case in point is "Time Out" ("L'Emploi du Temps"),
the provocative second film by Laurent Cantet, who made such
an impressive debut in 1999 with "Human Resources"
("Ressources Humaines"). On the basis of these two movies, the
young French filmmaker has carved out an unusual niche for
himself, seemingly specializing in movies about the importance
of the workplace in our lives and how professional
accomplishments can often dictate and define the relationships
between fathers and sons.
In "Human Resources," a young man -- the first in his
family to graduate from college -- is hired by the factory
where his dad has worked all his life. One of his first
assignments is to participate in the company's downsizing
efforts, which means firing his own father.
"Time Out" looks at corporate downsizing from another
angle, this time focusing on a more direct victim of it -- a
middle-aged man who suddenly loses his job and whose identity
is all knotted up in the acceptance and respect that his work
has always commanded from his family and friends, especially
from his distant father.
The protagonist here, Vincent (played by French stage actor
Aur¨¦lien Recoing in his first major film role), was a
middle-management consultant who handles this crucial loss in
his life by pretending that it never happened. He doesn't tell
his wife, Muriel (Karin Viard), but instead gets up every
morning, gets dressed in his business uniform -- suit and tie
-- and goes through the motions of leaving for work. Vincent
and Muriel live with their two children in a small French
suburb not far from the Swiss Alps.
When we're introduced to Vincent in the film's first scene,
he's asleep in his car. Then we see him driving idly, going
nowhere in particular, making periodic calls by cell phone to
Muriel to fill her in on his day, discussing his tough
negotiations and business decisions. It slowly becomes clear
that Vincent has been going through this sham for quite a
while.
These opening moments detail the first of many lies Vincent
will tell throughout "Time Out," as he complains about
"clients" who don't really exist and business lunches he never
has. In one sequence, he drives to Geneva and manages to get
past the security guard and into an office building that
houses some management company doing consulting work in Africa
for the United Nations. You could get the impression that
Vincent is there for an interview, but instead he eavesdrops
on professional conversations and rifles through the company's
brochures, absorbing information about the alleged new
position he's been offered, info he can pass on to Muriel the
next time they talk.
Cantet got the idea for his movie from a fact-based tabloid
story that ended in murder and attempted suicide in real life.
Unlike another filmmaker who might have exploited the more
sordid aspects of the case, Cantet deletes the violence and
instead addresses the psychological unraveling of a man who
loses himself when he loses his job.
The filmmaker also adds the compelling aside of never
having Vincent bother to look for another job -- to actually
go to an interview. He probably could find employment if he
wanted to, but, rather, Vincent goes to the elaborate ploy of
fabricating a job.
Although Vincent feels abandoned without his work, he is
also somehow liberated by the loss. At first, he's
immobilized, but as he starts to tell lies to Muriel about
certain Third World projects he's working on, his imagination
runs away from him. Soon he is away from home for days at a
time on "business trips." He doesn't stay in hotels, but
sleeps in his car in the parking lots of hotels. With no
source of income, he starts pitching his old college chums,
friends and even his father with investment schemes, involving
bogus Russian securities, successfully defrauding money from
them.
The ironic thing is that Vincent's father is impressed --
finally.
Although he is nondescript with his requisite
middle-management look, Vincent attracts the eye of a
small-time smuggler named Jean-Michel (Serge Livrozet) while
loitering in a hotel lobby. Jean-Michel overhears Vincent
trying to swindle yet another friend. He knows a phony when he
spots one but likes Vincent's calm, low-key daring. He offers
him a job, which Vincent takes because it's a way to pay back
his friends.
¡¡
Cantet makes the subversive point that Vincent is able to
pull off this virtuoso duplicity because, as a manager, he was
trained to essentially do nothing except manage other people.
Instead of employees, he now "manages" his wife, his parents,
his kids and his friends.
The film is darkly funny in its observation of just how
much more grueling and time-consuming the illusion of work is
than actual work. In one near-surreal sequence, Muriel wants
to see the apartment where Vincent stays when he's away on
business, and Vincent takes her to an abandoned -- but cozy --
snowbound cabin in the Alps. Trudging through the snow, he's
separated from her and you sense not only his panic but also
his relief.
"Did you think you lost me?" Muriel asks when Vincent finds
her.
As in "Human Resources," except for his lead roles, Cantet
uses mostly nonprofessional actors. His only experienced
players are the formidable Recoing (who's like a Gallic Kevin
Spacey) and the Cesar award-winning Viard. By surrounding them
with real people, the filmmaker brings a candid quality and a
sense of urgency to his storytelling.
Nope, there's no need for special effects here.
From www.movieclub.com
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