The
"POLA" in Pola X is acronymic for the French title of
Herman Melville's book "Pierre, or, the Ambiguities",
while the "X" represents director Leos Carax's decision
to shoot the tenth draft of the screenplay he adapted
with Lauren Sedofsky and Jean-Pol Fargeau. But on these
shores, where commerce inhibits cinema, the "X" can also
symbolize the graphic depiction of an affair between the
main characters. And the physical nature of this central
relationship is one of the few developments we can
confirm with every confidence by film's end, not that
that matters.
Guillaume Depardieu
(Gerard's
slimmer son) stars as affluent Pierre, a diplomat's son
who recently published a Douglas Coupland-esque text
("Into the Light") under an assumed name and spends
countless days putting around the Normandy countryside
on his motorcycle. But when he meets Isabelle (Katerina
Golubeva), a homeless, Slavic refugee alleging blood
ties, he gives up his attachments - the affectionate
mother (Catherine Deneuve), the impossibly beautiful
fiancée (Delphine Chuillot), the mansion - to support
her.
It's not just an act of familial guilt on
his part; he looks on taking to the streets with the
half-sister time forgot as a lightning rod for artistic
inspiration, the opposite of selling out. He'll finally
get to be the angry young man he posed as in his first
novel. The film has an older soul: "This need to spit
the world's sinister truth in its face is as old as the
world itself," Pierre's publisher advises. "You dream of
writing a mature work, but your charm lies in your
thorough immaturity."
Pierre and Isabelle rent
space in a musician's loft, where they eventually have
sex. It's a taboo and explicit moment, yet logical, the
latest act of penetration for these two. The scene is
gratifying for the least obvious of reasons: in
close-up, we've seen the most private moment a couple
can have, thus bringing an earnestness to the
circumstances that threaten their bond later in the
picture. It also both echoes and consummates the
incestuous encounters we've seen Pierre have with his
mother.
The grand meaning of this motif and
others (testing out makeshift doors, auto accidents), to
say nothing of the war montage that opens the film, is
European-obscure. The plotting is best taken on faith.
What Carax has achieved, which will be pooh-poohed on by
traditionalists, is a tableau of almost pure sensation.
Right from the start, with little context save Scott
Walker's dirge overture, we're in Pierre's world. I'm
referring to a bright, languorous shot of his estate
grounds, wherein the verdant field and misty air seem
tangible, there. We want to smooth the brick walls of
his manor, walls that have inherent history. Most of
all, we're ready to sob, and damned if I know why. Pola X is a pretentious film of and about
secrets, but it's emotionally generous. So there.
Perhaps my reaction to
Pola X would
differ had I not been treated to Winstar's stunning DVD
presentation. Although the 1.85:1, 16x9-enhanced image
strobes ever so slightly, the way PAL-to-NTSC video
conversions do, it couldn't look better in all other
respects. Aside: the first time Depardieu and Golubeva
converse, a sequence that takes place at night in the
woods, it's difficult to see anything; I later deduced
that this was to shroud Isabelle in mystery, an
ingenious decision that prevents appearances from
influencing our initial impression of her.
The
Dolby Digital 5.1 mix (labeled "stereo") is not quite as
memorable; surround usage is confined to music clubs and
things like that, though Pierre's riding produces a
considerable rumble in the subwoofer. Bonus offerings:
near-silent commentary by giggle-prone, generally
unconstructive Depardieu; an unusual segment featuring
finished footage interspersed with outtakes of Walker
conducting his orchestra (and set to his score);
optional subtitles; Pola X's (sad) theatrical
trailer; cast/crew filmographies plus DVD production
credits; and a Winstar weblink.
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