Review - Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Hey everyone, welcome to what may turn out to be my last topical review in a while due to the whole, ya know, global pandemic we're currently living through. Anyway, if this is where it ends, at least we're ending it on a hell of a high note. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a soaring, queer, French, period, romance. That is a mouthful, I know, but trust me, the film is much easier to swallow than it sounds. The story takes place in the 18th century, when a painter (Marianne) is invited to a secluded island in order to paint a young woman (Héloïse). This painting is going to be sent to a potential suitor of Héloïse's and if he likes it enough, they'll marry. It's a big deal. The problem is, Héloïse doesn't want to marry, so Marianne must paint her in secrecy, pretending to be a companion for walks. This companionship becomes more than just a job though, and eventually, the two women begin to fall for each other. Unlike other recent films like, say, Parasite or Uncut Gems, this isn't a film you're going to struggle to guess the twists and turns of. It had moments, sure, but from my description, you could probably guess where the film ends. It is to the immense credit of the film that this doesn't damage it at all. Perhaps it even benefits it.

It's a chemistry that starts as a spark, catches alight some kindling and all of a sudden, the screen is ablaze.

Talking about the performances of this film are really interesting because of how few performers there are here. There's only four recurring characters, only three of whom are named and even then, this film is most interested in just two of them. Before getting into those two though, I'll give some credit to Luàna Bajrami who plays the housekeeper. She is slightly relegated to the sides of the film but in the moments where the film turns to focus on her, she never lets the side down once. I hadn't seen her in a film before but now I look forward to seeing her in more stuff. Getting down to our two leads though, Noémie Merlant plays Marianne and she's brilliant. Hadn't seen her in anything before this and I'm going to struggle to think of her as anyone other than Marianne because she owns the part. Her chemistry with Adèle Haenel, the actress who plays Héloïse, though is what makes this film as incredible as it is. Alone, the two women are great but they have that spark that all leads do in the greatest romance films. To steal the fire metaphor of the title, it's a chemistry that starts as a spark, catches alight some kindling and all of a sudden, the screen is ablaze. To watch this film is to watch two women fall in love, making the moment you remember they're only performers mind blowing

Two of the uses of music are so overwhelming that they brought me to tears.

What is going to make this film slightly harder to recommend than other films I've loved recently is that this is a very sparse film. That sounds confusing and abstract, so let me explain a bit further. Not much is said during the film, especially in the first half. It is a film of looks, of half looks, of glimpses of a glimpse. Marianne's role is literally to stare at Héloïse and create an image of her, this is the kind of gazey film we're talking about! Even once the romance begins to soar, there is restraint. This is too classy a joint for full on nudity, everyone behind the camera understands that there is a far greater power in what is almost seen than what is just presented. Perhaps the greatest example of the sparsity of this film is how it uses music. There are exactly three scenes in this film that use music. Three! There is no score, all the music is diegetic (within the world of the film) and that makes each use of music overwhelming, two of the uses so overwhelming that they brought me to tears. Were there a full blown score to this, those moments wouldn't mean as much. They're still special by design but because of the sparsity surrounding them, these scenes are wrung for all the power they can muster. Céline Sciamma has proven she can utilise music to extraordinary effect before with the "Diamonds" scene in Girlhood but somehow, this is on a whole other level. Also, the film looks exceptional. Clearly by design, this film looks like a painting and I had a couple of moments where I muttered "Oh, wow" under my breath at shots. I have mentioned the cinematography so late for a reason though, as it's a handy dandy transition into my final point!

Céline Sciamma, the director and writer of this film, has said that she wanted this film to be a manifesto on the female gaze in cinema. If you don't know the whole debate about the male gaze versus the female gaze adequately, I simply don't have time to explain it to you, there are whole film classes taught on this. A quick google of Laura Mulvey will bring up a great essay you can read on the matter if you really want to. Anyway, the point is, film is a historically male medium and Sciamma is making a concerted effort to queer that maleness, to make it female. What that does to the first ten minutes of the film is it kind of makes it hard work. I've compared it in discussion to when I look at art in an art gallery. When I look at art, I often have to readjust my eyes, because I spend so much time watching films instead of understanding art. Once that adjustment has occurred, I can learn something new, appreciate something different, but adjustment is required. The first ten minutes of this film are almost literally that. It's an art class, in which students are taught how to look, a subtle set of tools passed to the audience to help them understand this film. Perhaps that initial distance is my one gripe with this film, as it really did take me time to get over that bump, but I see how it was such a deliberate move and I would not want the film without it. It's a move that allows access to this new world of looking and makes this "film as manifesto" feel far less insufferable than that may sound.

If you're a hopeless romantic who can tolerate subtitles, I think you'd struggle not to fall for this film.

This film is fantastic. It is not for everyone but if you're a hopeless romantic who can tolerate subtitles, I think you'd struggle not to fall for this film. It looks gorgeous, it is beautifully performed and it has a level of craft that few films these days can match. Truly, the only word that applies is swooning. If you can make it out to the cinema, check it out, but it's worth the wait for when it comes out on rental. I am very happy to give Portrait of a Lady on Fire a

Don't forget to stay safe out there sweeites, even if you aren't worried about catching this virus then at least be worried on the part of those you love who are vulnerable.