QCinema 2019: Nadav Lapid's Synonymes
(Note: The recently-concluded QCinema International Film Festival (Oct. 13-22) boasted a truly marvelous line-up of international films. Of those, I was able to watch 22 films in a span of 8 days. "Synonymes", fortunately, was one of those films.)
There is a scene in "Synonymes" (Synonyms, 2019, France/Israel), the third feature film of Israeli auteur Nadav Lapid, where the Israeli-born but French-wannabe Yoav, in close-up while directly looking at the camera, recites a litany of negative adjectives directed against his native country, in which he finds more than one reason to denounce it. His recently-met companion Emile, a natural-born French, chides him that it is a lot of words to describe his country, so that he only has to choose one. If the scene sounds kooky, it's because it is. In fact, we might just as well describe the entire film as such.
Maddening and enlightening in equal measure, "Synonymes" is most likely unlike any other film that you will get to see this year (well, I can probably mention Filho's and Dornelles' "Bacurau", which should merit another write-up). It is hard to pin any definite label on the film. Granted that you are already familiar with Lapid through his previous works "Policeman" and "The Kindergarten Teacher", but these films won't really prepare you for the uncategorizable brilliance of his third feature. There are films that are best viewed without preconceptions or prior knowledge, by going in "blind" so to speak. Well, with "Synonymes", it does not matter at all whether you knew something or nothing about the film before seeing it (in my case, I only read beforehand one critic's review and an interview with the lead actor). For I believe such materials cannot capture in any way what your experience will be once you get to watch "Synonymes".
Sure to polarize its audience, some may dismiss the film as a disjointed indulgence, while others may be won over by its fearless cinematic feat. Those who are inclined towards the former thinking may be oblivious of the gems that are hidden in plain sight. Sounds high-brow, but if one is seriously into film appreciation and arthouse cinema, then an effort must be made in mining the rich layers of meaning to be found in "Synonymes" or in any good work of cinema for that matter. This forms a considerable part of cinema as a means to self-education.
Back in the 1940s and 1950s (and perhaps, even in the 1960s), taking aim at the concepts of masculinity and nationalism may be a "forbidden" thing to do in films. However, in the recent politically-correct and neo-liberal times (or so we believe), we can practically deconstruct anything and everything, from religion and politics, to gender and sexuality. Yoav may be one of the most ebullient, unpredictable, and confrontational characters that you'll get to see onscreen, but one realizes that with every word and action he is really chipping off his identity and nation, both the one that he is trying to leave and the one that he is trying to be assimilated into. Do not be misled by the film's seemingly non-sequitur structure, for with each scene (all the time, I can only gasp "Wow!") we witness a filmmaker (who has already won me over since his first two features) throwing a Molotov at both Israel and France: the countries' concepts of stereotypes and identity, machismo and militarism, assimilation and exclusion, nationalistic fervor and persecution mania.
I do not pretend to fully know what it means to be French and Israeli. All that comes my way is most probably indirect or secondhand (through cinema, books, news, or friends of the said nationalities who are working here in the country), but it certainly adds depth to the appreciation and enjoyment of "Synonymes". It may not even come as a surprise to learn that the film is semi-autobiographical, reflecting the director's own efforts to become France's adopted child. Scene after scene, it feels like we are watching something that can qualify as a movie of its own. But there is one particular scene that displays sharp irony and sardonic humor in such a way that impresses more than what one might expect.
In that scene, a fully-naked Yoav is being vigorously objectified by a photographer (to whom he has volunteered to pose without clothes as a part-time source of income) - in effect, by someone whose very nationality he wishes to integrate into himself. At one point, the photographer commands him, much against his will, to blurt out words in his native tongue, Hebrew. And all that Yoav, lying in all his naked glory on the floor in a self-gratifying pose, can repeatedly mutter is a word referring to the male sex organ, as if he in turn makes a mockery of his natural-born language. It is a superb and funny setpiece, one that turns machismo and national identity on their heads. It may even amount to "rape", in the literal and figurative sense. We can probably write a whole book if we begin to have a detailed analysis of each of the scenes in "Synonymes"!
In his debut feature film, the 26-year-old Tom Mercier, in effect serving as the director's alter-ego, throws himself completely to the lead role. It is like in essaying his character, Lapid gave him a box of matches and a container full of gas, in order for him to set himself on wild fire. And sure he does! For sheer audaciousness and physicality, it is a role that demands more from the right actor who is about to play it. At this point, it is actually hard to imagine any other actor (whether novice or with experience) who meets the demands head on than Mercier. This year's QCinema was marked by indelible performances by actors in their introductory feature film lead roles: Remzi Bilyalov in "Homeward", Levan Gelbakhiani in "And Then We Danced", Helena Zengel in "System Crasher" - and upping the ante is Mercier in "Synonymes". Yoav's orange-yellow overcoat may define his character to a certain extent, but what may really set him free from the labels and descriptions that follow from the assignment of a nationality (whether natural-born or naturalized) is when he sheds off those clothes and bares himself in full glory.
"Nasty, obscene, ignorant, abominable, lamentable, detestable, idiotic, mean-spirited..." Didn't I mention earlier the scene in which Yoav spews out a litany of negatives against his birth-country? Those are the reasons why he left Israel, says the young man. Interestingly, those are the words - synonymous in nature, dictionary-wise - that the obvious targets of the film might throw against it. Mercier himself mentions in an interview that, a few days after the film won the Golden Bear in Berlin, a man in a bar in Tel Aviv approached him and branded him a "leftist" (even if that person had not seen the film yet). But for this incurable film junkie, "Synonymes" provides a whole new level of film experience in the best possible way. And I may just as well voice out a string of positive synonymous adjectives for the film, with dictionary in hand.
There is a scene in "Synonymes" (Synonyms, 2019, France/Israel), the third feature film of Israeli auteur Nadav Lapid, where the Israeli-born but French-wannabe Yoav, in close-up while directly looking at the camera, recites a litany of negative adjectives directed against his native country, in which he finds more than one reason to denounce it. His recently-met companion Emile, a natural-born French, chides him that it is a lot of words to describe his country, so that he only has to choose one. If the scene sounds kooky, it's because it is. In fact, we might just as well describe the entire film as such.
Maddening and enlightening in equal measure, "Synonymes" is most likely unlike any other film that you will get to see this year (well, I can probably mention Filho's and Dornelles' "Bacurau", which should merit another write-up). It is hard to pin any definite label on the film. Granted that you are already familiar with Lapid through his previous works "Policeman" and "The Kindergarten Teacher", but these films won't really prepare you for the uncategorizable brilliance of his third feature. There are films that are best viewed without preconceptions or prior knowledge, by going in "blind" so to speak. Well, with "Synonymes", it does not matter at all whether you knew something or nothing about the film before seeing it (in my case, I only read beforehand one critic's review and an interview with the lead actor). For I believe such materials cannot capture in any way what your experience will be once you get to watch "Synonymes".
Sure to polarize its audience, some may dismiss the film as a disjointed indulgence, while others may be won over by its fearless cinematic feat. Those who are inclined towards the former thinking may be oblivious of the gems that are hidden in plain sight. Sounds high-brow, but if one is seriously into film appreciation and arthouse cinema, then an effort must be made in mining the rich layers of meaning to be found in "Synonymes" or in any good work of cinema for that matter. This forms a considerable part of cinema as a means to self-education.
Back in the 1940s and 1950s (and perhaps, even in the 1960s), taking aim at the concepts of masculinity and nationalism may be a "forbidden" thing to do in films. However, in the recent politically-correct and neo-liberal times (or so we believe), we can practically deconstruct anything and everything, from religion and politics, to gender and sexuality. Yoav may be one of the most ebullient, unpredictable, and confrontational characters that you'll get to see onscreen, but one realizes that with every word and action he is really chipping off his identity and nation, both the one that he is trying to leave and the one that he is trying to be assimilated into. Do not be misled by the film's seemingly non-sequitur structure, for with each scene (all the time, I can only gasp "Wow!") we witness a filmmaker (who has already won me over since his first two features) throwing a Molotov at both Israel and France: the countries' concepts of stereotypes and identity, machismo and militarism, assimilation and exclusion, nationalistic fervor and persecution mania.
I do not pretend to fully know what it means to be French and Israeli. All that comes my way is most probably indirect or secondhand (through cinema, books, news, or friends of the said nationalities who are working here in the country), but it certainly adds depth to the appreciation and enjoyment of "Synonymes". It may not even come as a surprise to learn that the film is semi-autobiographical, reflecting the director's own efforts to become France's adopted child. Scene after scene, it feels like we are watching something that can qualify as a movie of its own. But there is one particular scene that displays sharp irony and sardonic humor in such a way that impresses more than what one might expect.
In that scene, a fully-naked Yoav is being vigorously objectified by a photographer (to whom he has volunteered to pose without clothes as a part-time source of income) - in effect, by someone whose very nationality he wishes to integrate into himself. At one point, the photographer commands him, much against his will, to blurt out words in his native tongue, Hebrew. And all that Yoav, lying in all his naked glory on the floor in a self-gratifying pose, can repeatedly mutter is a word referring to the male sex organ, as if he in turn makes a mockery of his natural-born language. It is a superb and funny setpiece, one that turns machismo and national identity on their heads. It may even amount to "rape", in the literal and figurative sense. We can probably write a whole book if we begin to have a detailed analysis of each of the scenes in "Synonymes"!
In his debut feature film, the 26-year-old Tom Mercier, in effect serving as the director's alter-ego, throws himself completely to the lead role. It is like in essaying his character, Lapid gave him a box of matches and a container full of gas, in order for him to set himself on wild fire. And sure he does! For sheer audaciousness and physicality, it is a role that demands more from the right actor who is about to play it. At this point, it is actually hard to imagine any other actor (whether novice or with experience) who meets the demands head on than Mercier. This year's QCinema was marked by indelible performances by actors in their introductory feature film lead roles: Remzi Bilyalov in "Homeward", Levan Gelbakhiani in "And Then We Danced", Helena Zengel in "System Crasher" - and upping the ante is Mercier in "Synonymes". Yoav's orange-yellow overcoat may define his character to a certain extent, but what may really set him free from the labels and descriptions that follow from the assignment of a nationality (whether natural-born or naturalized) is when he sheds off those clothes and bares himself in full glory.
"Nasty, obscene, ignorant, abominable, lamentable, detestable, idiotic, mean-spirited..." Didn't I mention earlier the scene in which Yoav spews out a litany of negatives against his birth-country? Those are the reasons why he left Israel, says the young man. Interestingly, those are the words - synonymous in nature, dictionary-wise - that the obvious targets of the film might throw against it. Mercier himself mentions in an interview that, a few days after the film won the Golden Bear in Berlin, a man in a bar in Tel Aviv approached him and branded him a "leftist" (even if that person had not seen the film yet). But for this incurable film junkie, "Synonymes" provides a whole new level of film experience in the best possible way. And I may just as well voice out a string of positive synonymous adjectives for the film, with dictionary in hand.
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