Nobody Else but You (2011)
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Part sexual fantasy, part hardboiled detective story, part Twin Peaks surrealism, part Norwegian humor, and part sweet hometown romance.
No way? Yes way. Here's roughly how the director and writer Gerald Hustache-Mathieu pulled it off. First is the seemingly main story: a scruffy detective writer of few words is in this snowy village on the Swiss border called Mouth (it really exists) to collect his part of an inheritance, which turns out to be a stuffed dog. You think you're in for a bizarre and dry comedy. But he learns as he leaves town that the young female star of the village was found dead in the fields, officially a suicide. He sticks around to learn more, doubts grow, and he begins to play real world detective.
However, the opening scene before even this is a bright, dreamy sequence of a sexualized blonde woman talking to us in voice-over. We have no idea what's going on yet, but the sensual aspects clash with the reality of the rest. Yet the two worlds are the same, of course--the woman is the dead woman, and we see what is going on through her eyes, both as a corpse and in flashbacks. The flashbacks themselves are triggered by entries in a series of diaries left behind. And the story sweeps in a whole assortment of the local townspeople, many of them quirky types themselves (this is the David Lynchian part).
Then on top of this is a gradual realization that not only did the woman look like Marilyn Monroe (at least when she goes bright blonde) but she has many parallels to the icon's actual life. The detective begins to think this is more than coincidence, and while falling in love with the memory of this woman he never met, he uncovers more and more of the startling story of her sad life.
So, besides the director we have to completely admire the performances of the two leads--the detective played by Jean-Paul Rouve and the young woman played by Sophie Quinton. They are opposites in many ways, but both are a little bit famous and a little bit outcast, too. In the flashbacks and in the current story the two meet the same range of people, so we come to see the context with full complexity. And for those familiar with Monroe's life and lovers (purported and otherwise) the parallels only grow in fascination.
It's filmed with terrific energy, from fluid gorgeous camera-work to hand-held kinetic stuff with fast edits, including perky cuts to show faces and highly magnified closeups. (The most memorable of these is the view of the red shiny lips of Quinton as she sings "Poupoupidou" which is the original French title to the movie.) This is all lovely and hilarious and oddly sad, too. An inventive, terrific movie that manages to speed through a few weak points and make little of a contrivance or two, piling on a wonderful soundtrack, and keeping you on your toes from start to finish.
See this!
See this!
Part sexual fantasy, part hardboiled detective story, part Twin Peaks surrealism, part Norwegian humor, and part sweet hometown romance.
No way? Yes way. Here's roughly how the director and writer Gerald Hustache-Mathieu pulled it off. First is the seemingly main story: a scruffy detective writer of few words is in this snowy village on the Swiss border called Mouth (it really exists) to collect his part of an inheritance, which turns out to be a stuffed dog. You think you're in for a bizarre and dry comedy. But he learns as he leaves town that the young female star of the village was found dead in the fields, officially a suicide. He sticks around to learn more, doubts grow, and he begins to play real world detective.
However, the opening scene before even this is a bright, dreamy sequence of a sexualized blonde woman talking to us in voice-over. We have no idea what's going on yet, but the sensual aspects clash with the reality of the rest. Yet the two worlds are the same, of course--the woman is the dead woman, and we see what is going on through her eyes, both as a corpse and in flashbacks. The flashbacks themselves are triggered by entries in a series of diaries left behind. And the story sweeps in a whole assortment of the local townspeople, many of them quirky types themselves (this is the David Lynchian part).
Then on top of this is a gradual realization that not only did the woman look like Marilyn Monroe (at least when she goes bright blonde) but she has many parallels to the icon's actual life. The detective begins to think this is more than coincidence, and while falling in love with the memory of this woman he never met, he uncovers more and more of the startling story of her sad life.
So, besides the director we have to completely admire the performances of the two leads--the detective played by Jean-Paul Rouve and the young woman played by Sophie Quinton. They are opposites in many ways, but both are a little bit famous and a little bit outcast, too. In the flashbacks and in the current story the two meet the same range of people, so we come to see the context with full complexity. And for those familiar with Monroe's life and lovers (purported and otherwise) the parallels only grow in fascination.
It's filmed with terrific energy, from fluid gorgeous camera-work to hand-held kinetic stuff with fast edits, including perky cuts to show faces and highly magnified closeups. (The most memorable of these is the view of the red shiny lips of Quinton as she sings "Poupoupidou" which is the original French title to the movie.) This is all lovely and hilarious and oddly sad, too. An inventive, terrific movie that manages to speed through a few weak points and make little of a contrivance or two, piling on a wonderful soundtrack, and keeping you on your toes from start to finish.
See this!