Black-haired, big-eyed, lithe-limbed, soft-spoken and kind at heart: Chantal is all a world-weary road warrior might be looking for and more. Pardon my agitation, but I just fell totally in love with Fanny Mallette, the French-Canadian actress who plays Chantal, the night-shift receptionist at the roadside hotel that is the quiet center of "Continental". But worry not: she is only one of many attractions in this melancholic movie. Outrageously sad and strange as the events we witness may seem, in total they ring surprisingly true and closely resemble that greatest miracle of all: so-called real life. There is very little dialog, but you don't really miss it. Rookie director Stéphane Lafleur is so good at setting the mood with lights, camera, and action that his script works almost without words. I keep wondering though whether the eerie sound that marks both the beginning and the end of this episodic film is a ring tone imitating a night owl, or a night owl imitating a ring tone.
6 Reviews
Minimalist
RNQ26 April 2008
"Continental--un film sans fusil" has a character who's a night clerk in a exurban highway motor-hotel. "Do you get bored", she's asked. "I like it quiet." And similarly in this film of hotel rooms, houses, kitchens, teeth, dances, buses, things are tidy, it's "nice," even when there's a risk of being a bit wild. The police have nothing to report, don't call. What do you do when a baby is being goo-gooed and it starts to cry? When a bed is thumping in the next room? Everybody's getting older, and at the end of the subdivisions, where the bus line ends, there are woods.
The story, the widescreen framing by Sara Mishara, the dialogue maintain the aesthetic of reduction. Is this a Canadian aesthetic? Look up a painting from English Canada by Alex Colville called "Pacific," where there *is* a gun on a table, and also a ruler.
I can't by the way see the "sibling connections" someone else claims. There's one couple together, another that phones, a third that may get together again, some who may need life insurance, and people who go out to practice the Continental.
This is a perfect movie for what it is.
The story, the widescreen framing by Sara Mishara, the dialogue maintain the aesthetic of reduction. Is this a Canadian aesthetic? Look up a painting from English Canada by Alex Colville called "Pacific," where there *is* a gun on a table, and also a ruler.
I can't by the way see the "sibling connections" someone else claims. There's one couple together, another that phones, a third that may get together again, some who may need life insurance, and people who go out to practice the Continental.
This is a perfect movie for what it is.
A Short Analysis
benoit-329 December 2009
Warning: Spoilers
The subtitle ("a film without guns") is the only "polemic" part of the film. The director asks us to imagine what cinema would be like without the recurrent themes of mainstream American (i.e. U.S.) cinema: guns, sadistic violence, bloodshed, crime, hired killers, adolescent revenge fantasies, car crashes and superheroes in long underwear. Would films actually talk about human interactions? The "Continental" of the title refers to a ballroom dance that is designed to bring people together. Which dance isn't, come to think of it?
The film starts with a series of disjointed scenes showing individual lonely characters that may or may not encounter each other later on. This jangled exposition is initially difficult to watch. The unidentified characters barely inhabit their own scenes, whether they are photographed at odd angles or in dim lighting or simply leave the frame, sometimes not returning at all. The sense of discomfort and disorientation that this creates in the spectator is not exactly new in Quebec cinema. The long, silent, embarrassingly sustained, off-balance, naturally-lit and seemingly meaningless take has been a staple of local films since at least Michel Brault's short film "Le temps perdu" (1964) and the same technique has been adopted by every indie filmmaker who has ever won a prize in a film festival since that time (long before "Napoleon Dynamite"). I can only suppose that stressed-out festival-goers somehow appreciate the soothing effect this game of psychological peek-a-boo strip-tease can have on their harried nerves.
These elaborately static scenes, like all the later ones, are of two types: (1) indoor scenes lighted in a yellow-greenish-winter daylight colour scheme evocative of an electrical brown-out (this, in the top electricity-producing territory in the world) and/or the Vermeerian chiaroscuro of the most "difficult" films of that other Northern filmmaker, Ingmar Bergman; and (2), outdoor scenes shot at night and/or under grey skies and/or during a violent rainstorm. (The action is set in November, "the month of the dead", as we are reminded.) The characters lead lives of quiet desperation / terminal boredom / incredible isolation. Their lives intersect naturally - unlike the incredible coincidences which have made the success of, say, Quebec film "Congorama" (2006, a film about a car crash) and every first novel that has won a literary prize in the last 15 years to be forgotten again the day after the ceremony. These people try to connect with a lost husband (Lucette), to reunite with an ex-wife (Marcel), to stay married to their present spouse (Louis) or to find understanding with a kindred soul (Chantal).
The interiors are interchangeable (the same green sofa, I noticed, pops up in at least two different sets, Lucette's living room and Chantal's date's condo). They are bleak, utilitarian and random. The only one showing any personality is Marcel's bazaar, which is comprised of other people's junk. The sound and image like to linger on the jetsam of everyday life, like a dripping faucet, distant ring-tones, a discarded ceiling fan, the quiet menace of a beeping answering machine, the bleeriness of a hotel lobby at night or the inconvenience of having an unseen noisy couple as hotel room neighbours.
The film is bookended by Lucette's husband's disappearance (after the bus he is riding at night stops in the middle of nowhere and he is attracted by some dark patch of wood by the roadside) and the recreation of the same scene, this time with Lucette herself. Although both characters are "badly filmed" in three-quarter profile, what is visible of their facial expression seems to be a mixture of surprise and elation as if they had found a better place to be or an escape from their present predicament. Call it a metaphor for the afterlife and you have a French-Canadian "Ordet" (or "Stellet Licht") on your hands. Call it an avant-garde theatrical expression of the need to transcend one's monotonous circumstances and you have an actually valid life lesson.
The interconnections of those different destinies follow another recurring theme of prize-winning novels of the last fifteen years: that all facets of one's life are somehow mysteriously "justified". Such are the novels of Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt and such are the scripts of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's films (like "Amélie"). This brings a sense of satisfaction to the spectator when he discovers that a contemplative, "serious", postmodern film can also be reconciled with the requisites of classic narrative.
With all its slowness and the turgid suspense arising from the spectator's desire that at least some of it will eventually make sense in a traditional way, this film is not without its languorous charm and musical - if minimalist - structure. The director strikes a major coup at the end by using in his soundtrack a magnificent recording of the Paul Verlaine poem (set to music by Reynaldo Hahn) "D'une prison" (From a jail cell), simultanuously expressing regret over a misspent youth, solitude and marvel at life's quieter moments (sung by Quebec-born Marie-Nicole Lemieux). It was made somewhat popular in the sixties in Quebec by another magnificent interpretation, that of local tenor Jean-Paul Jeannotte. Well, I suppose it had to be that or Paul McCartney's "Junk". Guess whose copyright is cheaper.
In short, the enjoyment of this film is immensely augmented by the lighting of a joint during its opening scenes.
The film starts with a series of disjointed scenes showing individual lonely characters that may or may not encounter each other later on. This jangled exposition is initially difficult to watch. The unidentified characters barely inhabit their own scenes, whether they are photographed at odd angles or in dim lighting or simply leave the frame, sometimes not returning at all. The sense of discomfort and disorientation that this creates in the spectator is not exactly new in Quebec cinema. The long, silent, embarrassingly sustained, off-balance, naturally-lit and seemingly meaningless take has been a staple of local films since at least Michel Brault's short film "Le temps perdu" (1964) and the same technique has been adopted by every indie filmmaker who has ever won a prize in a film festival since that time (long before "Napoleon Dynamite"). I can only suppose that stressed-out festival-goers somehow appreciate the soothing effect this game of psychological peek-a-boo strip-tease can have on their harried nerves.
These elaborately static scenes, like all the later ones, are of two types: (1) indoor scenes lighted in a yellow-greenish-winter daylight colour scheme evocative of an electrical brown-out (this, in the top electricity-producing territory in the world) and/or the Vermeerian chiaroscuro of the most "difficult" films of that other Northern filmmaker, Ingmar Bergman; and (2), outdoor scenes shot at night and/or under grey skies and/or during a violent rainstorm. (The action is set in November, "the month of the dead", as we are reminded.) The characters lead lives of quiet desperation / terminal boredom / incredible isolation. Their lives intersect naturally - unlike the incredible coincidences which have made the success of, say, Quebec film "Congorama" (2006, a film about a car crash) and every first novel that has won a literary prize in the last 15 years to be forgotten again the day after the ceremony. These people try to connect with a lost husband (Lucette), to reunite with an ex-wife (Marcel), to stay married to their present spouse (Louis) or to find understanding with a kindred soul (Chantal).
The interiors are interchangeable (the same green sofa, I noticed, pops up in at least two different sets, Lucette's living room and Chantal's date's condo). They are bleak, utilitarian and random. The only one showing any personality is Marcel's bazaar, which is comprised of other people's junk. The sound and image like to linger on the jetsam of everyday life, like a dripping faucet, distant ring-tones, a discarded ceiling fan, the quiet menace of a beeping answering machine, the bleeriness of a hotel lobby at night or the inconvenience of having an unseen noisy couple as hotel room neighbours.
The film is bookended by Lucette's husband's disappearance (after the bus he is riding at night stops in the middle of nowhere and he is attracted by some dark patch of wood by the roadside) and the recreation of the same scene, this time with Lucette herself. Although both characters are "badly filmed" in three-quarter profile, what is visible of their facial expression seems to be a mixture of surprise and elation as if they had found a better place to be or an escape from their present predicament. Call it a metaphor for the afterlife and you have a French-Canadian "Ordet" (or "Stellet Licht") on your hands. Call it an avant-garde theatrical expression of the need to transcend one's monotonous circumstances and you have an actually valid life lesson.
The interconnections of those different destinies follow another recurring theme of prize-winning novels of the last fifteen years: that all facets of one's life are somehow mysteriously "justified". Such are the novels of Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt and such are the scripts of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's films (like "Amélie"). This brings a sense of satisfaction to the spectator when he discovers that a contemplative, "serious", postmodern film can also be reconciled with the requisites of classic narrative.
With all its slowness and the turgid suspense arising from the spectator's desire that at least some of it will eventually make sense in a traditional way, this film is not without its languorous charm and musical - if minimalist - structure. The director strikes a major coup at the end by using in his soundtrack a magnificent recording of the Paul Verlaine poem (set to music by Reynaldo Hahn) "D'une prison" (From a jail cell), simultanuously expressing regret over a misspent youth, solitude and marvel at life's quieter moments (sung by Quebec-born Marie-Nicole Lemieux). It was made somewhat popular in the sixties in Quebec by another magnificent interpretation, that of local tenor Jean-Paul Jeannotte. Well, I suppose it had to be that or Paul McCartney's "Junk". Guess whose copyright is cheaper.
In short, the enjoyment of this film is immensely augmented by the lighting of a joint during its opening scenes.
One of the best French Canadian film... ever!!
lupinlevorace10 March 2008
Just a few words to say of much I love this film!! I recently watched it for a second time and I liked it even more!! The acting is excellent, the writing is flawless (in a realistic kind of way) and the directing is very sober (the camera is very static with very minimal editing).
It's such a shame that this film did so little at the box office. I can easily understand why the average John Doe didn't bother but what about all those cinephiles out there ??
As far as I am concern, "Continental - Un Film Sans Fusil" ranks among some of the great French Canadian films such as "Les Ordres", "Mon Oncle Antoine", "Les Bons Débarras", etc...
Please do yourself a favor and go watch it right now!!
It's such a shame that this film did so little at the box office. I can easily understand why the average John Doe didn't bother but what about all those cinephiles out there ??
As far as I am concern, "Continental - Un Film Sans Fusil" ranks among some of the great French Canadian films such as "Les Ordres", "Mon Oncle Antoine", "Les Bons Débarras", etc...
Please do yourself a favor and go watch it right now!!
Innovative, fun and entertaining
Blondmonkey519 March 2008
I read nothing of this movie before going in and I'm glad I didn't. I think I would have been put off by any reviews.
This is a great story of human interaction and sibling connection. Beautifully filmed and containing some truly amazing dialog, Lafleur manages to create an insightful, sometimes funny story of man's struggle with life.
Lafleur is a great talent. He brilliantly wrote and directed this great low budget movie. I think many will miss this one which is really sad. Movies like this should really be part of everyone's regular viewing. We'd all be much more enlightened characters if that was the case.
10/10
This is a great story of human interaction and sibling connection. Beautifully filmed and containing some truly amazing dialog, Lafleur manages to create an insightful, sometimes funny story of man's struggle with life.
Lafleur is a great talent. He brilliantly wrote and directed this great low budget movie. I think many will miss this one which is really sad. Movies like this should really be part of everyone's regular viewing. We'd all be much more enlightened characters if that was the case.
10/10
Disappointing
mike_caccioppoli16 May 2008
A man wakes up alone on a bus in the middle of nowhere. In this black comedy, his sudden and unexplained disappearance affects the lives of four people: Lucette (Marie-Ginette Guay) his wife, Louis (Réal Bossé) a traveling salesman, Chantal (Fanny Mallette) a bored hotel receptionist and Marcel (Gilbert Sicotte) a failed gambler. Their stories are told separately but eventually intertwine.
This film begins promisingly and has some funny lines in the opening 20 minutes but never quite hits those heights again. Quebec cinema set a high standard at SIFF last year and Continental doesn't quite leap over it scriptwise although the acting is of a very high quality.
The name refers to a line dance popular in North America where each dancer evolves alone. In the dance, you do your own thing aware that others are nearby.
This film was an Official Selection at Venice and Toronto's festival in 2007.
This film begins promisingly and has some funny lines in the opening 20 minutes but never quite hits those heights again. Quebec cinema set a high standard at SIFF last year and Continental doesn't quite leap over it scriptwise although the acting is of a very high quality.
The name refers to a line dance popular in North America where each dancer evolves alone. In the dance, you do your own thing aware that others are nearby.
This film was an Official Selection at Venice and Toronto's festival in 2007.
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