Raiders
09-19-2008, 02:20 AM
http://www.offoffoff.com/film/2003/images/fridaynight.jpg
There's a kind of finality about moving in with another person. Whether it be after a marriage or simply in the form of dating, you are nonetheless declaring yourself to that person. It is an inevitable step in a relationship, but leaving your freedom and your singularity behind you is a scary prospect and often approached with trepidation. It all culminates with that last packing: the final act of placing yourself inside a box only to open it again to a different surrounding and responsibilities and experience.
The opening moments of Claire Denis' extraordinary fantasy Friday Night find such a scene taking place for Laure who is packing up her things and moving in with her boyfriend Francois. She lingers over a party dress, unsure if this is something she will need in her not-so-single life with Francois. The scene has a sense of sadness, but only in the spatial relationship Laure has with her now-evaporating belongings and bachelor life and in the understated fear associated with the act.
Laure is supposed to be meeting a girlfriend for dinner, but on the way she runs into an enormous traffic jam as there is a transit strike (and as someone who has visited Paris, I can safely say it would be at least this bad with no public transportation). She sees some pedestrians looking to carpool for a ride, and though she is immediately suspicious (she even locks her door), eventually she allows a middle-aged man Jean to enter her car for a ride. It ultimately follows a path similar to such exquisite "temporary romance" films as Brief Encounter and In the Mood for Love. Laure and Jean eventually wind up in a hotel room and explore each other, and Laure herself, multiple times throughout the night.
Though this seems like a callous act by Laure towards the never-seen Francois, Denis' film plays out very much like destiny. From the first frame, there's a casual sense of fantasy and fate that bring this together. The film's enrapturing score and cinematography by Agnes Godard make every sight and sound an aphrodisiac as Jean and Laure stroll through the Parisian night. Every turn is laced with underlying sensuality and Denis very much makes this night an act of a higher power. There is no escaping for Laure and by the end, we perhaps realize that everyone needs a last hurrah before making the plunge.
Two images stuck with me that seem to suggest a deeper implication in Laure's journey. There is the image in the beginning of her lingering over the party dress and one in the second half where she lingers on the sleeve of Jean's coat. Once with Francois, she will only again touch the sleeve of his coat and other men will never get to be this intimate. Same is the image of her party dress, reflecting a carefree sexuality perhaps not suited for a "committed" life.
This is not a film about love. It isn't even really about attraction. It is about a necessary bump towards the final destination. In the end, it isn't really a sad goodbye. It feels more like a cleansing and a purging. What started out as a solemn packing of a previous life has turned into a one-night stand that seems almost disconnected from reality. And maybe that is Denis' point. Maybe that's why the film always straddles the line between fantasy and reality. Maybe this is the city's gift to Laure, a final night of pure joy and no responsibility before the commitment. Morally ambiguous, but who is to argue with divine intervention? After all, if it's a gorgeous night in the City of Love and you have fate on your side, it's not really cheating.
There's a kind of finality about moving in with another person. Whether it be after a marriage or simply in the form of dating, you are nonetheless declaring yourself to that person. It is an inevitable step in a relationship, but leaving your freedom and your singularity behind you is a scary prospect and often approached with trepidation. It all culminates with that last packing: the final act of placing yourself inside a box only to open it again to a different surrounding and responsibilities and experience.
The opening moments of Claire Denis' extraordinary fantasy Friday Night find such a scene taking place for Laure who is packing up her things and moving in with her boyfriend Francois. She lingers over a party dress, unsure if this is something she will need in her not-so-single life with Francois. The scene has a sense of sadness, but only in the spatial relationship Laure has with her now-evaporating belongings and bachelor life and in the understated fear associated with the act.
Laure is supposed to be meeting a girlfriend for dinner, but on the way she runs into an enormous traffic jam as there is a transit strike (and as someone who has visited Paris, I can safely say it would be at least this bad with no public transportation). She sees some pedestrians looking to carpool for a ride, and though she is immediately suspicious (she even locks her door), eventually she allows a middle-aged man Jean to enter her car for a ride. It ultimately follows a path similar to such exquisite "temporary romance" films as Brief Encounter and In the Mood for Love. Laure and Jean eventually wind up in a hotel room and explore each other, and Laure herself, multiple times throughout the night.
Though this seems like a callous act by Laure towards the never-seen Francois, Denis' film plays out very much like destiny. From the first frame, there's a casual sense of fantasy and fate that bring this together. The film's enrapturing score and cinematography by Agnes Godard make every sight and sound an aphrodisiac as Jean and Laure stroll through the Parisian night. Every turn is laced with underlying sensuality and Denis very much makes this night an act of a higher power. There is no escaping for Laure and by the end, we perhaps realize that everyone needs a last hurrah before making the plunge.
Two images stuck with me that seem to suggest a deeper implication in Laure's journey. There is the image in the beginning of her lingering over the party dress and one in the second half where she lingers on the sleeve of Jean's coat. Once with Francois, she will only again touch the sleeve of his coat and other men will never get to be this intimate. Same is the image of her party dress, reflecting a carefree sexuality perhaps not suited for a "committed" life.
This is not a film about love. It isn't even really about attraction. It is about a necessary bump towards the final destination. In the end, it isn't really a sad goodbye. It feels more like a cleansing and a purging. What started out as a solemn packing of a previous life has turned into a one-night stand that seems almost disconnected from reality. And maybe that is Denis' point. Maybe that's why the film always straddles the line between fantasy and reality. Maybe this is the city's gift to Laure, a final night of pure joy and no responsibility before the commitment. Morally ambiguous, but who is to argue with divine intervention? After all, if it's a gorgeous night in the City of Love and you have fate on your side, it's not really cheating.