Review: Suite Française
The closing titles of Suite Française present the fact behind the fiction. Suite Française was intended to be a series of five novels by Irène Némirovsky, who had completed the first two installments before being arrested as a Jew in 1942. Némirovsky died in Auschwitz and the manuscript remained unread for 60 years. Its publication in 2004 was a testament to the raw power of her work-in-progress as well as a triumph of her immortal spirit. Director Saul Dibb, whose last effort was 2006's The Duchess, includes some pages of the original manuscript in the film's closing credits, and there is a particular and piercing heartbreak at seeing those handwritten words.
The film adaptation does not quite equal that degree of heartbreak, but it does present an often moving account of life in the small French country town of Bussy during the first months of the German occupation. The war seems a strange, almost abstract, concept but the influx of Parisian refugees make the concept ever more concrete. The arrival of the German soldiers further upends the lives of the residents of the small community. The Germans display their dominance in relatively subtle but powerful ways. Clocks are set to German time, their currency will now be circulated, and all residents must house a German soldier or two. Even the German soldiers' barechested displays in the town square are an exertion of sovereignty, reminding the wives of their empty beds and the young ladies of their unspoken desires.
And yet...these Germans seem less like monsters than ordinary men. Take Lieutenant Bruno van Falk (Matthias Schoenaerts), who has been on the battlefield for as long as he's been married. He has been billeted to the home of Madame Angellier (the always commanding Kristin Scott Thomas) and her daughter-in-law Lucille (Michelle Williams). All he requests is a key to the piano and a desk, he wishes no further inconvenience. Lucille, whose marriage is gradually revealed to be more a transaction of business than emotion, finds relief in Bruno's presence. Williams and Schoenaerts are performers capable of the greatest delicacy and sensitivity, and their emotionally articulate portrayals lend shade and substance to the love story.
The complex romance may be the central focus but moral complexities are in every fibre of the narrative. Part of what makes Suite Française a generally compelling watch is how the divides are broken down and rebuilt in often surprising ways. Madame Angellier is a much-feared character who makes few allowances for the hardworking tenants on her land, yet she will prove herself their strongest ally by film's end. Even the mayor (Lambert Wilson), who suddenly finds sees his illusion of security severely shattered, evokes sympathy in spite of his using his wealth to circumvent the housing mandate. Wilson, arguably one of France's most underrated actors, is nothing less than superb in his handful of scenes.
The film is beautifully presented with top-notch contributions from cinematographer Eduard Grau, production designer Michael Carlin, and especially costume designer Michael O'Connor and hair and makeup designer Jenny Shircore. As lovely as the film is to look at, it does have its flaws. First and foremost is Dibb's screenplay, which features voiceover narration that is wholly unnecessary since Williams expertly conveys Lucille's sentiments. Margot Robbie's role as a good time girl who liaises with the Germans could have easily been jettisoned since it is woefully underdeveloped. However, since Robbie's star is very much on the rise, one suspects her reprieve from the cutting room floor may have been mandated by the marketing department.
Suite Française
Directed by: Saul Dibb
Written by: Saul Dibb; adapted from Irène Némirovsky's novel
Starring: Michelle Williams, Matthias Schoenaerts, Kristin Scott Thomas, Ruth Wilson, Sam Riley, Margot Robbie, Lambert Wilson, Harriet Walter, Alexandra Maria Lara
