35 Rhums and Blind Side

In the past week I finished two very different films while treadmilling at the gym, and each left me unable to quite express why I felt the way that I did after watching it. It wasn't until putting the two together that I was able to begin to analyze my reactions. 35 Rhums is a French film by Claire Denis [L'Intrus), and it tells the story of a Parisian family of African descent. The film's plot is elliptical, recursive, vague, and even the ending, which works back to the title ritual, refuses to illuminate much of anything. On the other hand, The Blind Side's plot leaves nothing unexplained. It's a well-acted movie (ok, maybe not acted. It's at least well-cast), and the direction is professional and pleasing in many ways. The movie was constructed carefully and expertly to manipulate the viewer's feelings, and it's ever-so-careful to not offend and make one feel good. Like a Twinkie. And an hour later when the sugar rush went away, there's nothing left of sustain the soul. 35 Rhums is similarly made by a competent director and DP, but it manipulates the viewer's emotions but then refuses to tell that viewer how to feel about the emotions that are raised. It's leaves one something to think about well after consumption. Rather than a Twinkie, it's more like a supple, textured wine from a variety you've never had before. Disconcerting and pleasing at the same time. The camera work is amazing, as we glide with the camera on the RER through the grittier outskirts of Paris, or with a cab through glistening streets, always moving but going nowhere. In a month's time I may find that I don't like the movie at all, but it makes me want to keep thinking about it. On the other hand, can't imagine I'll spend any future time thinking about the Blind Side.