After making films about social recluses (Curling), ex-convicts (Vic + Flo Saw a Bear) and venturing into documentaries on animals (Bestiaire) and factory workers (Joy of Man’s Desiring), French-Canadian filmmaker Denis Côté sets his sights on the upper class in Boris Without Béatrice. Its story, about a successful businessman confronting his own privilege after a surreal encounter, will undoubtedly rub people the wrong way given its sympathetic view towards an unsympathetic protagonist, but fans of Côté’s precise, arresting style will find plenty to enjoy, even if it’s in strictly formal terms.

James Hyndman plays Boris Malinovsky, a middle-aged man as arrogant as he is successful. Early scenes establish Boris’ rich lifestyle and hubris, like when he gets furious at the cashier of a high-class clothing store for asking him too many questions or crashes a town hall to lambast the mayor for not prioritizing an unpaved road near his house. But Boris’ obnoxious sense of pride and short temper might be influenced by added stress at home; his wife Béatrice (Simone-Élise Girard), a minister for the Canadian government, has come down with a severe depression that’s left her mute and bedridden. Boris, unable to deal with his wife’s ailment, hires Klara (Isolda Dychauk) to take care of her while he continues an affair with co-worker Helga (Dounia Sichov). It’s a typical case of someone using their wealth to fill the holes in their life with something else, rather than putting the work in to try and gain back what’s lost.

For a character so stuck in his own self-inflated world, it will take a lot to shake Boris from his foundation. Enter Denis Lavant as an unknown stranger, who leaves a message in Boris’ mailbox urging him to meet late at night in a nearby quarry. Their meeting, which feels like Côté’s version of the Cowboy scene in Mulholland Drive, has Lavant (who electrifies the film just by showing up in a kurta) explaining to Boris that he’s the cause for Béatrice’s condition, and in order to cure her, he needs to change his life. The encounter throws Boris into a crisis that makes him re-evaluate his life while diving further into his selfish comforts when he starts an affair with Klara.

While Boris Without Béatrice may be Côté’s first time dealing with affluent characters, he’s far from the first filmmaker to explore the problems people can afford to have, and the thematic familiarity can make certain stretches feel a bit stale. But one of Côté’s strengths has always been his ability to build an enclosed yet well-realized universe within each of his films, so it comes as no surprise that his style fits nicely when operating within the bubble of someone’s privileged existence.

Teaming up with cinematographer Jessica Lee Gagné, Côté extends the functional qualities of the narrative to the film’s visuals. Just as every action in the film leads to a direct reaction involving some other aspect of the story— Béatrice’s health improves or worsens depending on how Boris acts—Côté uses environments to make a direct commentary on each character’s current state, whether it’s obscuring Béatrice behind reflective surfaces or using the vertical lines throughout Boris’ sleek estate to make him appear separated from others within the same scene. Côté’s efficiency when it comes to establishing information through visuals is most effective when using flashbacks to show Boris reflecting on happier times with his wife. Shooting these (brief) moments in warm tones on what looks like 8mm film, the organic and textured look of the footage establishes that, despite his bad behavior, Boris’ love for Béatrice is real.

For any shortcomings Boris Without Béatrice might have storywise, Côté’s direction and his ensemble pick up the slack. It may lack the same unpredictability that made Vic + Flo Saw a Bear so strong, but Côté has firmly established himself as one of Canada’s strongest and most consistent directors working today.

A few writers from Way Too Indie sit down to discuss, analyze and break-down some of the elements found in Holy Motors. This is a film that can be difficult to fully interpret because there are many possible meanings behind what goes on. The purpose of this feature is to present a unique format that is personal, colorful and informative. Reactions from the staff below may contain some spoilers but Holy Motors is a film that is hard to spoil.

Discussion and Analysis of Holy Motors

Holy Motors opens in a theater of unmoving bodies, an unseen film plays. A man wakes in a bed on a boat, uses the key he has in place of a finger and stumbles through the wall into the movie theater as a baby and a dog walk up the aisles. Having established strange as the new normal, it’s a bit easier to accept the rest of this film and it’s so-called “story line”.

The film follows a day in the life of Monsieur Oscar (Denis Lavant), who makes his way around Paris from one “appointment” to the next in a white stretch limo driven by Céline (played gracefully by Edith Scob), his dutiful chauffeur. At each stop, Oscar exits from his limo as someone new. He’s an elderly beggar woman, a motion capture stunt man with sensors illuminating his body, a monstrous kidnapper, a hard-nosed father, a dying old man, a thug sent to assassinate his own doppelganger, and the list continues as Monsieur Oscar’s day is long. We watch Oscar between each appointment reading the file on what he is to be next, grabbing a bite to eat, chatting with Celine and transforming himself for whatever is next on the agenda. ‘Behind and in front of the camera’ become meaningless phrases as our actor prepares, meticulously applying fake hair and rubber masks, and puts himself into his scene, changing his entire persona on a dime. He is woman, he is young, he is old, he is two of himself, he is hideous, and he is handsome.

While Leos Carax’s first feature film in over a decade may be trying to sell itself as an ode to the complexity and multi-dimensions of the art of film, it proves most to be an ode to the man on screen. The actor, who carries out each emotion and holds the story in his hands. Denis Lavant, Carax’s longtime favorite actor and star of most his films, proves that his expert chameleonic abilities are the real subject of this film.

Carax imagines a world where the cameras are always rolling and the actor does not choose his parts, he must be ready to be anything. However, he seems to forget that a film works best when those parts are given context, when we the audience are able to see the evolution of those characters, and our day with Oscar gives us no real insight into his life. The only scene where we may be seeing a moment that is truly just Oscar’s story is when he literally runs into an ex-love, played by Kylie Minogue. She implies they may have had a child once upon a time and sings a haunting song wondering aloud what if they had done things differently. While the scene was a great reminder of the emotional impact music has inside film, it’s over all too quickly and we’re left to wonder what was the rest of these two old lovers’ story? Or was this another scene and we’ve been duped into thinking it may have been real? Lavant is credited to have played 11 roles in Holy Motors, though Celine says he has only 9 appointments that day. What’s real and what isn’t? And so Carax checks off the musical genre among his references in the film and we move on. Though, on the note of music, the intermission of the film, a sweeping harmonized accordion number almost makes the whole film worth the cost of admission. Almost.

Carax’s film has laugh out loud moments, beautiful tableaus, and a truly versatile actor but it falls short of a being a thoroughly realized film and thus isn’t believable as a sincere celebration of the art form. At least Carax does acknowledge that most essential cog of the movie experience motor: the audience. Oscar’s mysterious boss tells him in one scene, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, and Oscar asks, “What if there is no beholder?” reminding us that without the audience the actor works in vain, his existence holds no meaning. Filmmaking has evolved consistently throughout the years, and one day the cameras may indeed be invisible, but the actor and his audience will always be essential. If Carax had been a bit more mindful of the audience’s needs, he may have made a true masterpiece and not a disjointed glimpse at a great actor.

If there is one consensus critics are saying about the film Holy Motors at Cannes Film Festival, it is that it’s a one-of-a-kind film. The critical assessment of the Holy Motors seems to be an even split, some saying it is one of the best films in two years at the festival, some said the film is obtuse. One thing is for sure though; the trailer has caught our attention. If “out there” films are what you are into, this may be one to keep an eye on (no pun intended, watch the trailer).

Official trailer of Holy Motors: