L'Enfant

by Ari

The first image that appears in L’Enfant is of course the symbol of the Palm D’or, the top prize at the illustrious Cannes International Film Festival. This symbol garners interest towards anything it’s bestowed upon - a promise for quality and art by filmmakers of importance and value. It’s gratifying that some credence can still be placed among certain film organizations like Cannes, and while awarding L’Enfant a top prize over some very worthy candidates was debatable, its artistic quality is undeniable. L’Enfant doesn’t remotely approach greatness, but there’s still something quietly effective about the Dardenne’s gloomy portrait of young love between two social misfits. The filmmakers create realistic situations, and the two lead actors simply become their characters in two equally brave roles. Realism and immediacy is extremely difficult to attain in something as deliberately slow as L’Enfant, but the Dardenne’s attempt to build emotional complexity through mundane activity is fairly interesting.

Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne are clearly interested in presenting something realistically affecting even though their characters are somewhat dull and distant. Identifying with or even liking the lead characters, especially Bruno, is particularly difficult, but feeling emotionally close to their desperation isn’t as important as eventually understanding it. The Dardenne’s slowly develop the story of young lovers and parents Bruno and Sonia, who survive because of Bruno’s petty criminal activities with a gang of small children. Sonia is the sweetest and most sensible of the two, which isn’t saying much considering she lives precariously with her idiotic boyfriend and their week-old child, Jimmy. They have no home and hardly any money, and lead helpless lives among the lowly figures of Belgian society.
What creates the narrative is the uncertain question of whether or not the couple realize their child’s well-being is of immediate significance, and how they plan on changing their desperate and dangerous situation. Bruno is obsessed with money, not only for survival, but because of some childish notion that stealing it is more pleasing than earning it. As he states, “work is for fuckers”. It’s this simpleton viewpoint that makes it hard to support his character, even when he’s stuck in predicaments worse than he may even deserve. Once Bruno commits the ugliest of sins, his inevitable and depressing fate is exactly what he’s owed. It’s a testament to the Dardenne’s abilities that your emotional investment is actually strong towards the end of a mostly miserable experience. His emotional journey is fairly pathetic and dour, but the Dardenne’s create an affecting sense of understanding with his lost sense of direction.

The performances are flawless, and it’s this fact that most likely brought the film top honor at Cannes. Jérémie Renier and Déborah François are incredible to watch, as they simply become these characters with ease. Sonia has the stronger emotional arc even though she has less screen-time than Bruno, and her maturation is simultaneously sad and sweet. It’s unfortunate she’s attracted to such a helpless loser like Bruno, but her eventual dedication to him is surprisingly effective. She endures the worst circumstances because of Bruno’s mistakes, and her arc is worth the price of admission alone. Déborah François is somewhat mesmerizing in this role. While she’s not quite as overly sexual as Briget Bardot, she has a similar quality of sweetness and innocence, and does a wonderful job of bringing emotional complexity to their dilemma. Renier is excellent as Bruno, no matter how despicable or idiotic he becomes. The characters are carefully explored as the story progresses, and both actors provide powerful and nuanced performances as troubled lovers.

L’Enfant is something fresh and interesting, and while not completely riveting it still manages to provoke thought and discussion.