I’ve Loved You So Long (2008; France) is the story of how a woman released from prison after serving 15 years for a shocking murder slowly rehabilitates and fits back into society. Crucial to the process is her younger sister, Lea, who has to undergo some changes herself.
The main challenge the movie has to meet is how to get us excited about a woman who is clinically depressed, who is often described as not being there. It’s tough to make an interesting film about someone who isn’t interested in anything. I’ve Loved You So Long attempts to stimulate our interest in two way. One: Great acting by Kristen Scott Thomas as Juliette. Ironically, if she had acted sort of depressed, or depressed with suppressed energy, or lively but depressed about certain things, she would probably have been insufferable. But Juliette starts the film so seriously depressed that every fibre of her being is lifeless, even a puff on a cigarette perfunctory. Strangely, this is interesting. I started to ask how she got so depressed, how long would she remain like that, and would characters get sick of her even before I? But, two, Juliette begins to change in fits and starts. This is an interesting process, even when she has relapses. I don’t actually know how realistic this process is, but it feels realistic.
Unfortunately, few actors support Scott Thomas’s superb performance. When Juliette goes to her first job interview, the working class boss dismisses her when she admits to murder, but his response is formulaic and perfunctory. Although the scene initially builds his character as a busy, no-nonsense guy, his reaction to Juliette is to make a plot point that ex-cons have a difficult time getting a job. He could have looked startled and said, Why did you do it!? Or he could have looked business-like and said, You won’t fit into our operation. But he says unconvincingly, Get out! Another example? Much later in the movie, Juliette is participating in one of those friends-get-together-in-a-villa parties the French seem to love, when the inebriated host turns on Juliette at the dinner table. He is supposed to be drunk but does not sound or act drunk. His dialogue is convoluted and fakey as it wends its way to challenging Juliette to reveal her background. It’s just not the stuff I imagine as realistic, and the speech could be written more convincingly by many. More importantly, the sister, Elsa Zylbe4rstein, is excellent in the upbeat scenes but artificial in some of the serious scenes. When she picks Juliette up from the lonely airport, she is vivacious and engaging when she gives a bemused 4-sentence summary of her life over the last 15 years. You like this perky young woman. In contrast, the “heavy” scenes are strained. For example, when Juliette finally talks about her crime, Elsa Zylberstein plays the scene paint-by-numbers—no natural reaction, so spontaneity, no natural body language, etc. You start to watch the poor acting rather than the scene.
At the same time, some actors turn in excellent performances. Lea’s oldest daughter is perfectly appropriate for parents who are both professors. And Juliette’s probation officer (Frederic Pierrot) shows his veteran chops by presenting a perfectly believable cop on the edge.
But even if all the acting and all the dialogue had been excellent, the plot would still have been disappointingly predictable. Do you think the depressed murderer will lighten up? Duh. Do you think “talking about” the crime will turn things around? Duh. Do you think that she will move out of her sister’s into a place of her own? Duh. Do you think her sister’s husband will eventually allow her to baby sit? Duh. Most important, do you think that her murder will turn out to have major extenuating circumstance? Duh!
There is one aspect of the movie that was not predictable for me, and it was the strong point. Juliette’s parole officer was an eccentric guy who wanted to talk about himself more than listen to her. Yet he skimmed over talk of his ex-wife and how she sent the children for visits like parcels. He talked of fountains, water, and the Orinoco River. Then he quietly shifted meetings to cafes, rather nice cafes. There is a very nice scene where he is trying to get personal but he and Juliette simply do not connect,. I’m not sure why, but I think they are too involved in their own little dramas. When Juliette next reports, a new cop briskly tells her to sign and get visit over with. Juliette’s original parole officer has shot himself. Juliette goes home and lies on the bed. One of the drawbacks of movies is that we do not know what she is think. I guess you could say one of the strengths of moving pictures is that we have to guess what she is thinking. I’m guessing it was a turning point for Juliette. She had completely missed his requests for love because she was so tied up in her own ‘problems” and so sure everything in the world was worthless. This whole episode—a minor character unexpectedly kills himself—is the strongest part of the film because it eschews the stereotypical plot.