A star of Quebec finance, Vincent Lacroix found himself ostracized from society when his spectacular success was exposed for what it really was: a vast fraud. The case caused a stir, and rightly so, many small savers having been ruined by the sad sire who, like the frog in the fable, saw himself as an ox, obviously without thinking of the collateral victims of his inevitable explosion. To relate the scandal, screenwriter Simon Lavoie and director Maxime Giroux made the winning bet, in their film norbourgto anchor at the point of view of Lacroix’s right-hand man, Éric Asselin.
The result is a vertiginous dive into the little-known backstage of Quebec high finance, with Vincent Lacroix very early on (excellent François Arnaud, between master of the universe and seller of chariots used), an eye on the international market. In this respect, the film depicts the businessman as a charismatic, extremely ambitious being whose absolute lack of scruples is justified, in his eyes, by the need to expand.
We see from the beginning Éric Asselin (remarkable Vincent-Guillaume Otis, all shades of disloyalty), then auditor at the Quebec Securities Commission, fascinated and envious. Lacroix’s rich lifestyle, he wants to taste it too.
So that, even though he was in charge of investigating the company and its president, Asselin joined Norbourg where he became vice-president. This breach of ethics is in this case small beer compared to what will follow.
beautiful influences
As colleague Annabelle Caillou pointed out last week, norbourg comes at a time when all screen formats are obsessed with scammers. Thus, contrary to the formerly favored formula consisting of espousing the perspective of the police or journalists who have shed light on the crime, it is now more to that of the criminals themselves that we are interested.
Paradoxically, on the visual plane, the referential field of norbourg evokes masterpieces of the first school, namely the “paranoid trilogy” of Alan J. Pakula: Klute, The Parallax View (Due to an assassination), and especially All the President’s Men (The President’s men). The evocation is there, in the characteristic plays of shadow and light, the compositions and the deliberately pronounced angles of shots. However, Maxime Giroux (Felix and Meira, The great darkness) and cinematographer Sara Mishara (drunken birds) being endowed with strong artistic personalities, norbourg never sinks into pastiche, maintaining on the contrary a distinct formal identity.
The staging finds are numerous, such as this way of relegating Asselin’s family ever further into the frame, even out of frame, as the latter becomes obsessed with his illusory success.
However, the focus on the “bad guys” rather than the “good guys” sometimes creates a negative effect. psychology (Psychosis, 1960). That is to say, as is the case when watching Norman Bates erase the traces of the murder committed by his “mother”, we find ourselves almost (almost) hoping that Lacroix and Asselin will not get caught when the noose begins to tighten around them… It’s fleeting, and we pull ourselves together quickly.
All the same, destabilizing on purpose, the phenomenon echoes a concealed reality, because not very brilliant, that the film is skilful in suggesting: in high places, they were obviously numerous to want Norbourg to become a success story, hence the disconcerting ease with which Lacroix, in view of certain passages, very nearly achieved his ends. Note, here, the lucidity of a former auditor colleague (Christine Beaulieu), who sensed the scheme very early on, but whose report was “shelved” in favor of a change of government – politics is implicitly but seriously scratched by the movie.
A deceitful antihero
If we sometimes think of Wall Streetmodel production in financial corruption, there is a fundamental difference with regard to the protagonist of norbourg. In that, with Oliver Stone, we have a subjugated hero who wakes up in time, while with Maxime Giroux, we have a spineless antihero who sinks ever deeper into his own turpitude. Because the portrait that the film paints of Éric Asselin is hardly flattering, presenting him as a pathetic guy who is happy to play it big male with a lot of luxury cars, strip clubs and flashy suburban castles.
The deceit ascribed to Asselin is at the heart of the screenplay, which details with as much skill as clarity the ins and outs of the fraud masterminded by Lacroix. The film is carried by a slow-burning suspense with a patient but constant crescendo. It’s a nice modulation job.
A bit overused, Philippe Brault’s music is no less effective. Besides, norbourg benefits from the expertise of a brilliant technical team, from David Pelletier in artistic direction to Mathieu Bouchard-Malo in editing and Patricia McNeil in costumes. Beyond the necessary moral tale and the essential duty of memory, there is at work, in norbourga rather impressive mixture of rigor and panache.