Clearly, the films follow one another and are not alike in an eclectic… and unequal Cannes competition. After a day marked by three variously disappointing proposals from Christophe Honoré, Paolo Sorrentino and Sean Baker, what a joy it was to discover the perfectly mastered one from Miguel Gomes: Grand Tour. In this case, the Portuguese filmmaker revisits certain themes and processes of his festival success Taboo, published a dozen years ago. Between postcolonial reflection and cinematic reverie, the former critic takes us on a journey through different countries on the Asian continent, hence the title, in 1917-1918.
Filmed in overexposed black and white with a slightly chalky finish, for an aged finish, the film alternates between reconstructions of periods with an assumed DIY side and current images. The plot unfolds indifferently, fluidly, in this kind of timelessness, of “suspended time”.
Time which, by the way, is one of the central themes of the film.
Ostensibly, Grand Tour tale, in two parts (well), from so many points of view, a funny love story. We first meet Edward, an English colonial official stationed in Mandalay. Having come to Rangoon by boat, in the middle of the monsoon, he left the city in a hurry by train.
It’s because Edward is running away from his fiancée of the last seven years, Molly, who pursues him with her telegrams — it was before text messages, before we “ ghost ” people.
Singular, strange adventures ensue… A bit like being plunged into a feverish dream.
Then we go back to Rangoon, where Molly arrives an hour after Edward left. Suddenly, she sets out after him, determined, and convinced that his evasions are the result of professional obligations.
A succession of curious twists and turns, take two. And the feverish dream turns into a foggy nightmare…
Surrender to the film
What can we understand from this cerebral but playful work, rigorous but not devoid of humor? A beginning of the answer lies in one of the scenes, set in a monastery where Edward has taken refuge. A monk then recommends that he “surrender to the world” rather than trying to understand it. An ingenious pirouette inviting you to “surrender to the film”…
In this regard, if Miguel Gomes openly claims to be Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau (see in particular Tabufrom 1931) in terms of form, we recognize in him the facetious intelligence of Raúl Ruiz (see among others The stolen painting hypothesis), with regard to substance.
Enigmatic, literary, poetic, even mystical towards the end, Grand Tour is carried by a musical framework also combining the ancient and the most modern, between classical composers, immortal songs (My Wayby Sinatra) and traditional songs… All in all, timeless (we always come back to the theme of time).
[Les personnages] sing love songs. They seem completely unaware of what is coming: the colonial empire will collapse. This is how I dealt with this question of colonialism. They didn’t see it coming.
In this regard, during a scene between Edward and the man who rescued him in the jungle, the latter tells him that the song of which the rumor spreads to them is entitled Endless passion in this village, and Infinite sadness in the neighbor.
The same goes for the film: the segment with Molly representing passion, and the one with Edward, sadness, until the subtle fusion of the two, during a transcendent denouement. On this occasion, Gomes momentarily breaks the fourth wall before diving back into the cinematic illusion.
Standing the test of time
Obsessed with their flight and their pursuit, respectively, Edward and Molly are blind and deaf to the fact that the colonial machine is coming to a halt: here, we speak of “troubles” in a city, there, the imminent rout of the occupier…
On this level, the filmmaker returns to the bias of his previous Taboo. HAS Filmmaker MagazineMiguel Gomes explained at the time: “ [Les personnages] sing love songs. They seem completely unaware of what is coming: the colonial empire will collapse. This is how I dealt with this question of colonialism. They didn’t see it coming. »
Gomes might make a similar statement about Grand Tour.
Ultimately, these thwarted engagements are only the proverbial tree that hides the forest. Indeed, in the end, this “Western” love imbroglio turns out to be illusory as the “Oriental” countries, customs and traditions in the background are revealed in all their sustainability, even though this would have been threatened. by the colonial empires.
Hence these contemporary segments that Gomes occasionally inserts, showing puppet and silhouette theaters: august but very lively forms of entertainment. Time passes, so do political regimes, but with a little luck and a lot of resilience, the culture remains, the artistic expression remains. And cinema too, whispers Miguel Gomes from beyond the screen.
Fever in the body, but still?
François Lévesque is in Cannes at the invitation of the Festival and thanks to the support of Telefilm Canada.