In the cinema, the stories of complicated, even catastrophic shoots, are often used to show how difficult it is to make a film, and how teamwork is the key to everything. And as with any formula, The American night at Downton Abbey: A New Era (Downton Abbey. A new era), in this matter, the best rubs shoulders with the worst. Unveiled in Cannes, Cut! falls into the first category. Written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius, Oscar winner for Best Picture and Best Direction for The Artist (The artist), another tribute to the cinema, it is the remake from a 2017 Japanese production: Don’t cut!. Far from being a disadvantage, this aspect increases the level of interest in what turns out to be a brilliant meta-cinematic exercise.
Turn the remake of a film that speaks of cinema where the characters themselves shoot a remakeisn’t this the height of metacinema?
However, all this starts in a disconcerting way, since we are witnessing the filming of a Z series zombie film in which the team is suddenly attacked by “real” zombies. If the performers of the film in the film play out of tune, it’s even worse once the shooting is interrupted and we come back to “reality”. The whole thing is filmed in a single and impressive sequence shot, but the only thing that scares people at this stage is the ambient tackiness.
What is more, this first part, which consists of the presentation of the film within the film (in the film, it appears), turns out a priori longuette, the metafictitious principle, or rather meta-metafictitious, being quickly established. You follow ? A posteriori however, the vertiginous dimension of the triple mise en abyme imposes itself, resulting in enthusiastic support, in the second part.
In the third part, the virtuosity of the whole is no longer in doubt: an observation that is accompanied by an irrepressible smile that we will not depart from the rest of the film.
Laugh and think
In his version, Michel Hazanavicius also adds a very moving personal dimension to the meta-cinematographic game. In fact, in addition to his companion and assiduous collaborator, Bérénice Bejo, in the leading female role, his niece Raïka Hazanavicius and especially his daughter Simone (born of a first union with the director Virginie Lovisone) hold pivotal roles.
In short, between a tribute as irreverent as it is affectionate to 7e art and its craftsmen, and nods in all directions to George A. Romero (the specter of Dawn of the Dead [Zombie. Le crépuscule des morts-vivants]), Tobe Hooper (the fictional heroine covered in blood smiling with beautiful teeth at the end like that of Tea Texas Chainsaw Massacre [Massacre à la tronçonneuse]), and Jean-Luc Godard (the actor chasing a zombie while chanting anti-capitalist slogans), Michel Hazanavicius gets paid for.
Not to be outdone, moviegoers have plenty to laugh about and think about.