hen filmmakers of great talent decide to tell their story through a film, this often, not always, but often results in immense works, even masterpieces. Among the many reasons explaining this phenomenon, two are immediately obvious: on the one hand, creating introspection is equivalent to giving oneself up like never before, and, on the other hand, the passion for the 7e art experienced by the artist finds itself gladly celebrated, again, as never before. With The Fabelmans (The Fabelmans), Steven Spielberg, 75, offers 151 minutes of reminiscences and grace.
The action takes place during the years 1950-1960. L’alter ego of the director is called Sam Fabelman, and we will follow him from childhood to very young adulthood. Very early on, Sam thinks only of making films (and of reproducing those he has seen at the cinema: ah, that miniature train derailment!).
We linger over his family, his parents… The matrimonial veneer cracks to reveal gaping flaws. In the role of the father in denial, Paul Dano is very, very touching. As a wife and mother who loves her family but is no less suffocating, Michelle Williams is overwhelming.
At first unaware of what is happening under his nose, Sam will learn the truth – ironically – through cinema, his movie theater. In fact, during an absolutely brilliant sequence where Sam (Gabriel LaBelle, excellent) edits a family film shot during a camping trip, he spots something on the film that will turn his world upside down; something that he did not see at the time, but that his camera captured (like a variation/fusion of blow-upby Michelangelo Antonioni, and by Blow Outof old friend Brian De Palma).
Here, the director seems to be saying that, even when he uses fiction, cinema can be a vector of truth.
Said camping trip will also have given rise to a superb tribute to The Red Shoes (The red slippers), Powell and Pressburger, one of Spielberg’s (and other old friend Martin Scorsese’s) favorite films. We see Michelle Williams dancing an impromptu ballet in front of the headlights of the family car. If the expressions displayed by her husband and her three daughters vary a lot, that of her son is unequivocal: he is dazzled, like us.
“Revive my parents”
With a relaxed brilliance and forceful ellipses, the film oscillates between a portrait of the artist as a young person and a family chronicle. At the world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, where we were and where The Fabelmans won the Audience Award, a very moved Steven Spielberg recounted how the project had been on his mind for a long time, and how the pandemic decided him to dive in:
“When COVID hit in March 2020, no one knew what state the arts, and life, would be in the following year. I wondered, as the situation deteriorated, what I wanted to leave behind, but also, what aspects of my life were unresolved, unpacked. About my mother, my father, my sisters […] I made this film to bring my parents back to life. »
Thus, in addition to returning to the how and why cinema is (almost) his whole life, Spielberg addresses, with The Fabelmans, a love letter to his parents. The homage paid to his mother proves to be particularly poignant (the wonderful character of a divorced mother played by Dee Wallace in AND was clearly inspired by her).
In this regard, Spielberg has never been afraid of emotions in his cinema, loving them strong, whether they are dramatic or suspenseful scenes. Some have sometimes criticized him for this, but one thing is certain, in The Fabelmansthe filmmaker ventures into deeper emotional zones, or in any case more intimate, on edge.
The will will wait
Ultimately, Spielberg’s film stands out from several other autobiographical films such as The 400 blowsby François Truffaut, or, more recently, The Souvenir and The Souvenir Part II, by Joanna Hogg. In effect, The Fabelmans is marvelous that Spielberg deconstructs his love of cinema by offering, in doing so, keys to unpublished readings to decode his films. As a way to illuminate, in the light of his confessions, his long past filmography.
In this, The Fabelmans is not only a rare film, but indispensable. With his sublime Fanny and Alexanderdesigned as The Fabelmans late in its author’s life, Ingmar Bergman had done something similar.
Finally, The Fabelmans, it’s a bit like witnessing the first beginnings of the genius of Spielberg, but in a staging dependent on all the genius that the filmmaker developed afterwards. In short, this is a therapeutic work, a sum-work and, yes, a masterpiece. A film-testament as well?
Not if it’s up to Steven Spielberg, who told TIFF: “I’m not retiring. This is not my swan song”. It would be, it would be a masterful one.