During the pandemic and the lockdown, filmmaker Cédric Kahn (The Goldman Trial, Wild life) had and took the time to reflect on the art he has been practicing for some 35 years. During this imposed break, he had an idea, which he bit into. The result has teeth, but also possesses the tenderness and depth of someone who knows. And who loves, against all odds.
Co-written with Fanny Burdino, Making of tells the behind-the-scenes story of a film shoot that is going down the drain. Denis Podalydès, always on target, plays Simon, a director at the end of his rope before the first “silence, we’re rolling!” has even been called. In front of his camera: a swollen-headed headliner (Jonathan Cohen, who is leading a big show) does everything he can to reduce the role of his young co-star (Souheila Yacoub). In the shadows: a producer who lies as he breathes (Xavier Beauvois, deliciously cunning) and a production manager (Emmanuelle Bercot, perfect as a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown) on whom everything weighs more and more heavily. And for good reason.
Simon’s film, in which we follow the shooting of several scenes against a backdrop of screams, fury and classical music, is inspired by a true story that ended badly: that of the struggle of workers who mobilized to save their jobs. The filmmaker wants the truth of the drama on screen. Which does not suit those who have filled the proverbial purse closed by strings. In the absence of a happy endingthey withdraw their marbles and their euros. However, money being the sinews of war, things start to go wrong everywhere.
What the film denounces regarding power relations and social injustices then happens on the set. Making of thus becomes a feature film that says a lot about France today, its all-round tensions and its policies; and, of course, about cinema, where profitability often takes precedence over creation.
The old and the new
To these facts, which are larger than himself, Cédric Kahn has grafted a discourse that we can guess is personal, through a logbook of the shooting that an extra with aspirations of being a screenwriter (Stefan Crepon) keeps. There is indeed a “making of” in Making of. And the “film within a film” becomes “a film that talks about a film about the film”.
What then emerges on the screen is a cruel and moving game of mirrors, where the professional and personal solitude of the worn-out man and the wonder of the newcomer to whom all dreams are permitted are juxtaposed and confronted. It is all the more effective because it is felt, superbly written, embellished with killer lines (“Whose son is he?” asks the disillusioned director, when a not very gifted stranger shows up on his set), carried by a solid cast led by a director who is, himself, in form.
The mise en abyme of Making of are therefore multiple. Fascinating. And even if his scenario gets a little lost in a few more or less accomplished secondary intrigues, Cédric Kahn addresses an eloquent letter to his profession, to his environment. As well as to those who (un)make them.