There are some very pretty scenes in Will, the most recent film by Denys Arcand. Bright scenes, full of poetry, which remind us why Arcand is a monument of Quebec cinema. We have often praised Arcand the dialogue writer. The filmmaker of Decline of the American Empire and of Jesus of Montreal is also a talented director.
The character played by Marie-Mai, a young woman who visits a disenchanted septuagenarian in need of affection every week (Rémy Girard), is shrouded in a golden light, like the Mary Magdalene in a painting by Georges de la Round. The faces of young Aboriginal people light up around a lacrosse field in Kanesatake. The rollers of two house painters come together as they erase the last traces of a piece of history.
Arcand imposes a rhythm on the story that is his own. He films the Quebec autumn, a metaphor for the twilight of life, with the same elegance as in Barbarian invasions. However, unlike those of Barbarian invasionswe do not attach ourselves to the gallery of characters of Will. They do not have enough depth, flesh, humanity to allow us to do so. Some pass by in a flash, the time for a response in a sketch (special mention to the duo of Marcel Sabourin and Clémence DesRochers).
To the truth of frank emotion, Denys Arcand too often prefers the effect of sardonic style in his increasingly reactionary thesis films. Also, Will presents itself as a series of hackneyed sketches that sometimes seem taken from a Bye bloated, around a main plot nevertheless full of ethical dilemmas and dramatic potential.
Jean-Michel (Girard), a semi-retired archivist, lives in a seniors’ residence targeted by activists for respect for First Nations. They refuse to leave the premises until a 19th century fresco has been removed.e century that they consider offensive, depicting Jacques Cartier and indigenous leaders half-naked. The responsible minister (Caroline Néron) demands that the director of the RPA (Sophie Lorain) immediately resolve the problem of these publicized “Indians” who are harming the reputation of her government.
To the complex questions of respect for the history of art and the history of a people victim of cultural genocide, Denys Arcand chose to respond with soft satire and simplistic caricature, discrediting with conventional cynicism all the demands of activist groups, indigenous and others. A brief appearance by Robert Lepage seems to sum up Arcand’s point of view on the controversy surrounding the pieces SLĀV And Kanata.
Will begins by ridiculing a fictitious Quebec Prize ceremony, named in homage to pioneers of Quebec culture and awarded almost exclusively to young women with improbable compound first names. Among the clichés of feminist followers of intersectionality, we find of course a veiled Muslim and the “author” of the poetry collection Vaginas on fire. In terms of female characters, Arcand has been more interested for 40 years in the stereotype of the young luxury escort…
PHOTO PROVIDED BY TVA FILMS
Sophie Lorain and Rémy Girard
We know the refrain, delivered here in the form of an interior monologue by a disillusioned baby boomer, who awaits death between an “insignificant Quebec film” (his words) and a walk to the cemetery. Jean-Michel’s entire lament was drawn from the litany reserved by the most embittered representatives of his generation for those who followed.
It’s the broken record of commonplaces on theHomo quebecensis of the historical majority losing its bearings, privileges and Latin expressions, which feels restricted by the recognition of rights to discriminated minorities. The guy who confuses political correctness with changing morals, feels threatened by MPs sitting with babies and regrets that millennials haven’t read Of grammatology or seen Andrei Rublevtoo busy getting tattoos and drinking sangria on the terrace.
Arcand knows how to capture the spirit of the times so well that he makes a hilarious comment on gendered toilets… “ Hashtag irony”, as young people don’t say. We will of course say that he makes fun of everyone, which is not false. He gently mocks himself and his generation, the techno-deficient elders or the returning Sunday cyclists who brag about their mileage. The fact remains that he has his favorite targets, to whom he deals more blows than others.
Ridiculing the bureaucratic gibberish of a minister is not the same as mocking the demands of groups ostracized for generations.
The amount of gossip Arcand has about young activists (or disengaged young people, depending) seems to matter more to him than the coherence of his scenario. It depicts an improbable romance between two quasi-strangers (who speak to each other as in the Victorian era) or even an affectless family reunion after decades of separation. So that the crux of a plot is credible in the 21st centurye century, it can hardly ignore the existence of a search engine as banal as Google…
Between the all-out pessimism of his alter ego Jean-Michel and the relative optimism of the end of his film, one wonders where Denys Arcand is going with this. In one scene, he peppers the speech of a nationalist MP who is worried about the Louisianaization of Quebec with clichés. In the credits, he films a Cajun group performing the (very beautiful) traditional song to which the chosen one refers…
We come out of Will with the impression that nothing finds favor in the eyes of Denys Arcand in this “peaceful province of a boring country without scope”, as Rémy Girard’s character says. The filmmaker has this mania for placing himself above the fray (and his society), like the character of Machiavelli by Jean-Pierre Ronfard in Comfort and indifference. Jean-Michel ends up paying lip service to the fact that he will have to take an interest in the climate crisis. Denys Arcand, for his part, seems to be saying: After me, the flood.
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