The Girl on the Bridge (La fille sur le pont)
February 16th 2010 04:38
Patrice Leconte’s dazzling The Girl on the Bridge (1999) comes alive in black and white. It’s stylish and evocative, but episodic like a half-remembered dream; pulsing with dangerous energy, but drifting further from reality as it progresses. From a detailed opening monologue - interspersed with questions from a faceless inquirer - we learn that Adele (Vanessa Paradis) has led an aimless existence, trapped in a meaningless cycle of promiscuity.
One night she decides to put an end to it all by taking a leap off a bridge. Only fate intervenes when Gabor (Daniel Auteuil) suddenly appears by her side. Mockingly he points out the folly of her actions, the waste of a young life with so much still ahead. Gabor has been here many times before - plucking young girls from the jaws of an anonymous death. It’s certainly an interesting method of recruitment for a cabaret performer, a man who throws knife with stunning precision.
All his assistants, it seems, have been women close to the edge, lost in a tussle between instincts of life or death. Gabor is able to talk Adele out of her drastic course of action with the offer of a job but though he acts blasé, as though either her indifference or receptiveness is of little consequence, he too is a man on the verge of desperation. Finally she accedes, though hardly knowing why.
Their first performance together is a spine-tingling sequence deepened by its genuine suspenseful nature. But for a tiny nick, a successful union is born, but it has broader connotations too: a magic elixir has been stirred, the pair invoking a perplexing leniency from fate - the kind of luck that has long eluded Adele certainly, and Gabor of late as well. Together they wow audiences, but having conquered can either preserve their new-found success if divided?
The Girl on the Bridge, a hypnotic meditation on the whims of fortune, is one of Leconte’s very best films, and one of his most frenetic too. Jean-Marie Dreujou's camera manages to capture this world with energetic, fluid hand-held work that reflects the tumultuous change of fortune of its characters. Everything speeds up once Gabor takes Adele under his wing and the film pulses with a striking rhythm, especially in the first half.
A unique spin on romantic connections, it manages to convey the strange affinity these two people share without resorting to a kind of eroticism that requires consummation to give it depth. The bond that forms between Gabor and Adele has fanciful origins, becoming almost supernatural in nature. From the moment of their first success, like a perilous test run at the margins of providence, a strange, elusive synergy is created.
They’re like the two halves of a torn note that Gabor carries around with him symbolically, forever in search of the person capable of helping restore the note to its original state. In Adele, he has found the perfect foil, but realigned by a sense of purpose, will she decide to flee and set her own course again? She attracts suitors like flies, and Gabor seemingly regards with philosophical inevitability the notion she will stray sooner or later, halting their gilded run.
Whimsical, funny and stirring, The Girl on the Bridge is a breathtaking ride while it lasts. The glossy, neon-soaked visuals are a perfect match for the upbeat, big-band source music and sublime use of Marianne Faithfull’s Who Will Take My Dreams Away? as the pair push the boundaries of chance in their act, whether alone in a train carriage or before a captive audience.
The odd but not-quite-beautiful Paradis, a pop-star turned actress, has an indefinable quality that makes her so interesting to watch here, whilst Auteuil has never been better, commanding the screen with every word. A decade on, Leconte's film has aged like a fine wine. It’s still an alluring, potent mixture of offbeat romance, fabled drama, and fanciful meditations on the role of chance, with a pinch of the fantastical tossed into the mix – in the form of a communication mode that transcends the physical world, providing magic, both illusory and cinematic.
One night she decides to put an end to it all by taking a leap off a bridge. Only fate intervenes when Gabor (Daniel Auteuil) suddenly appears by her side. Mockingly he points out the folly of her actions, the waste of a young life with so much still ahead. Gabor has been here many times before - plucking young girls from the jaws of an anonymous death. It’s certainly an interesting method of recruitment for a cabaret performer, a man who throws knife with stunning precision.
All his assistants, it seems, have been women close to the edge, lost in a tussle between instincts of life or death. Gabor is able to talk Adele out of her drastic course of action with the offer of a job but though he acts blasé, as though either her indifference or receptiveness is of little consequence, he too is a man on the verge of desperation. Finally she accedes, though hardly knowing why.
Their first performance together is a spine-tingling sequence deepened by its genuine suspenseful nature. But for a tiny nick, a successful union is born, but it has broader connotations too: a magic elixir has been stirred, the pair invoking a perplexing leniency from fate - the kind of luck that has long eluded Adele certainly, and Gabor of late as well. Together they wow audiences, but having conquered can either preserve their new-found success if divided?
The Girl on the Bridge, a hypnotic meditation on the whims of fortune, is one of Leconte’s very best films, and one of his most frenetic too. Jean-Marie Dreujou's camera manages to capture this world with energetic, fluid hand-held work that reflects the tumultuous change of fortune of its characters. Everything speeds up once Gabor takes Adele under his wing and the film pulses with a striking rhythm, especially in the first half.
A unique spin on romantic connections, it manages to convey the strange affinity these two people share without resorting to a kind of eroticism that requires consummation to give it depth. The bond that forms between Gabor and Adele has fanciful origins, becoming almost supernatural in nature. From the moment of their first success, like a perilous test run at the margins of providence, a strange, elusive synergy is created.
They’re like the two halves of a torn note that Gabor carries around with him symbolically, forever in search of the person capable of helping restore the note to its original state. In Adele, he has found the perfect foil, but realigned by a sense of purpose, will she decide to flee and set her own course again? She attracts suitors like flies, and Gabor seemingly regards with philosophical inevitability the notion she will stray sooner or later, halting their gilded run.
Whimsical, funny and stirring, The Girl on the Bridge is a breathtaking ride while it lasts. The glossy, neon-soaked visuals are a perfect match for the upbeat, big-band source music and sublime use of Marianne Faithfull’s Who Will Take My Dreams Away? as the pair push the boundaries of chance in their act, whether alone in a train carriage or before a captive audience.
The odd but not-quite-beautiful Paradis, a pop-star turned actress, has an indefinable quality that makes her so interesting to watch here, whilst Auteuil has never been better, commanding the screen with every word. A decade on, Leconte's film has aged like a fine wine. It’s still an alluring, potent mixture of offbeat romance, fabled drama, and fanciful meditations on the role of chance, with a pinch of the fantastical tossed into the mix – in the form of a communication mode that transcends the physical world, providing magic, both illusory and cinematic.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Auteuil was right at the top of his game here, he's brilliant and has some great lines too. Paradis definitely has something about her but I don't think that weird gap-toothed smile is particularly attractive.