Directed by Jessica Hausner. Starring Sylvie Testud, Léa Seydoux, Gilette Barbier, Gerhard Liebmann, Bruno Todeschini, Elina Löwensohn, Katharina Flicker G cert, IFI/Light House, Dublin, 98 min
THIS SLOW, ritualistic, but undeniably fascinating French drama concerning pilgrims to the shrine at Lourdes is, ultimately, a bracingly cynical piece of work.
The surprise is that it’s not cynical about faith, organised religion or (despite our suspicions about the film-maker’s disbelief) the possibility of divine intervention. Lourdes is, rather, pessimistic about how people react to their fellow citizens’ good fortune. When something a little like a miracle eventually manifests itself, the response – from those not apparently healed – is resentment, suspicion and confusion.
Sylvie Testud from La Vie en Rosestars as Christine, a curiously uninvolved young woman with multiple sclerosis. Utilising a colour scheme that stresses the blue of the Virgin Mary and the red of the Order of Malta, the film propels young Christine around a series of enormous Masses, grim parties and visits to the sacred shrine.
Not much happens in the opening hour, but Jessica Hausner, the Austrian director of Lovely Rita, conveys an impressive sense of place. Both the antique grandeur and the sleazy commercialism of Lourdescome across very powerfully.
Equally impressive (and bleaker still) is the film’s depiction of the disabled pilgrims’ social lives. The uninterested nurses and bewildered clerics are never exactly neglectful of their charges. But their gruesome, patronising attempts to stage celebrations remind us quite how joyless the Catholic Church’s notion of (shudder) “fun” so often is. Yes, paper chains are in evidence.
None of this is, however, to imply that Lourdes is a work of satire. Though the film has its sour moments, it is mostly notable for the sober, non-judgmental way it addresses a uniquely odd, curiously resilient institution.
The area's tourist authorities are unlikely to enjoy Lourdes, but they should be aware that, in a meaner director's hands, the film could have been a great deal more caustic. Mind you, nobody is likely to mistake it for The Song of Bernadette.
