This film really challenged me. It made me reconsider my well-worn habits of movie viewing, my lazily rendered moviegoer inclinations. Utterly mundane in its realism, a slice of life if there ever was one, "The Son" by brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, is a film about forgiveness, the kind buried deep within the dull folds of a man's tedious day-to-day existence.
Oliver is a stern, expressionless carpentry teacher at a trade school for reformed youth transitioning into civil society. His thick glasses obscure his eyes, nonetheless his presence is startling in its austerity. A new student, Francis, becomes enrolled, one that Oliver takes a bizarre interest in, to the point of obsessively monitoring him both in and outside the workshop.
At this point in the film I'm thinking to myself: "So is this guy a pedophile? Is he looking to molest this kid?" I had much to learn.
As the movie progresses we learn that Oliver's young son was killed by Francis, an incident that happened five years prior, with which both he and his estranged wife are still coping. After learning this, all of Oliver's actions take on a different meaning. They are now to be scrutinized in a compassionate, yet discerning way. Up to this point I had been desperately trying to apply tried and true suspense scenarios to this film, which never did stick.
Oliver treats this boy like a son, however Francis is completely oblivious to the man's knowledge of his crime. He pays special attention to the boy's improvement. He is demanding, yet fair in his disposition. He eventually takes Francis out to a remote lumberyard so that he may learn to recognize different types of wood.
Now I'm all: "Oh man, he's totally going to exact sweet, sweet revenge!"
Here again I was thinking too simply. What follows is an elegantly paced final sequence, one that moved me beyond words.
There are many things that make this film work. There is no musical score, only the harsh sounds of power tools and clacking wood. There are hardly any cuts. A hand-held camera follows Oliver around voyeuristically at very close range, almost always over his shoulder. The viewer becomes part of the guilt-ridden cloud of claustrophobia strangling a broken man's conscience. The plot arc is pretty flat-line, but the amount of nuance in the acting is breathtaking. Most of the time Oscar and Francis are completely deadpan, yet the subtlest mannerisms imbue these characters with hyper-realistic depth.
This film is slow, but skillfully so. In the first half we are subjected to the minutiae of carpentry instruction, slightly enticed by Oliver's strange behavior towards Francis. But once we come to learn about the murder of Oliver's son, the behavior that was once dull suddenly becomes lush with significance. I was rapt with anticipation from then on out, dissecting each twitch and gesture.
This film really captivated me, but above all made me a more mature audience member.
Oliver is a stern, expressionless carpentry teacher at a trade school for reformed youth transitioning into civil society. His thick glasses obscure his eyes, nonetheless his presence is startling in its austerity. A new student, Francis, becomes enrolled, one that Oliver takes a bizarre interest in, to the point of obsessively monitoring him both in and outside the workshop.
At this point in the film I'm thinking to myself: "So is this guy a pedophile? Is he looking to molest this kid?" I had much to learn.
As the movie progresses we learn that Oliver's young son was killed by Francis, an incident that happened five years prior, with which both he and his estranged wife are still coping. After learning this, all of Oliver's actions take on a different meaning. They are now to be scrutinized in a compassionate, yet discerning way. Up to this point I had been desperately trying to apply tried and true suspense scenarios to this film, which never did stick.
Oliver treats this boy like a son, however Francis is completely oblivious to the man's knowledge of his crime. He pays special attention to the boy's improvement. He is demanding, yet fair in his disposition. He eventually takes Francis out to a remote lumberyard so that he may learn to recognize different types of wood.
Now I'm all: "Oh man, he's totally going to exact sweet, sweet revenge!"
Here again I was thinking too simply. What follows is an elegantly paced final sequence, one that moved me beyond words.
There are many things that make this film work. There is no musical score, only the harsh sounds of power tools and clacking wood. There are hardly any cuts. A hand-held camera follows Oliver around voyeuristically at very close range, almost always over his shoulder. The viewer becomes part of the guilt-ridden cloud of claustrophobia strangling a broken man's conscience. The plot arc is pretty flat-line, but the amount of nuance in the acting is breathtaking. Most of the time Oscar and Francis are completely deadpan, yet the subtlest mannerisms imbue these characters with hyper-realistic depth.
This film is slow, but skillfully so. In the first half we are subjected to the minutiae of carpentry instruction, slightly enticed by Oliver's strange behavior towards Francis. But once we come to learn about the murder of Oliver's son, the behavior that was once dull suddenly becomes lush with significance. I was rapt with anticipation from then on out, dissecting each twitch and gesture.
This film really captivated me, but above all made me a more mature audience member.