Matthias Schoenaerts as Vincent in “Disorder” foto: phoenix.org.uk
It’s something special when a nearly full theatre of movie lovers is seeing a film they know little about, when they don’t have reason to expect much, but then get a delightful surprise. I wanted to attend some films for the annual French Institute Festival, but my schedule was such that Disorder was the only one I could fit in. And it was a late afternoon showing, so there was no Q and A with the director or one of the actors. Also, the brief summary in the Times led me to think it was a clinical study of a French soldier with PTSD.
Not quite. Directed by Alice Winocour, who co-wrote it with Jean-Stephane Bron, Disorder is a scary, sexy political thriller that had people literally jumping out of their seats. Belgian actor Matthias Schoenaerts plays Vincent, a soldier who was sent home, traumatized and near catatonic, after a tour in Afghanistan. Although he wants to go back, we can tell, just from the expression on the army doctor’s face, that this will never happen.
But he still believes he’ll go back. While waiting, his buddy gets him a job. He is part of a heavy security detail at a luxurious soiree in a mansion, where top French politicians are among the guests. In this extended night sequence, Vincent struggles against a cacophonous onslaught of stimuli: the insults of guests, multiple camera set-ups that stream a total view of the estate, snippets of conversation from possible terrorists and, frustratingly, the many beautiful, expensively dressed women in attendance. Most beautiful of all, though, is the host’s wife, Jessie, played by Diane Kruger. Vincent becomes even more alarmed when he overhears part of her husband’s conversation with a mysterious foreigner.
Diane Kruger as Jessie in “Disorder” foto: blogs.indiewire.com
But the real action begins on his next assignment. He will stay with Jessie and her five-year old son while her husband is away on business. He’s told he’ll just stand guard and chauffeur them; a “babysitting” job. But then, after nearly half the film’s length, a single terrifying scene changes our entire involvement with the story: what had been a question of whether a disturbed veteran is able to separate the real world from paranoid delusions turns into the fear that his mental instability will prevent him from protecting a woman and her child in danger.
The suspense is well-maintained, and the action scenes are riveting. You can see Winocour’s debt to the terror/suspense masters, Hitchcock and Polanski, but even more impressive is the neat way she uses the maguffin. Just the words “arms dealer” are enough, and she follows Hitch’s commandment: never, never explain it. One quibble, though: having all the thugs wear full face masks leads to diminishing returns. They start to resemble overfed ninjas who can’t fight.
Winocour also knows what she wants from her star. Schoenaerts has that simmering menace that is useful for bad-guy roles (scary) and as the hero (sexy). Charles Bronson had it, but Schoenaerts is closer to French action star Jean Reno, to whom he bears a resemblance. It’s the kind of role where you’re never quite sure – until the end – whether he wants to slug his leading lady or to kiss her.
Like all good “B” pictures, it follows certain rules associated with the genre. With a strong, near-silent male hero, and the requisite “lady in distress”, it resembles many other male-centered actioners. You can say it was a good career move for Winocour to show that a woman can handle this kind of story and have it be as satisfying as those made by male directors. But then she gives it a nice “feminine” twist at the end. It justifies why Winocour had wisely kept Vincent’s and Jessie’s growing sexual attraction in deep subtext; they never reveal it. Also, for nearly all of the film, Kruger is shown as passive and almost totally dependent upon men, with Vincent dominating instead of her husband. But suddenly, in the film’s last moments, she makes a fateful decision that puts both their lives in danger. It is unexpected, but it neatly resolves both the sexual as well as the political themes of the story. And, tellingly, it sends a gift to feminists who go wild whenever a female character is allowed to demonstrate what is now one of their favorite words…”empowerment”.
Subscribe to FilmFestSalon here:
