An epic-length, but still condensed, adaptation of Honoré de Balzac’s serial novel of the same name – published in parts over the course of six years between 1837 and 1843 and as part of the great author’s anthological collection of novels that made up The Human Comedy – co-writer/director Xavier Giannoli’s Lost Illusions captures the spirit of its source material through a canny control of tone and atmosphere. The novel was almost overwhelming in how thoroughly it detailed the decadence of life in France just when capitalism was taking hold and had already exerted its influence over the profession of journalism. The film takes much of that detail and adapts into narration, delivered in nearly every scene and for nearly 90% of the film’s runtime by its protagonist.
This might seem from afar to be a didactic approach, but in fact, Giannoli and co-screenwriter Jacques Fieschi’s decision to move toward narration – often a manipulative device, including in some passages here – is a quietly brilliant one. A more traditional approach to the story being told might have exposed it for the feverish melodrama and blunt satire that it obviously wants to be. By forcing Lucien (Benjamin Voisin) to lead us through the narrative in speech, the filmmakers narrow the focus onto his perspective of these events. It helps, too, that Voisin is up to the task as both actor and orator, giving a performance that shifts from idealistic to opportunistic to devastated with absurd ease.
As the sprawling and far-reaching story begins – which anyone who read and loved the novel will remember – Lucien Chardon finds himself enraptured by the prospect of writing, both in the journalistic sense and in fiction. His latest piece has inspired an attempt to find publication, and eventually it lands in the lap of Étienne Lousteau (Vincent Lacoste), a newspaper editor who takes a shine to young man but also feels it is his duty to open his eyes to how the real world works. Everything is for sale, including and especially within the writing world. At Le Satan, Lucien will learn just how corrupt writers are under the thumb of the illiterate and tyrannical Dauriat (the great Gérard Depardieu), who instructs his literary critics – and bribes those of opposing publications – to deliver conflicting reviews of the latest novels.
The first act of this story chronicles Lucien’s gradual loss of naivete and his realization at just how cruelly opportunistic he can really become. He quickly rises among the ranks within Dauriat’s outlet and eventually finds himself “reviewing” the latest work of literature by Nathan d’Anastazio (Xavier Dolan), an assignment which genuinely introduces him to the worldviews held by Dauriat and Lousteau alike: One does not need to read the book one has been assigned to review. The nice, hefty payment of at least 300 francs should paper over that quite nicely.
Unfortunately for nearly everyone involved, Lucien comes to use his mother’s maiden surname, “de Rubempré,” rather than his father’s given name, while making his contacts and mingling in his little grandiose parties – much to the chagrin of his ex-lover Louise de Bargeton (Cécile de France), who discovers his charade after he takes up with theater actress Coralie (Salomé Dewaels). It was only sex, a lot of it, with Louise, but with Coralie, it looks a lot more like love. That makes his eventual journey beyond the point of return even harder to witness, as he seeks more power to sway the masses and makes a few, very wealthy enemies in the process.
The story of Lost Illusions is as old as storytelling itself. It’s about a man who loses his soul on the way to find fame, only to discover he may not have had a soul in the first place. Balzac, of course, was one of the great authors to take such a story and place it within both a historical context and a deep reservoir of thematic resonance. With his adaptation, a grandiloquent spectacle of costumes and art direction and swooning romance and gutting tragedy, Giannoli has done about as admirable a job as one could possibly hope to tackle such an endeavor.
Photo courtesy of Music Box Films
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