Whatever its shortcomings, the premise of The Man in the Basement prods a primal nerve within the context of an important conversation being had in the culture right now. In director Philippe Le Guay’s film, a well-to-do Jewish couple has sold their basement to a seemingly friendly, older man for purposes of storage and business – nothing more, as they insist to everyone over the course of this story. Gradually, the man takes advantage of their kindness in increasingly threatening ways, quickly revealing himself to be a burden on the couple and those who live around them in their complex of homes and other living spaces. Ultimately, the true, ugly nature of the man’s character has been concealed by that façade of kindness.
Fonzic (François Cluzet) is not a good man – not at all. In some ways, he does not pretend to be whatever one’s usual definition of the phrase “good man” might imply. He is opinionated and loud about those opinions when triggered by some circumstance that reminds him to say something about the social politics of it all. He believes the hospitality of his new semi-landlords extends far beyond their potential tolerance of the way he uses the basement space. Beyond that, though, it is the fact of their Jewishness that rests at the center of Fonzic’s twisted and deranged world view, and Cluzet’s performance does not waver from the portrait it paints of a deeply prejudiced man feigning gratefulness amid a ruthless cloud of condescension and racism.
The couple in question is Simon (the great Jérémie Renier, whose sharp, harried, but endlessly compassionate performance is not surprising but surely welcome) and Hélène (Bérénice Bejo), who are patient with Fonzic as they deal with his strange aloofness toward their concerns. To them, it isn’t too much to ask that the man only use the space for storage, as outlined in their agreement. Meanwhile, Fonzic sleeps in a makeshift cot within the space, giving some excuses about a job he just left and a mother he just lost, and uses the restroom on the basement floor of the complex, despite the protestations of those who actually live and pay rent there.
The problems become even more egregious as Fonzic ingratiates himself to Simon and Hélène’s daughter Justine (Victoria Eber), introducing her to his own fringe ideas – namely, questioning the historic record when it comes to the Holocaust, which he dangerously believes was a hoax aided by staged video and audio. Curiously, Le Guay and co-screenwriter Marc Weitzmann (in collaboration with Gilles Taurand) introduce this concept within the story by having Fonzic inform Justine of the often ignored history in the Americas of the great holocaust of Native Americans at the hands of colonialist explorers. The double standard is strange and discombobulating, but it feeds a fascinating and righteously angering character like Fonzic.
Until the third act, the rest of the story becomes a legal battle, as the ownership of Simon’s property is called into question, the rigor of his and Hélène’s agreement with Fonzic regarding the storage space is put under a microscope, and others within the couple’s inner circle – such as Simon’s brother David (Jonathan Zaccaï) – become more and more horrified by the prospect of having to deal with Fonzic in any context, even to conduct legal business. Eventually, Le Guay does overreach in some aspects of the climax, which weirdly heightens the film into genuine thriller territory, despite its otherwise character-centered concerns until that point.
Still, The Man in the Basement works quite well as a study of the already heightened tension between a couple trying to remain happy and the “nice” man whose intentions are bad, informed by something that denies humanity and history, and could lead to something far worse than all that. Through its strong central performances, the movie easily gets itself over a few small conceptual bumps in the road.
Photo courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment
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