Mati Diop and Gregoire Colin in Claire Denis' "35 Shots of Rum"
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French filmmaker Claire Denis’ 35 Shots of Rum is a movie about personalities that straddle the fringe—a heartfelt story about a firm yet unique bond between father and daughter and the people that exist around that bond.
35 Shots of Rum is a movie that very effectively utilizes the moving, meaningful power of subtlety, exploring its immense possibility to create emotion. The film captures and then uses the beauty of the non-verbal, using it as a springboard for its emotional substance, much like the photographer that uses a still image to express what cannot be said, only felt. We first see these kinds of things in the very beginning of the movie as Lionel (Alex Descas) stands beside a Paris rail line at dusk observing and contemplating his quiet, somewhat somber surroundings. What is created in the films’ opening shots are two very important things: the overall mood of the film and the instantaneous unveiling of a man’s personality. As the camera pans to Lionel standing and smoking, the strong sensation of a man contently concealed in his own personal introversion and introspection becomes apparent. It is not an introversion that is misanthropic, nor is it one that shuts him off in a way that is counterproductive. It is a kind that keeps him motivated and content, especially since he shares it with someone who is probably the most important thing to him: his daughter, Josephine.
Josephine (Mati Diop) is Lionel’s passion in life, as well as his lone counterpart to his personality. Josephine is a beautiful girl that seems to be in her early twenties. She exudes maturity and responsibility: two attributes that were most likely prompted by an upbringing by a deeply devoted and caring father. Together, Lionel and Josephine live a lifestyle outside of what most would consider typical. They’re content in their seclusion and introversion, and they’ve created a lifestyle for themselves that keeps them satisfied. Lionel has become accustomed to a pattern of familiarity: he drives a train on a Paris rail line (a job that perfectly complements his character traits; he sits alone in the conductor’s booth, quietly reflecting, contemplating and observing). When he returns home, Josephine is there to greet him, removing herself temporarily from her studies to talk to him and eat dinner. Two other tenants in their apartment building are also part of this familiarity in a way this is tangential to Lionel and Josephine but relatively removed, even if it is only by space.
Noe (Gregoire Colin) and Gabrielle (Nicole Dogue) share a bond with Lionel and Josephine that exists by possessing lifestyles that are also peripheral in nature. Noe is elusive—both physically and characteristically—and has strong feelings for Josephine. He is rarely home and relishes in the memory of his deceased parents by inhabiting the apartment they once lived in and not changing a thing inside of it. Gabrielle lives alone and drives a taxi for a living. She was once Lionel’s lover and at one time spent a lot of emotional energy over a young Josephine. As a result, a unique relationship exists between them, and one can tell it is something they have come to rely on. This aforementioned bond could not become clearer to the viewer than during what I feel to be the most powerful, telling scene of the entire film:
After Gabrielle’s car breaks down on a botched attempt to see a concert, the four of them seek refuge from a storm at a local café just before closing time. The owners cook for them and let them stay long enough to wait out the storm. Shortly thereafter, music begins to play and they begin to dance. It is here that Denis uses the aforementioned power of the non-verbal to convey emotion and intent. The climax of the scene happens when we hear The Commodore’s “Nightshift” in a scene of incredible beauty between Noe and Josephine. Here, two important things happen. Noe finally confronts his own feelings for Josephine. As this happens, Lionel confronts something different: a dilemma. As he watches Josephine and Noe dance, he realizes that it might be best to finally let Josephine go. After years of living within a pattern of familiarity with her by his side, he begins to notice that his comfort must be sacrificed in order to let Josephine live her life and reach her full potential—even if as a start it’s the simple exploration of a relationship between his daughter and Noe. What happens in the rest of the film simply has to be viewed. I would be doing a huge disservice if I were to explain any further.
35 Shots of Rum is powerful, simple and incredibly moving. On imdb.com, one user review uses the phrase “ordinarily spellbinding.” I could not agree more. It is a movie about people and the things that connect them, cause conflict and create epiphanies or dilemma. There is no judgment placed on any character for any action by the filmmaker. It’s a movie that simply explores a group of people, what they share and what they must do to continue. It is about life. From a technical standpoint, its pacing is perfect. Some might find it slow, but it adds to the feel of the movie, creating a flow that is complimentary to the actions and characteristics of the people it is portraying. At the end of the film I felt a sense of warmth and satisfaction, and it’s a movie that grows on you with time and deliberation. My first viewing was great. My second was one of sheer pleasure and deep admiration for a filmmaker, her method and her actors. This is why I love film.
