La Ville Est Tranquille

Rarely can Moviehouse have looked forward to a movie with less excitement: in fact, the mere opening of the invite was enough to send me dangerously close to the point of coma. French film, 132 minutes, title translates as The Town Is Quiet… surely, this promised a bundle of fun and laughter and merriment? No?

As it turned out, La Ville Est Tranquille very rarely has a dull moment to offer, and although its often overwhelming atmosphere of abject misery should be enough to ward off any casual viewers, it’s a pretty admirable accomplishment all the same.

Set in the bleak, deprived and racially tense urban wastes of Marseilles, the film charts the overlapping lives of a collection of miserable downtrodden souls while keeping a sense of humour and a heart about it at all times. The result, while doomed to commercial insignificance, is well worth the two hours-plus of your time.

There’s quite a lot going on in this ironically titled entity, but the plot‘s structure doesn’t lend itself to convenient summary: suffice to say that for vast stretches of the film it’s practically a one-woman show, as Ariane Ascaride (director Guegiguian’s real-life wife) contributes a tragic tour de force of round-the-clock harassed humanity. Her teenage daughter is profoundly addicted to heroin, and has already produced a baby daughter, to whose care granny is invariably entrusted while the pivotal link between the two lies smacked out of her brains on the floor for the vast bulk of the time.

En route, the film touches briefly if non-committally on the troubled and polarised political situation pertaining in much of southern France, with deeply chilling National Front meetings serving as a stark and uncomfortable counterpoint to the ever-present atmosphere of desolation and urban soullessness.

This isn’t likely to be a great place to bring a first date, but for those sick of the usual Hollywood guff, this is a worthwhile if challenging offer.