Review: Ismael's Ghosts

Ismael's Ghosts / Les Fantômes d'Ismaël
Cert: 15 / 135 mins / Dir. Arnaud Desplechin / Trailer



Well, fair play to them; the twelve other people in the screen 1 on a Saturday afternoon certainly pretended to appreciate the fuck out of the subtitled French character-drama, Ismael's Ghosts.

We follow our eponymous protagonist (Mathieu Amalric), a enthusiastically deranged film director, failing to come to terms with the disappearance of his wife Carlotta (Marion Cotillard) two decades earlier, and with a longstanding resentment of his diplomat brother Ivan (Louis Garrel). Through all of this, Carlotta's father (László Szabó) also seeks solace from Ismael, and the two become trapped in a loop of non-closure. Ismael struggles to maintain a constructive relationship with Sylvia (Charlotte Gainsbourg) his equally troubled girlfriend of two years, and the delicate balance of their home-life is thrown into disarray when Carlotta suddenly returns, seemingly without explanation. What follows is an interweaving character study of grief, regret and forgiveness.

And I don't think it's as interesting as I've made it sound.

The aforementioned dozen viewers stroked their chins throughout, but even with a crowd that size I could feel tension in the room. Despite having a plethora of plot-points thrown at me from the word go, I stopped trying to figure out what the hell was actually going on at around the 80-minute mark. Perhaps I was missing some small but crucial element by following the subtitles, perhaps it's a broader, cultural thing*¹.

Considering the movie is meant to be about the different facets and foibles of Ismael, we spend an awful lot of time seeing everyone else's point of view. Quite often, Ismael's Ghosts is like watching a couple arguing in a restaurant. You don't want to stare, you can't look away, and ultimately you just wish they'd do it somewhere else. There's a quietly compelling emotional drama in here somewhere, but it's struggling to be heard above the unlikeable characters. It's like a film made by an uneven succession of directors, each of whom had something different in mind.

And in the middle of the self-satisfyingly bold confusion comes a song by Bob Dylan, almost literally the guy who pulls out the acoustic guitar at the party you're diplomatically wishing would just end.

I don't have the energy or inclination to hate Ismael's Ghosts, but I have no idea what it's for.

Oh, I have no idea.



If anything, it's a Sunday evening DVD at best.



If you know what you're letting yourself in for, sure.



I have no idea.



Possibly.



There isn't.



Level 2: Charlotte Gainsbourg is in this, and she was in that 21 Grams along with Benicio 'DJ' Del Toro.





*¹ Try as I might, I can't seem to get on with contemporary French cinema. Which is a shame, but there we are; can't just pretend to like something to look cool. Well I can't, at any rate. ^{[ BACK ]}

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