The sixties was a constantly-changing decade that would shape the mould of Western culture today. It’s easy to look back on exactly what shifted the tectonic plates of British and American culture, and many historians will tell you that it influenced all facets of media surrounding the period. But the film buffs and cinephiles out there will be quick to tell you that cinema as we know it was brought about from what we call The French New Wave. France has many claims to fame in the film industry, but none are more prolific than the revolt of the French movie buffs against the politicians that tried to quiet the artform. It wasn’t all to do with the film industry, but it very much started from the closing of the Cinematheque Françoise; a famed cinema-house. With this movement, many famous French directors would bring about an age of independent and artistic vision known as the French New Wave.
How is this all relevant to the film I’m talking about, you may ask. Well, the director of the 2003 film, The Dreamers, is Bernardo Bertolucci, an Italian director that studied in France during the riots. He was so inspired by the likes of Francois Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard that he tailored his own films in the same vain. His most infamous work is Last Tango in Paris, but there is one film of his that is barely talked about outside of hardcore cinephiles.
The Dreamers sees the middle-aged Bertolucci reflecting on his youth. No longer fascinated with the aged protagonists of his prior films, he now wishes to encapsulate the youth of the French movement. It’s a film that recounts this exact period in some of the most detailed ways. Trying to encapsulate the sex, politics and, most importantly, cinema of the time, it reminds the audience of the very reason artistic vision is still so strong today. A story that is told in an uncomfortable yet beautiful way, this is Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Dreamers.
Set in 1968 (the epitome of the protests), we meet an American named Matthew (Michael Pitt) who has travelled to Paris to study film. Largely indifferent to the riots going on, he eventually runs into twins, Theo (Louis Garrel) and Isabelle (Eva Green) who are major film buffs themselves. Both claim to be strongly against the government an its desire to shut down the cinema, and hold onto strong Communist views. The three teens find solace in one another and begin sharing in their love of the artform. Theo and Isabelle invite Matthew to stay at their apartment while their parents go out of town. This deep friendship soon blossoms into something far more disturbing.
Matthew soon learns that the twins have more than a sibling-bond with each other, finding them in bed together one night. Though Matthew doesn’t bring this up to them the next day, he does begin to become wrapped in the erotic fantasy that the twins are in. The three escape into a world of film obsession, living like children without responsibility. They play sexual games with one another, re-enact film scenes, and Matthew begins to question how far this will go. All the while this is going on, the twins insist that they’re dedicated to the cause, but they show little effort in partaking in the protests.
I don’t think there was any possible way for me to ease into the whole incest sub-plot. It’s not easy subject to stomach, and I certainly wasn’t expecting this going in the first time. As heavily focused as it is, many often don’t talk about this aspect. If anything, I think this speaks to how strong the themes of artistic voice and the persistence of cinema is.
This film is like an ode to anyone who likes to look outside of the cliché Hollywood structure. Many film buffs can probably relate to that idea that cinema is a voice that stands out above almost every other medium, and Bertolucci is here to remind us that that passion doesn’t fade. We see numerous scenes of the characters recreating moments from their favourite films, often accompanied by clips from said films, and they also heavily debate directors and actors. As somebody who has followed in education in film (I wouldn’t be writing these reviews had I not), I can tell you that this is very much the type of thing we would often do. I’m not talking so much a full-on re-enactment of scenes, but constant quoting and passionate debates were aplenty.
What you end up appreciating most about these characters is their clear admiration for the medium. To be that young and free is something you cherish later on in life. There’s a period in time when you’re at your most emotional, pouring every ounce of heart into the subject you love more than anything. These characters, flawed as they are, are endearing in this sense. We see a symbiotic relationship unfold before our eyes, and from it a bubble of escapism is created. But as much as Bertolucci is looking back on this time period with a sense of nostalgia, he also understands that he needs to move forward: to live in the present.
As much as this film can exist as a conduit for our own feelings of longing for the past, it does come with the reminder that we must grow. Matthew is initially just as hypnotised as the twins, willing to live in this three-way relationship entirely. Once he has spent time seeing how the two are too reliant on each other, and by observing the violence around them, he begins to question everything.
The twins’ relationship is a hard thing to justify. You go through different emotions as the film progresses: you feel a little uncomfortable at how close they are but excuse it for the French simply being more affectionate, then you’re shocked to find out that your suspicions were correct, then you start to just accept what they have, even if you’re still put off by it, but then you realise that this is doing more damage and the reality of everything comes crashing down. I think this course of thinking is the main reason very few critics even mention the whole incest thing. You do learn to accept it, because this relationship isn’t the real focus. There’s a whole “war” going on outside, and the twins don’t seem to see themselves as distant from it.
The characters are very strong. Matthew is basically this conduit for the world around him. I write with the assumption that only fellow Brits will read my review, so you’ll understand that feeling of being a genuine foreigner looking into a completely different culture. Theo and Isabelle are likable characters, both filled with charisma and pure class that only the French have been able to accomplish. The way they move, their casual waving-off of any hang-ups. There’s even a sweetness to the immaturity of the characters, even if you don’t agree with what they’re doing.
There’s a very stark point about taking action. It’s all well and good to say you support this and that, but until you actual make an effort, you’re a mere spectator in the fire. As singularly focused as the film can appear, there’s a clever encapsulation of everything that was happening at this time. These characters claim that they love cinema to the extent that they will protest and carry around posters of Communist idealists, but there’s very little they actually do. Matthew, the foreigner in the situation, gives us the same sense of second-hand devotion that I’m sure Bertolucci himself had during this time.
I mentioned how this movie encapsulates much of the overall politics, sex and cinema of the era. The cinematic parallels are obvious and presented in a clear way that flat-out tells us what is being attributed. And even with the immature fantasy world these characters live in, you do still feel this sense of cinematic dedication. There’s a scene where the main characters recreate a moment from Band of Outsiders, where they run through the the Louvre. There’s also a scene where they debate who was better: Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton. These seem like only minimal moments in a film so focused on a lot else, but they contain moments that allow the viewers a moment of escape. As much as we want to see these characters grow, you can’t help but smile at their joy, get involved with their expressionism and be part of the film’s universe. Bertolucci is becoming one with the film, putting a hand on our shoulders with a relatability that can only be expressed by an artistic vision.
The political aspects are also important to the internal organs of the film. This movement started more humbly, but it grew into something far more necessary for France’s culture. People were protesting for freedom of speech, for expressionism in all forms. Bertolucci himself was an active part of these protests and became friends with the directors that inspired him. But he doesn’t necessarily agree with every aspect of the protests. There’s a point in the film where Matthew debates reverently with Theo over the correct way to protest. Theo is strongly supportive of Communism, whereas Matthew believes there is a middle-ground. Theo’s response to this is to try and choke out Matthew, all because of differing opinions. Bertolucci makes it clear that this side of the protests represented a darker direction they eventually devolved into. The police, as rough as they were and as deplorable their actions were, caused a similar response of complete carnage. We forget just how much change was brought about from these riots, but it’s something that echoes in modern culture.
The sexual aspect of the film does have its importance. Many can brush off the incest subplot as some sort of disguised fetish, but it does serve an allegorical purpose. The twins represent this idea of unified passion. The two are never actually show to have sex with each other, but they are shown to be closely linked. By Matthew having sex with Isabelle, he becomes part of them. The sixties did bring about an era of free love, and while France didn’t have the psychosis-induced imagery of the hippies, it did carry its own message of free love. There’s a level of intimacy that cannot be explained simply, and you end up accepting it. There are so many moments of the three characters just existing with each other. As lost as they all are, there is a sweet atmosphere to it all.
This is one of the clearest, yet most dreamlike reflections of a director’s work I’ve seen. While perhaps not perfect, suffering from an uneven pace and sudden switches in atmosphere, the film does manage to stand out as something unique. Not only does it provides a distinct story, but it also serves as an important history lesson for those who even simply enjoy a good movie every now and then. Modern cinema evolved from this movement; it’s why we had so many experimental pieces during the seventies. While perhaps you may get more out of a documentary in that sense, to have somebody who was actually there, and to provide a fictional story in the middle of this, it heightens the aritstic value of the event more prominently.
The Dreamers may not be remembered the way Bertolucci’s other films have been, but I quite like that. It’s like a little obscure gem that I can pull out whenever people ask me for film recommendations that might take them out of their comfort zone. The Dreamers will allow you to escape into a world of pure childlike escapism, but it won’t let you stay there forever.
Written review by Conor Johnson.