Father of My Children

Dir: Mia Hansen-Løve

2009

****

Mia Hansen-Løve’s 2009 drama is two things. On one side its an intriguing look at incredible defiance in the face of tragedy and on the other it’s a helpless, but not at all demoralizing, look at how life is so often out of our hands. It’s a tragic tale, where all hope is dashed away, and yet, it isn’t in the least bit disheartening or coldly matter of fact. It’s sad but there is a weird positivity about it that I just can’t put my finger on. It’s a remarkable film, and without wanting to sound patronizing, it’s even more remarkable that it was directed by twenty-seven year old. However, as profound as the film is, Mia Hansen-Løve is part of the story, the story being true. It is in part based on the death of Humbert Jean René Balsan, a French film producer and chairman of the European Film Academy. He was known for securing financing and distribution for diverse and often challenging films. In February 2005, Balsan was found dead in the offices of his production company, Ognon Pictures, in Paris. He was known to have suffered from depression, and sadly hung himself. In this fictional version of the story, we follow Grégoire Canvel (Louis-Do de Lencquesaing) who is a French film producer and chairman of his own film company. Despite his luxurious country home, apartment in Paris and film company he is drowning in debt. We follow Grégoire as he continues to take on more work despite his slate of current films continuing to rack up costs and as he goes home to his family at the weekend, never showing them the situation he is in. For the first half of the film we see his denial but also feel that he’s the sort of person who could probably turn things around. However, upon learning that he is 4 million euros in debt and that his catalogue of films, that is already mortgaged, is only worth less than a million euros, and that his bank refuses to extend him any more credit, he burns his bills and then promptly shoots himself in the street. It’s quite the surprise if you’re not expecting it. In the wake of his death his wife Sylvia attempts to honour her husband's memory by completing the work currently in production. However her attempts fail and she is forced to liquidate the company. Meanwhile, while waiting for her mother outside of the production office, Grégoire and Sylvia's eldest daughter, Clémence (Alice de Lencquesaing), overhears people talking about her father and how he led a double life and had a son from whom he was estranged. While Sylvia is in Sweden trying to secure funding for one of Grégoire's last films, Clémence digs through her fathers papers and discovers he did have a son named Moune to whom he sent money. Though she meets with Moune's mother, Isabelle, she ultimately does not meet Moune himself. On the day the company is dissolved, Sylvia and her three daughters go to Grégoire's office one final time. Afterwards they leave Paris and though Clémence had wanted to visit her father's grave in order to say goodbye, her mother tells her there is simply no time. In the backseat of the car Clémence begins to cry as they pass through the city. In real life, Donna Balsan, who, for all her grief, did her utmost to save Ognon Pictures, but also failed to raise enough funds. I have no idea whether the part of the story involving Grégoire’s secret son was true, but Balsan had three kids and not two, so I suspect it isn’t. What the scenes involving Grégoire’s daughters does is, while being sympathetic, remind us just what happens to those left behind after a suicide. Grégoire’s inability to share his concerns for not wanting to cause concern is also highlighted, again, acting as a sympathetic warning to those thinking of taking their own lives and for those close to people who suspect a friend or loved one is going through a tough time. Hansen-Løve met Humbert Balsan after she had made her first short film and he had originally intended to produce her first film All Is Forgiven before he committed suicide. She cast her cousin Igor Hansen-Løve in the role of Arthur Malkavian, a young screen writer whose film Grégoire wants to produce, giving him an experience similar to her own. It’s an honest tribute, not just to Balsan who was greatly admired, but also to his wife and children who carried on after his departure. The troublesome Swedish director in the film is based on Hungarian director Bela Tarr, who Balsan had trouble with at the time of his death. The important thing that Hansen-Løve addresses though, is that Balsan was a good person, a loving husband and loving father. There is no morbid delight in the evocation of death, instead, this is a look at the essence of one’s soul and how we should not judge a life based on one small mistake. It’s a film that goes against what we’ve come to expect from such subjects and there is something rather profound in its focus ans simplicity. It’s very touching and respectful as well as balanced and refined. The performances, particularly from Louis-Do de Lencquesaing, Chiara Caselli and Alice de Lencquesaing are perfect and there is visual flare here that is beautiful but it never distracts from the story. It’s a profound gem of a movie.