35 SHOTS OF RUM
Directed by Claire Denis
Produced by Bruno Pesery
Written by Denis & Jean-Pol Fargeau
Released by Cinema Guild
French with English subtitles
France/Germany. 100 min. Not Rated
With Alex Descas, Mati Diop, Nicole Dogue & Grégoire Colin 
 

35 Shots of Rum features director Claire Denis's signature understatement, as well as her dogged insistence on the audience's intellectual and emotional investment.

The film opens with a protracted montage of trains moving slowly across the outskirts of Paris, announcing Denis's deliberate, contemplative pacing. A commuter train conductor, Lionel (Alex Descas in a marvelously laconic performance) lives a quiet, isolated existence with his daughter, Joséphine (Mati Diop), an undergraduate student. Even as we're shown the tenderness between the two, Denis somehow gets across that the quietude obscures a growing disillusionment.

Later, we're introduced to two neighbors who play a part in their lives: Gabrielle (Nicole Dogue), a cab driver, who once had a love affair with Lionel and still harbors a desire to recapture the passion between them, and Noé (Grégoire Colin), who pursues Joséphine. Denis is slow to develop these relationships, but the wealth of tiny details we learn along the way pays off in the later half of the film, when unspoken tensions slowly surface.

What is most endearing and bittersweet about Denis's method is her ability to capture the pain of remaining stagnant without ever once seeming fatalistic, bitter, or melodramatic. Melissa Anderson of The Village Voice astutely mentioned Sam Mendes' abominable Revolutionary Road, citing the film's histrionics and supercilious, self-help moralizations, as a contrast against the refreshing lack of affectation found in Denis's work.

Another notable aspect of 35 Shots of Rum is its pointed focus on African communities in Paris. But perhaps more relevantly, it addresses the lives of Africans not in a political, but in a humanitarian way. Denis is more interested in the struggles of everyday life, the struggles of close family and friends than in the more overarching conflicts of race against race or class against class. Such personal battles are highlighted even further in the relationship between Lionel and a close friend, who receives a lavish retirement party with an all-too-clear reluctance.

 Without divulging too much of what happens, there is a highly memorable sequence in the middle of the film in which the four main players end up unwittingly spending time together in a local bar. The choreography between actors is remarkable, and the nuances of the relationships are given almost painful attention without the benefit of dialogue. Rich Zwelling
September 26, 2009