Sublime aesthetics in Philippe Grandrieux’s Un lac

ABSTRACT

In this article, I assess Philippe Grandrieux’s Un lac (2008) through the lens of the sublime. I offer a formal analysis of the film supported by contemporary theorists who have previously articulated the stakes of Grandrieux’s work in the tradition of narrative cinema. Similar to prior research, my work sets out to understand Grandrieux’s aesthetics and how his filmmaking attempts to engage spectators’ sensory engagements and alter their perceptions of film. Where I diverge is in demonstrating how the theory of the sublime is useful for theoretical understandings of Grandrieux’s films and experimentations with narrative cinema more generally. Specifically, I turn to Un lac’s protagonist Alexi as an anchor to unpack Grandrieux’s experimental cinematography, editing, and sound. Following this, I examine the film through Cynthia A. Freeland’s conceptualization of sublime cinema. I conclude that the snowy landscapes, overwhelming woods, treacherous weather, and fragile bodies in the film work to diminish and dismantle the human figure. I draw on recent theories of cinema and affect to argue that the sublime encourages us to rethink our ontological presuppositions – Un lac posits an alternative to anthropocentrism.

KEYWORDS:

• Affect
• sublime
• film aesthetics
• Contemporary French Cinema
• film-philosophy

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1. For commentary on Burke’s racism and sexism, see Armstrong (2019) and Shapiro (2018, 43).

2. Speaking to Nicole Brenez (2003), when asked whether he is happy with his then new film La vie nouvelle, Grandrieux replies, ‘Yes, very happy. It was made in such a dazzled state of perception, and to see that projected and recaptured gives me great joy’.

3. The parallels to 21^st-century film theory are striking. Recent theorists channel affect theory to consider the ways a film’s narrative, actors, characters, scenes, or techniques cause an initial bedazzlement, even a painful one, and a positive change in a (hypothetical) viewer’s outlook. Among many others, see (Grønstad 2011; Lübecker 2015; Bordun 2017).

4. For details about the inspiration and process of developing the story, see Hainge (2017, 182–187).

5. For Grandrieux, the additional reason for the fairy tale archetypes is to remove questions of morality from the film, again suggesting an emphasis on the immediate engagement with the images and sounds. Chamarette (2012, 215), quoting Grandrieux, personal interview.

6. For my account of Carlos Reygadas’s similar flirtations with experimental cinema and weak narrative, see Bordun (2017, 37–47).

7. For David T. Mitchell and Sharon L. Snyder, disability in literary works is often featured as a ‘narrative prosthesis’ whereby characters with disabilities challenge ‘cultural ideals of the “normal” or “whole” body’ while also operating ‘as a crutch upon which literary narratives lean for their representational power’ (2000, 49–50). Indeed, Alexi’s epilepsy intensifies the sibling drama. Moreover, as I detail in this article, Alexi’s epilepsy may justify some of Grandrieux’s aesthetic choices, demonstrating Mitchell’s and Snyder’s thesis.

Additionally, Dmitry Kubasov may not be epileptic, thus his casting could raise some issues around ‘cripping up’ in film productions. Frances Ryan (2015) aptly writes, ‘[Non-disabled actors] take a job from an actor who genuinely has that characteristic, and, in doing so, perpetuate that group’s under-representation in the industry. They do it for the entertainment of crowds who, by and large, are part of the majority group.’ My thanks to the peer reviewer for bringing these insights to my attention.

8. For my brief criticism of Brinkema’s spectatorless film theory, see Bordun (2017, 169–177).

9. On vomit and revulsion, see Brinkema (2014, 115–151).