Polisse

Maiwenn's excellent police drama Polisse follows the Parisian Child Protection Unit, expertly weaving officers' personal and work lives. Maiwenn plays Melissa, a quiet photographer who is more of a cipher than a fully drawn character, but she serves as the audience's eyes. The force is filled with more dynamic characters, including Joey Starr's passionate Fred, Karin Viard's insecure Nadine, and Marina Fois's bitter Iris.

The workers are dedicated professionals, but that isn't to say they are patient or polite. Often more intimate with their peers than their lovers, they are more reliable parents than spouses. Plagued with alcoholism, depression, and neuroses, there is a sense that our heroes could explode at any time. In fact, many of them do, and their rants about the trials of their job are repetitive but believable. In spite of the numerous storylines, careful editing and naturalistic, sometimes unbearably raw, acting distinguishes the various characters.

This work is neither easy nor cut-and-dried. Suspects range from tearful to unrepentant, and the young victims sometimes don't want to be torn away from their abusers. Relationships between the officers are also intense and complicated, whether they are platonic friendships or romances, repressed or consummated. In spite of the harrowing subject matter, characters often mask their pain as humor, and there are rare moments of relief and pure jubilation.

While some plots are underdeveloped (this would have been a fascinating miniseries), the film manages to follow quite a few stories as well as touch on broader issues such as bureaucracy and cultural clashes. The conclusion is simultaneously inconclusive, heavy-handed, and effective, suggesting that these prickly workers struggle through life and sacrifice themselves for the children. Aided by hand-held camera work, the gripping Polisse feels real.

French with English subtitles.

Of Gods and Men

Inspired by John Kiser’s nonfiction book The Monks of Tibhirine, Of Gods and Men is a moving depiction of French monks living in Algeria in the tense 1990s. This film features the darker parts of human existence, including fear and despair, and yet is more about goodness than evil.

Locals invite the monks to tea and celebrations. One monk, the amiable Luc (Michael Lonsdale), is a doctor who sees a constant stream of patients and occasionally passes out clothes as well as diagnoses. The brothers take turns gardening, sometimes pausing to appreciate the scenery. The film’s soundtrack consists solely of what the monks hear, which is mostly beautiful liturgical music.

Their peaceful life is threatened by terrorism and the legacies of French colonialism (mentioned only briefly). They debate whether they should leave and save their lives or continue to help the villagers and possibly die. This question is more difficult for some than others. One of the youngest, the middle-aged Christophe (Olivier Rabourdin), struggles with his faith. Even Christian (Lambert Wilson), the handsome and headstrong leader, has troubles, reaching out to nature in times of contemplation.

The characters have a deep love for one another, and both religious and nonreligious audiences can identify with the monks’ search for answers and fulfillment. Characters are subtly drawn and acted. The lovely countryside is shot in natural light, reflecting the monks’ inner turmoil or joy. Their simple lives are evoked in snatches rather than drawn out scenes, making the movie’s pacing slow but not tedious.

Of Gods and Men is emotional but not dramatic. Its message of forgiveness comes across as neither naïve nor patronizing, and its statements about tolerance in relation to Christianity, Islam, and religion in general are particularly timely. This uniquely lovely film is unsentimental but tender, gentle but powerful, and refreshing in every sense of the word.

French with English subtitles