SPOILER-FREE REVIEW
A wonderfully slow-burning drama, Frantz won’t be to everyone’s taste, but excellent acting and cinematography mean it communicates its surprisingly relevant message with great skill.
I wasn’t sure what to think of Frantz. Deep down, I’m only a casual moviegoer and I tend to look at arthouse films with both caution and scepticism. Frantz was a movie I enjoyed, despite the language barrier. Part of the reason our site has such a busy schedule is because a surprising amount of stuff flies into our local cinemas every Thursday. Some of it is good, some of it not so much. Frantz is a very different film in that it immediately strikes you as an artist’s work. It was made at the hands of people who view filmmaking not as a financial enterprise, but as a noble craft, something akin to hand-crafting instruments. It has more in common with a painting than a blockbuster.
Frantz takes place in the immediate aftermath of the First World War. A young German woman by the name of Anna (Paula Beer) is mourning the death of her husband-to-be Frantz alongside her in-laws. One day, while bringing Frantz flowers, she meets a mysterious Frenchman by the name of Adrien (Pierre Niney) at the graveside. Intrigued by his mysterious connections to her now-dead fiancé, Anna discovers that Adrien has come to Germany to pay his respects and locate Frantz’s parents.
Once again, I can’t say much without spoiling the film. Strangely enough, while watching it, I couldn’t help but get déjà vu. Even though there are many unexpected moments throughout, I couldn’t help but think I’d seen a similar plot somewhere before, at least in a broader sense. There are plot twists and they work wonderfully, but in outline it seemed familiar. Even predictable. However, the fact that you might guess where the film is heading early on doesn’t do much to diminish this film’s achievements. It’s a wonderful exploration of grief, suffering and hope, especially in the aftermath of horrendous conflict. It makes it clear that on both sides, people suffer greatly from war. It shows the serenity and peace that can come from reconciliation.
It goes slowly but surely, burning away slowly over time. These days, films that take their time rather than rushing from one plot point to the next are disappointingly rare. Its message about rejecting irrational xenophobic hatred has only gained significance. With the centenary commemoration of Armistice Day just around the corner, its message is timely in more ways than one. The film’s leading duo Paula Beer and Pierre Niney are nothing short of fantastic. Through body language and careful voice, Beer captures a realistic take on grief that goes beyond simply roaming the halls weeping. While she mourns her dead lover, her life is not entirely joyless. There are moments where she feels happiness, and moments where she sinks low. On his part, Niney transforms the stereotypical war veteran character into something else more poignant and striking. This veteran’s dedication to Frantz is admirable and intriguing. You want to know more about him seemingly by instinct. Together they suffuse the film with a powerful kind of melancholy, and lend this love story the bittersweetness that comes from bonding over shared grief.
A brief word about script. This film was made jointly by German and French people, and both languages are featured prominently, as are both countries. A lot of films that include people speaking foreign languages treat said languages as an unfortunate afterthought, something to add to lend their work more authenticity. In that sense, the bilingual nature of Frantz is definitely a curiosity on first viewing. It certainly adds to authenticity, but perhaps more importantly, it gives you the distinct impression that it wants its message to be taken seriously. This is a film that crosses borders, it says, the power of reconciliation and rejecting hatred is of immense importance in our own lives.
Visually, this film also stands out. The very first films were released in black and white. That wasn’t a choice, but a matter of technological limitation. The vast majority of films these days are full colour. Black and white is extremely rare. Again, the people behind this film assert their view that filmmaking is an art. The choice of black and white in times when cinemas compete to boast about who has the biggest, most realistic screen is a bold one. This film makes use of both to enhance the themes of its story, using black and white throughout but transitioning to colour when Anna or Adrien are experiencing those rare moments of happiness. It’s a brilliantly devised way to create and improve on a sense of mood. Music is used to wonderful effect. The film incorporates both piano and violin to build emotion, and perhaps it acts as a homage to the rich music traditions of Europe.
It’s not for everyone. Those who like to avoid a little pretentiousness in their movies (this film is a little arthouse, even for me) or casual moviegoers who like to find thrills in car chases and spies dangling from the undersides of helicopters best find something else. This film is slow, even ponderous, but that is deliberate. It is a slow burn. Its story, while admittedly predictable, appears simple at first glance, but on closer inspection it has layer upon layer of meaning. Its message is striking in its relevance. Its cinematography is unique. You get the impression that this is the work of many craftsmen. Frantz is perhaps best appreciated as an artwork.
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