I’m very proud that I called this one before I checked, but this film is based on a play. You can tell. There’s just something about the dialogue beats and how the scenes unfold, that indicate this was not designed for the screen. Which is fine, of course, as I think Dune would also make a marvellous stage production.
There’s no physical copy available to buy, in any region, of this beautifully-tiptoeing LGBT melodrama, which is why whomever holds the rights is clearly okay with it being uploaded by someone to YouTube. It’s a nice print, so not pan-and-scan or anything like that. Who knows why copies aren’t out on the street. Despite the potentially-controversial subject matter, there really isn’t anything visually edgy to it. I don’t speak French and there are no English subtitles, so I’m unable to comment on whether the dialogue is offensive or not.
It just doesn’t feel like that kind of film.
It is “very French” though, and I’m sure everyone will understand what I mean by that. It’s so of-its-region, in fact, that I kept expecting characters to regularly clasp the backs of their hands to their foreheads in emotional anguish. I’m pretty sure that happens at some point, I’ll have to watch it again and check. The period is more vague though, as, even though you see a modern car early on, it feels like it’s set somewhere in the early half of the twentieth century.
Choosing not to look-up a detailed plot description of the film, my assumption is that it’s about two homosexual pupils at a residential Catholic boys’ school, already separated within its walls by a minor gap in their ages, who are pulled apart even further when an authoritarian member of staff discovers the boys are in love. While I was concerned this would be a set-up for cliched scenes of brutal corporal punishment and other “moustache-twirling” villainy, I was surprised to find the film is much more subdued than that.
Phew!
I’m not a fan of when a film stoops to cheap tricks to achieve a certain level of drama, which has sadly become quite common in film and television writing over the past twenty years. No, the conflict between the characters here is more rational and patient. There are moments where the script calls for shouting, but it’s never apocalyptic in nature and enough to end a scene. They’re more debates than arguments.
The aforementioned strict member of staff eventually has the older of the two boys expelled and excommunicated by the boy’s peers, doomed to never see the object of his affection again. I sort of like that the two lovers are never reunited, as that would be a little cheap also. The real centrepiece of the film is the final debate between the authoritarian and an older member of staff, who seems to be calling the younger man up on his hypocrisy and being two harsh on the boys. Perhaps this isn’t what really happens, but I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be. Still, if a person watching your film is still enthralled, even though they don’t understand the dialogue, then surely you’re doing something right.
While the photography isn’t particularly showy, there are a handful of standout shots that sneak up on you. The buildings of the school aren’t exploited in a severe manner, instead being utilised as a place people actually live in, rather than where tourists visit.
The boys’ relationship isn’t made physical, other than s small kiss, as this story is about their emotional love, not their lust. Quite a mature angle to take, I’d say. There’s a nastily written biography of William Shakespeare by a religious zealot, who ends his chapter on Shakespeare’s poetry by flatly declaring: “The sonnets are not about buggery!”. Well, neither is homosexuality. Sure, you can engage in anal sex as a homosexual. You can also engage in anal sex as a heterosexual. But to reduce the entire experience of a sexuality to a physical act was tragically ignorant of the author.
This film appears much smarter than that.
There is also the issue of the age of the two young actors involved, which may or may not have been a factor. I just don’t know. But, hey, you’d expect the French to be quite liberal about such things, had the script required them to show more. The film doesn’t feel the need to push the boundaries in that way, it just wants to make a thoughtful point in words, not awkward shower scenes.
The film’s English title, “The Fire That Burns”, is very silly indeed, which is why I didn’t want to use it for this post. The original French title translates to: “The City Whose Prince is a Child”, which is nice and obscure. It’s probably a clever literary or biblical reference, but I’m not clever enough to know the actual origin. Again, I’m sure this is all written down in detail somewhere, but I’m happy for the film just to speak for itself.
Even though I hardly understood a bloody word of the thing.
I don’t know what the note thrown to the older boy as he leaves the school for good says, but I’m happy not knowing that either. Just like the sign language exchange at the end of Three Colours: White and the whisper at the end of Lost in Translation, I find the mystery to be much more engaging.
Be sure to watch the YouTube version while it’s still available, as I’m sure someone will have it taken down soon enough.
I was going to make this a “Framed to Perfection” post originally, but things got out of hand. For shits and giggles, below is the shot I was going to feature. It’s the most action-packed moment in the film, and you don’t actually see it happening. Characters react to something being dropped, then it cuts to the event after the fact. I want to say there’s intentional symbolism in the framing, with natural chaos set against a backdrop of order, but maybe I’m looking too much into it. Still, I like the shot all the same.
Another great moment, when the younger romantic lead is put to sing in a choir wearing his drab day clothes, while the other boys around him wear immaculate white robes, surely implies a “black sheep” accusation.
Again, nice and subtle.
And oh-so terribly French, of course.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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