A review by Jeffrey Overstreet
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Erick Zonca’s first feature—The Dreamlife of Angels— is a gem.
On paper, it may not sound terribly inviting: the story is a simple one about two strangers who become fast friends and then struggle to maintain that friendship the more they learn about each other. But on the screen, two unforgettable characters are revealed, and the truth resonates powerfully through their stories.
In other words, while viewers must be warned that the film contains some shocking and difficult content (there is some explicit and excruciating stuff here), The Dreamlife of Angels is probably going to remain my favorite film of 1999.
Isa, a young, spontaneous, wandering spirit, comes looking for a friend, only to find he has gone off to Bulgaria, leaving her a stranger in a strange corner of France seeking some reason to remain. She takes a job at a sewing factory – a tiresome job that will, nevertheless, put some change in her pockets – and settles in to see what life will bring her. She finds a reason to remain in Marie, a quiet, uncommunicative woman who, to Isa’s discerning eye, is in need of a friend that will soften her hardened spirit. Their frustrations with work, men, and poverty strengthen their friendship, so that when temptation and trouble arrive they are able to support and encourage each other. Isa’s persistent generosity, interest, and openness to the jaded Marie breaks through the layers of Marie’s mysterious history and forges a bond that makes them a fascinating pair.
To make matters more interesting, Isa learns that their flat does not belong to Marie, but to a comatose car-accident victim, a girl named Sandrine, who will probably never return to the place. Isa’s boundless curiosity and her quickness to care about others leads her into another unexpected friendship… she develops a deep concern for Sandrine and takes up a regular vigil at the unconscious in-patient’s bedside. In Sandrine’s life, Isa is the angel who stays by her bedside, even though Sandrine is oblivious to her presence. In Marie’s life, Isa is the guardian angel who whispers wisdom and comfort in her ear, who lures the feeble light in Marie’s heart back into her voice and her face.
But the differences that make this friendship slow-starting also threaten its fragile balance.
Marie’s layers come from wounds, undoubtedly. But she seems compelled to return to damaging situations, which both maims and humiliates her further. Embarrassment and shame begin building a wall between her and Isa, and then fear grows as well, as they both feel the bond between them cracking. While Isa’s other significant friend is a comatose victim who needs love, Marie’s other friend is self-absorbed, abusive, and arrogant. (Be warned: There are graphic scenes of disturbing, violent sexual interaction between Marie and her lover. Some may disagree, but I’d argue that the scenes are not gratuitous. They are crucial and revelatory, giving the audience a wordless unveiling of the dark secrets that have wounded Marie, and that draw her again into damaging and devastating relationships.)
Natacha Régnier delivers a bold, multi-layered performance as Marie, making her a woman who can be tough and explosively angry, and a moment later she can be beguiling, vulnerable, tragically broken. She will break your heart.
But the performance of Elodie Bouchez, in the less-demanding role of Isa, somehow haunts me many days after seeing the film. Her generosity, spontaneity, and contagious joy are virtues not of a simpleton… She is not, in other words, Forrest Gump. She is wise, experienced, and yet exudes an almost supernatural lightness, so that she can turn a job as a roller-skating sandwich-board advertiser into a ballet of childlike joy, and yet we believe that she understands fully what is happening to her complicated friend, and that her heart is deeply burdened by things she only suspects about those around her.
Much of the power of Zonca’s film comes from its resolute refusal to evoke feelings from the audience with any tools extraneous to the story. There is very little music in the movie; you anticipate its arrival in emotional moments, but it does not come, leaving you alone with the characters in the privacy and specificity of their joy or their despair. Zonca camera lingers on the faces of the characters. Sometimes the close-ups draw us so near to the characters that the actions around them become unclear and bewildering; yet their effect on the characters remains unquestioned.
It’s a simple story, but Régnier and Bouchez reveal far more complicated personalities in the middle of it than we are trained to expect by the oversimplifications of most modern movies. In this world, no choice is without consequences, for good or ill. And one’s desires and feelings are not the answer to all problems, as Hollywood likes to proclaim. Contrary to the gospel of Titanic and Pleasantville, following one’s passion can lead to terrible damage. But passion governed by compassion and responsibility… that is a power to be reckoned with. This is a story about how love reaps more fulfilling rewards than indulgence.
In essence, Bouchez’s Isa is truly angelic. She comes seeking shelter and food, and yet gives those she encounters profound blessings beyond their wildest dreams. As she sits dressed in white working at an insulting and cruel task, she makes you wonder about her origins, and about where she will go next.
In the end, for both Isa and Marie, their dreams will turn on their willingness to be compassionate and to act selflessly. The lasting masterpieces of storytelling, whether in literature or on the silver screen, are made of such stuff. And, as the last shot of the film so clearly suggests, such tragedies and triumphs can be found in the stories of everyone, even the total stranger sitting next to you.