Review of Look at Me (2004) by Mister C — 24 Aug 2005

[b]Look At Me[/b] is a particularly insightful look at the effects of presumptuousness in relationships. Lolita is the daughter of a famous author, and considers herself neglected. Her father Étienne divorced her mother when she was very young, and has remarried to a much younger woman, Karine, whom she sees as a 'trophy wife' who is seemingly fixated on her weight, aggravating Lolita's own insecurities about her weight problem. She seeks a creative outlet in singing, and desperately seeks independence and recognition as an individual, rather than simply as Étienne's daughter. The rest of the tale involves other supporting characters intertwining with Lolita's family, namely Sylvia, Lolita's singing instructor, and her husand Pierre, a struggling writer, perpetuating the condemnation and uneasiness, while at the same time nurturing a budding romance with Sébastien, a young graduate seeking a start in journalism.

What is made known immediately, from the first scene of the film, about Lolita (and subsequently the other characters) is the tendency to immediately judge a person based on their action or inaction. Either they are passive and uncaring when she is seemingly rebuffed, or they are smothering when attempting interaction. Additionally, people's character is valued often through passive observation or third-party conversation, not direct involvement, namely Sylvia's judgement of Étienne. Through this skewed perception, people believe what they want to believe, and often, the other party allows that perception to remain intact. For example, Lolita's judgement of Sébastien as being involved with her simply for easy access to her father is initially left uncorrected as Sébastien is greatly hurt by her presumptions. It's easier not to confront that misconception, but it simply perpetuates the misunderstanding, particularly when the characters relay their feelings to others. Lolita's desire to simply be seen as an individual stems from the tendency of others' perception of her to change simply from knowledge of what label she's been applied (as the daughter of a famous author), rather than who she really is. There are parallels to this in all the other main characters.

Through this, the characters are willing to create personal tragedies to which they believe no one can relate, when deep down, they really do. They want affection and understanding in their strife, even if it is not asked for, but the other party is hesitant towards the tender and the reticent. This ties into the willingness to let false perceptions of character perpetuate; there is a desire to make oneself a martyr. Through this martyr complex, there is a hesitation to accept that desired affection and understanding, even when the other party is stretching outside themselves and making a great effort to reconnect. It's only at that moment where one takes a step out of this mire of loathing that that reconnection can be made. It's a moment of emotional epiphany for Lolita, in this case, parallelling the creative epiphany with Étienne, who had been incapable of writing during a majority of the ordeal, as he made a connection through the music of Lolita and Sylvia. The final song is a perfect fit for the transformation outside of words that is experienced at the story's denouement.

Agnes Jaoui and Jean-Pierre Bacri have written a delightful script, with plenty of subtle humor, and very much in touch with human nature. The naturalistic dialogue fits the ensemble performances deftly, with standout acting by Marilou Berry, Laurent Grévill, Keine Bouhiza, and Jaoui and Bacri themselves. The cinematography by Stéphane Fontaine is colorful, yet tender, and always beautiful. The choral music is equally delightful, and put to poignant symbolic use. [b]Look At Me[/b] is one of the most pleasant surprises of the year, and is well worth seeking out.