Review of Rust and Bone (2012) by Matthew H — 29 Nov 2012

November 23, 2012.

Jacques Audiard's "Rust and Bone" knows that life and people are complicated by nature and not governed by any hard and fast rules. Deep down, this is something we all know to be true but are often reluctant to accept because it's simply easier to think things are "supposed" to be a certain way. Yes, life would be easier if everything just sort of fell into place, but also imagine how boring it would be if that was the case. This leads to another thing we know to be true: it's the unexpected and unpredictable that give life and people their appeal, even if they're things we never wanted.

This is one of the underlying themes of Audiard's new film. Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts) is a single father in his late 20s who moves from Belgium to Southern France with his five-year-old son, Sam (Armand Verdue). They move in with Ali's sister, Anna (Corinne Masiero), who performs a series of odd jobs just to make ends meet, including raising and selling dogs. Ali is in a bit of financial trouble himself and has always depended on his physicality and strength to find work. He's a tall, muscular guy and a former kick boxer, so it behooves him to apply for a job as a bouncer. Even if he's capable, it's obvious Ali never thought he'd be doing this for a living, let alone raising a son by himself, but here he is. In a way, he resents Sam for existing, despite him handing most of his parenting duties over to Anna.

One night at a club, Ali breaks up a fight and helps Stéphanie (Marion Cotillard) to her feet. She was struck in the face and is still shaking as Ali walks her to her car. He drives her home and sees that she lives with a potentially abusive boyfriend and wisely leaves his number in case she needs anything.

We know Ali and Stéphanie will inevitably cross paths again, but not under what circumstances. Stéphanie works as a whale trainer at a local water park and it's her job to direct the animals during a live show. One day, a near fatal accident, which is not altogether clear to us (although it doesn't necessarily have to be), sends her to the hospital and she awakens to find both her legs amputated. She descends into a serious depression and thinks she has nothing to lose by calling Ali. Who knows, maybe she just needs to hear a different voice and see a different face. He quickly responds because he likes her-as a friend? As another potential lover (Ali is admittedly promiscuous)? Whatever the reason, he looks beyond her handicap with simple pragmatism and takes her to the beach.

Given this scenario, we might expect one of a few predictable plot developments to take place: 1) Stéphanie almost drowns in the water and Ali comes to her rescue, jumpstarting a romance in which the two learn how precious life is; 2) through Stéphanie, Ali realizes it's what's on the inside that counts; 3) Stéphanie rises above the adverse effects of her condition and become an inspiration to Ali and others around her, giving her a new purpose in life. It would have been safe, and by default, emotional, for Audiard to venture down any one of these avenues, but he isn't interested in being safe; he's drawn more toward the essence and rawness of these two individuals, who could just as well be real people. Ali and Stéphanie are two of the most complex characters we've come to meet in the movies recently, not only because of what happens to them, but because of how they deal with these events and what they learn from them.

While working security, Ali meets Martial (Bouli Lanners), a shady, untrustworthy man who's hired by store managers to set up hidden cameras meant to spy on employees. It's his job to catch workers who might be slacking off or stealing stock. This tidbit of information bears significance later on, but in the meantime, Martial introduces Ali to an underground fighting circuit and Ali, giddy and excited, jumps at the opportunity to take part. He tells Stéphanie he's not doing it for the money but for the simple joy of fighting. Our expectation is that she'll intervene and call such a thing barbaric, but no, she asks to go along, watches and eventually becomes Ali's manager.

As the two become closer and begin to open up about their personal lives, Ali bluntly deems himself "operational" in case Stéphanie wants to have sex and make sure her body still works. The two begin a physical relationship but not a romantic one. To Ali, sex is more biological and mechanical than it is emotional or meaningful. What's refreshing is he's upfront about it and unashamed of his behavior. But Stéphanie can't help but become attached, as most people naturally would.

Where these characters eventually end up is not for me to reveal, but one of the best qualities of "Rust and Bone" is that it's always engaging without succumbing to predictability. True, the story does come full circle in such a way that lessons are learned and Ali finally realizes people are different from things in that they can't be easily replaced. One could argue the ending is contrived, but we forgive it because so much has been leading up to it and it has such a profound effect on us. It's palpable and heartrending and underscored by a very important phone call in which the last line stays with us long after the film ends, as do the characters.

"Rust and Bone" is a layered, insightful film that knows the pain and beauty of being human. Audiard has outdone himself by lending the film a great deal of naturalism. It contains superb performances and even some striking cinematic moments, including an awe-inspiring shot where Stéphanie stands in front of a big tank (more about this, I will not say). Ultimately, it's about people adapting to and learning how to live in a world that's always changing. In other words, it's about real people, which is probably why it's so effective and leaves such a lasting impression.