This month, the Mayan theatre is featuring “Frantz,” a German-French period piece from director François Ozon (“Jeune et Jolie”). The drama shifts back and forth from black and white to the soft colors of spring in Germany, moving alongside the plot with the elegance of a musical accompaniment. From the greys, blues and sepia fields rise tenors of mourning and forgiveness and the gradual recovery of two war-torn countries and their wounded people.
Set in 1919 Germany, the film begins in a cemetery where a solemn young woman named Anna (Paula Beer, “4 Kings”) has come to lay flowers on the grave of her fiancée, Frantz, who was killed on the front lines in France. Anna sees that there are already roses lying in front of his headstone and comes to find out that they are from a Frenchman. Adrien Rivoire (Pierre Niney, “Un Homme Idéal”) is a French soldier who has travelled to Germany in an attempt to recover from the only real wound he suffered in the war: Frantz.
Although on the surface the glassy eyes and billowing skirts seem to overwhelm the story with tender romanticism, there is a palpable feeling of wariness that underlines each scene due largely in part to the mysterious Frenchman’s presence. Niney gives a stunning performance, evoking the quiet rage of a haunted soldier. He enraptures Anna and the parents of the fallen German man with his fond memories of Frantz and the time they spent together in Paris before the war. He tells them of their trip to the Louvre and of a painting that Frantz especially liked. He only says that it was of a pale young man with his head thrown back. It is not until Anna is in Paris and knows that Frantz and Adrien never went to the Louvre that she sees the painting; it is of a pale young man with a pistol in his left hand and his head thrown back: “Le Suicide” by Édouard Manet.
Ozon—known for his provocative characters and titillating sex scenes—surprised his fans with this film that is neither erotic nor witty but instead quietly and relentlessly mysterious. Secrecy, anger and compassion lie beneath the surface of each scene and beneath the stoney expression of each character, silently urging the plot along at an indeterminate speed that keeps the audience in a constant state of anticipation.
“Frantz” aches with the conflicting sentiments of pride and mourning that weigh upon the shoulders of all who have lost a loved one in the midst of battle. Although historic and beautifully foreign, the film speaks to the universally painful process of choosing to continue living in the wake of devastation.
