Rust and Bone (directed by Jacques Audiard)

Jacques Audiard follows up his 2009 critically acclaimed film A Prophet with this bruised tale of love and redemption. Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts) is a drifter, a penniless scoundrel who turns up at his sister’s apartment in Antibes after leaving the North of France with his neglected five year old son Sam in tow. The mother is not part of the equation; she appears to be as inept at parenting as Ali, having used her son as a drugs mule. To make ends meet, Ali takes a job as a bouncer at a local nightclub, leaving Sam mostly with his sister, partaking in casual sex but also continuing to train in boxing, which he previously showed promise in. One night at the club he breaks up a fight, meeting the headstrong Stephanie (a mesmerising Marion Cotillard) in the process. A brief attraction is made but nothing more, however when Stephanie suffers a terrible accident at the marine park where she works as a killer whale trainer, she finds herself inexplicably reaching out contact with Ali. Without any question or fuss, Ali begins to help Stephanie, spending time with her, taking her to the beach and offering her uncomplicated sex, when she wonders whether she still can after her amputation. Stephanie finds Ali’s indifferent attitude to her disability liberating and accepts his offer, a tender yet undefined relationship is formed between the pair who both need something from each other, although with Ali, what he needs is not as clear at first.

 

Rust and Bone is a film that on first synopsis read sounds like the stuff of overly wrought melodrama but in the hands of Audiard it becomes something striking, visceral, poetic and above all wholly real. The direction is both immediate at times, confined and direct, but also dreamlike, swirling in a haze of blue. The cinematography blends together so astutely that often one scene ends and another begins with realising it, the use of light and sound is also used to heightened effect. The depiction of sex in the film also shows a contrast between the raw physicality that Ali exhibits with his one night stands and the tenderness he displays with Stephanie, at her insistence, though she also imposes a no kissing rule, retaining the control of the situation. The scenes of Ali and Stephanie having sex are progressive and vital to the film, showing a woman with a disability enjoying herself sexually that is rarely, if ever, seen on screen.
In a role which could, in other hands, be excessively dramatised, Marion Cotillard as Stephanie is astonishing, she is able to say so much without saying anything at all, her face encompasses so much emotion, it is used to devastating effect. In one scene, where Stephanie is being fitted in her cast for her prosthetic legs, she smiles at her sister, then the camera cuts back to her, as a single tear falls down her face, it is subtle yet heartbreaking. Ali, is more of a problematic character, he is selfish and rude and his treatment of his son at times is unforgivable, yet his honest and abrupt manner is somehow intriguing. Matthew Schoenaerts manages to make Ali highly unsympathetic yet we still want and care for him to change, even though this question hangs in the balance constantly.

The third act of the film seems a little contrived and suffers from the absence of Stephanie, Cotillard has inhibited the character so well that you miss her whenever she is not on screen. However by this time, the film has crept gradually upon you and gotten beneath the skin and is one that will stay with you for days to come. Audiard has masterfully crafted an enthralling drama, skilfully written with captivating performances and spellbinding cinematography. The soundtrack beautifully enhances the film; it even manages to make a Katy Perry song have some meaning. Rust and Bone is a stunning achievement for all concerned, one that shows from the depths of despair, a new sense of life can be found, even in the unlikeliest form.