Many films have been made involving trials, and many films have been made involving a potentially suspicious death and mysteries that ensue thereafter about who was--or wasn't--responsible, or even if foul play had happened at all. Yet Justine Triet's strikingly profound new film "Anatomy of a Fall" shatters many of its expected genre conventions to create a genuinely unique, compelling, and enthralling cinematic experience rooted in the legal thriller genre, but taking on a distinctly character-driven and interpersonal identity to craft a uniquely engaging and compelling narrative.
The film is set in a chalet in the Alps, and centers on Sandra (an outstanding Sandra Hüller,) a writer married to her husband Samuel. The couple has a young son Daniel, whose vision is impaired. After a gripping initial scene depicting the titular fall, in which Samuel plunges to his death out the window. Sandra is suspected of murder and put on trial. From there, Triet's direction and writing seamlessly blend thriller-like dramatic tension with a character-driven understanding of the tragic downfall of a marriage and the deep personal flaws of the two affected individuals. Most of the main characters in the film are completely dynamic, and grow and change throughout the story both during and outside of the trial. This character development is brilliantly integrated into the screenplay like clockwork, including clever uses of flashbacks, foreshadowing and other narrative devices to provide further contextualization of the situations characters found themselves in--not to mention such uniquely engaging characters makes the film's 150-minute running time fly by. The emotional and psychological impact of the trial on Daniel, the only surviving witness in the family, is also depicted in an emotionally layered and intricate way that calls for the viewer to both empathize with him as well as understand the shortcomings of his parents. Another uniquely engaging part of the film is the cultural differences displayed in a trial in France in comparison to how a similar trial might unfold in the United States.
The film's cinematography is strikingly effective and significantly complements the narrative at hand. Shots of the Alps in and around the chalet are simply gorgeous, while back-and-forth cuts during the courtroom proceedings and flashbacks are effective. In many ways, the tone that the cinematography sets is reminiscent of the film's tone as a whole: mature, calculated, thoughtfully in touch with its characters, and unpredictable. "Anatomy of a Fall" doesn't provide easy answers around its characters, nor does the film let them hide in the shadows. But such a dichotomy is precisely a key reason why the film is so superb in the first place. It's a film open to different interpretations, perspectives, and sympathies, in part because it is acutely aware of the ethical and interpersonal gray areas in situations such as that depicted in the film--and by coming to terms and depicting the ripple effects of such gray areas, both the dramatic effect and cumulative emotional effect on the viewer is uniquely striking. I cannot recommend this film highly enough to thoughtful film lovers. 10/10.
The film is set in a chalet in the Alps, and centers on Sandra (an outstanding Sandra Hüller,) a writer married to her husband Samuel. The couple has a young son Daniel, whose vision is impaired. After a gripping initial scene depicting the titular fall, in which Samuel plunges to his death out the window. Sandra is suspected of murder and put on trial. From there, Triet's direction and writing seamlessly blend thriller-like dramatic tension with a character-driven understanding of the tragic downfall of a marriage and the deep personal flaws of the two affected individuals. Most of the main characters in the film are completely dynamic, and grow and change throughout the story both during and outside of the trial. This character development is brilliantly integrated into the screenplay like clockwork, including clever uses of flashbacks, foreshadowing and other narrative devices to provide further contextualization of the situations characters found themselves in--not to mention such uniquely engaging characters makes the film's 150-minute running time fly by. The emotional and psychological impact of the trial on Daniel, the only surviving witness in the family, is also depicted in an emotionally layered and intricate way that calls for the viewer to both empathize with him as well as understand the shortcomings of his parents. Another uniquely engaging part of the film is the cultural differences displayed in a trial in France in comparison to how a similar trial might unfold in the United States.
The film's cinematography is strikingly effective and significantly complements the narrative at hand. Shots of the Alps in and around the chalet are simply gorgeous, while back-and-forth cuts during the courtroom proceedings and flashbacks are effective. In many ways, the tone that the cinematography sets is reminiscent of the film's tone as a whole: mature, calculated, thoughtfully in touch with its characters, and unpredictable. "Anatomy of a Fall" doesn't provide easy answers around its characters, nor does the film let them hide in the shadows. But such a dichotomy is precisely a key reason why the film is so superb in the first place. It's a film open to different interpretations, perspectives, and sympathies, in part because it is acutely aware of the ethical and interpersonal gray areas in situations such as that depicted in the film--and by coming to terms and depicting the ripple effects of such gray areas, both the dramatic effect and cumulative emotional effect on the viewer is uniquely striking. I cannot recommend this film highly enough to thoughtful film lovers. 10/10.