Rosetta

The Dardenne brothers were not incorrect when they called their Palme D'Or winning work "a war film.". It is an unremitting portrayal of the most dire hardships, centred around Rosetta (Emilie Dequenne), a young, spirited girl who battles with desperate tenacity to find a job and not so much escape as merely survive in her surroundings. Her life is a bleak struggle for subsistence in a world devoid of tenderness, in which her mother (Anne Yernaux), a quasi-prostitute more concerned with the source of her next drink than her daughter, stands as an example of the potential results of such continued deprivation. When she is befriended by a waffle vendor (Fabrizio Rongione), her prior existence leaves her unsure of how to act in the presence of an affectionate, concerned face, and when he attempts to teach her to dance, she can do no more than move jerkily without rhythm, uncomfortable in the arms of another human. The arisal of an opportunity to take his job forces Rosetta to confront whether physical necessity can ever be an excuse for the betrayal of others.

What follows is a superbly wrought piece of social realism, unsentimental in its examination of the dehumanising effects of poverty. For Rosetta and many others in analogous situations of the most dire physical hardship, their material deprivation leads to an erosion emotional and mental qualities. The Dardenne brothers' ruthless directional style, laced with close-ups and unpleasant details, tangibly conveys the dirt and drudgery of Rosetta's impoverished life. Indeed, the film is palpably cold, almost painfully explicit in its depiction of an uncaring world. In addition, Dardenne's performance, for which she won the Best Actress Award at Cannes, brings to life with understated excellence her fight, not to live well, but simply to survive by any means in a world that, for her, contains few hopes and no love.

The Dardenne brothers make no excuses or apologies for their presentation of Rosetta's base strivings, delivering a film that charts how far individuals can fall. Consistently raw and at times brutal, the film nevertheless proposes no answers, expects no sympathy, it merely conveys and evokes with a clear, uncompromising eye the bleak struggle for existence that is, for some, the total of what life has to offer. Harsh, but utterly compelling viewing.

Have you seen the 1948 Italian classic "Bicycle Thieves"? Yeah think that, pumped up on crack. This is "Italian neorealism" but set in Belgium a half century later.

The character "Rosetta" is a 16-year-old girl who lives in a camper with her nearly catatonic, alcoholic mother and is, as the filmmakers say, "a thin aluminum wall away from living on the streets". The fact that Rosetta is barely an adolescent who is thrust into the role of provider and responsible adult is a clever twist that further turns this social statement upside down. It becomes not just a tale of survival but terrifyingly a coming-of-age flick. Rosetta is socially and emotionally stunted, unfinished and handicapped. It's fascinating to see Rosetta (excellently played by Émilie Dequenne who won Best Actress at Cannes) attempting to grasp concepts of morality and ethics even though she has clearly had no guidance. There is a certain wild animal quality to her which you will immediately feel, and though she is tough and headstrong, she is still just a teenager who doesn't know how to dance, doesn't know what a "friend" is, and whose only reality consists of obsessively trying to find a legitimate job because she feels that's the coveted symbol of having a normal life.

In that respect, this film provides something we can all apply to our lives whether we're 16-year-old homeless kids or rising corporate execs. It's the idea that an obsessive pursuit of some type of social status, or social achievement, or even a relationship, is what we cling to as proof that we have a "normal life".

In a memorable scene our protagonist Rosetta talks herself to sleep by whispering, "Your name is Rosetta. My name is Rosetta. You found a job. I found a job. You've got a friend. I've got a friend. You have a normal life. I have a normal life. You won't fall into the abyss. I won't fall into the abyss. Good night. Good night."

The camera remains very tight, almost claustrophobically so, on Rosetta throughout the entire film which exaggerates the microscopic world she lives in. She repeats routines and engages in trivial labors which are shown to us in almost tedious repetition, but the effect is powerful in conveying a sense of quiet, lonely desperation.

Throughout the history of cinema, there have been many films that document "how the other half lives" but most of them approach the subject as if we are spectators, almost in a patronizing or voyeuristic way that leaves us thinking after the credits roll "phew I'm glad that's not me" but here in "Rosetta" we get a sense that the bizarre life of this 16 year old outcast might very well be the story of the human race.

I found this film quite effecting without ever straying into crass sentimentality. Rosetta is a young girl who is full of anger and yearning. She lives with a dysfunctional alcoholic mother in a caravan park. Little is given about her past but we can understand that due to her upbringing she has limited options available to her. Her desire to be find a job (any job) is both desperate and touching. For Rosetta the prospect of a job, even a job that many in middle class society (indeed the average art house cinema goer!) might regard as mundane and without prospects, represents to her a chance to escape the existence on the outskirts of society. Her drive however raises her above the mere status of victim, and it is a credit to the lead that she conveys so much of this, without it having to be spelt out.

One thing I did find a little disconcerting was the wobbly camera technique, don't see if you are feeling a little nauseous as I was however this is only a minor criticism. Its around 90 minutes and I think well worth the investment if you like a good character based movie.

Sometimes you see a work of art and it knocks you out - it's all you can do for days and days to come to get it out of your mind. And you try to find a way in your mind to bring yourself closer to it, immerse yourself in it. You'll read everything about it that you can, try to find some more of the artist's work, find everything you can to do with it. All this to try and replicate the feeling that you experienced when you first encountered the piece. This is the effect that I've been trying to achieve since I saw Rosetta at 1999's London Film Festival.

Though some have attributed Rosetta's success at Cannes to the last-day syndrome; whereby the film that stays freshest in the panel's minds is the one that wins, it smacks of cavilling to suggest that this is the reason behind Rosetta's success - the simple fact is that it's a remarkable film which was only seriously rivalled this year by Almodovar's All About My Mother. Ignorance and snobbery have constantly been at work when Rosetta has been considered by critics, since it's a film which has divided the critics.

Top of the list of things-to-hate about Rosetta is the Dardennes' decision to shoot hand-held, an objection which I can understand but barely comprehend. Rosetta is a film which follows its heroine. Therefore, by mounting the camera almost on her shoulders, we see the world as she sees it, just as we see the world as she thinks it throughout the rest of the film. Most perfect is a scene when she is lying in bed at the house of Ricquet, her (only) friend, when she reassures herself that she's normal, she's found a friend, a *true* job and that she won't fall into the hole. Seldom is a more perfect and more touching marriage and explanation of the inner-self and its outer-conflicts achieved? - it's just magnificent cinema.

Rosetta is a fighter, but although her conflicts are with individuals, in a literal, physical sense, the metaphorical struggle is with the societal brick wall which she comes up against when trying to forge 'une vie normale' for herself. She's fighting against society for the right to live a life; she's fighting against society for a modicum of dignity. In this way, Rosetta is both existentialist and political, though never overtly, much to the credit of the Dardenne Brothers, since Rosetta is a 'universal' film.

The question which Rosetta poses is how we can release ourselves from the trouble we are in. Rosetta believes, and has been taught to believe (ironically, by society) that the way that she can achieve this dignity is by getting a 'true' job - so much so that she phones her boss to tell him that she won't be at work before her suicide attempt. She doesn't see that it's through Ricquet, not through having a job (his job) that she stands the best chance of forging a true identity, a true life and true dignity.

Rosetta is, in effect, just a proletarian hero, fighting society for the right to live and the right to work. However, to see the film in this way is reductionist in the extreme and is self-defeating. Rosetta is, above all, an individual. Her victory is to see that she has a friend who was there all along, and this gives us a remarkable ending that is full of drama; packs a considerable emotional punch and is unforgettable, thanks especially to a stunningly naturalistic performance by Emilie Dequenne, who won an award at Cannes for her portrayal of Rosetta. Her interpretation of the eponymous heroine lends so much to the film that she is as much responsible for the brilliance of the film as the directors are.

This film will never be a hit with middle-class and middle-class, middle-brow critics it in the same way that Schindler's List and The English Patient were; the bourgeoisie never want to get their hands dirty. It's their loss; Rosetta is quite simply one of the most wonderful films you'll ever see.

Most movies try to make you feel good. Even in the most violent or despairing films the writers always provide some sort of relief, usually a character you can identify with. "Rosetta" doesn't not offer this kind of relief. It's not violent in the usual movie fashion, and it's not even as bleak or extreme or hopeless as many social films (after all, it's only the story of a teenage girl who is looking for work), it's just that there is no "this is just a movie after all" escapism. Rosetta is a brute force in motion, obsessive, relentless, and her horizon, made of concrete or muddy Belgian suburbs, is also the movie's horizon (the camera is always focused on her or on what she sees, most of the times in close-up). The war movie comparison is really accurate : "Rosetta" is shot like the first 20 minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" and she spends her time running, attacking, retreating, attacking again, followed by an omnipresent hand-held camera. At the same time, and in spite of (or because of) its reality, her character is also elliptical, hard to pity and you're not likely to love her as you can love Ken Loach's characters, for instance. This is where the movie is a tour-de-force and truly original, but obviously some viewers will have trouble to enter Rosetta's world.