The Misfortunates

I know one shouldn't mix reviews with personal experiences, but when watching this film I couldn't help but constantly remember an anecdote that happened to me one New Year's morning in Brussels: trying to cure my party hangover with some friends in a bar, we observed a guy trying to cross the street with a crate of beer. Now the streets were all frozen over and the king had advised in his New Year's address to stay at home. Plus the roads in Brussels are caved in by traffic. So the weight of the crate kept the guy sliding towards the middle of the street. He could make it to either side without, but not with the crate. Nevertheless, he kept trying for over an hour to pull, shove or otherwise move the crate from where it was stuck - until he found the ingenious solution: He drank six bottles of beer on the spot, thereby sufficiently reducing the weight to pull the crate over - only that he got so drunk and spaced out in the process that he slipped and broke all of the bottles, so his whole effort came to naught.

This little story has nothing and everything to do with 'Misfortunates' which is chock full of incidents like this one. And as abundant films about losers and social misfits may be in Belgian/ Dutch cinema (like Aaltra, The Sexual Life of Belgians, Flodders, Spetters), this one takes the cake in every respect: the autobiographical story is perfectly adapted and wonderfully played. Its provides tons of utterly irrelevant, but amusing add-ons like when the Strubbes invite themselves over to an exiled Iranian couple to force them into watching a Roy Orbison concert because their TV's been repossessed. Like in my little story, one cannot help but somewhat admire the persistence of the Strubbe family to make their lives as dysfunctional as humanly possible, while one cannot ignore the destructiveness of it all.

If you like painfully real social dramedy, this one is for you; if your threshold for witnessing the lower recesses of human behavior isn't very high, you're likely to find 'Misfortunates' an extremely tasteless affair.

The movie is not too bad but stays clearly behind the book of Dimitri Verhulst. It depicts however quite strongly the destiny of the people that are born in less favored place - destiny that you do not escape easily and that is somehow claimed for its future generation. It happens here that this poor area is a small countryside village in Flanders, with its own code and its 'folklore' with a Belgium humour touch. Nonetheless, such a background message could have been issued as well in a parisian suburb or in a "developing" country. The way out does not change as well: education and self-esteem.

What is it about Belgian Directors? They manage to make films which are about working-class people, full of hard knocks and everyday misery... and yet, not only is there a joie de vivre between the lines, but sweetness and fun. The Misfortunates reminds me very much of the kind of films by the Frères Dardenne...La Promesse, Le Fils... sort of like Ken Loach, but without the total grimness of his vision.

The story is told from the point of view of a young man remembering his time as a thirteen-year-old... at the point where he is taken away from his family because of the degrading environment. I'm not going to go into a description of the film... simply to say that in all the films mentioned above, what shines out especially are the incredibly realistic performances...you totally forget that these are actors, and you learn something about the way "the other half lives", which may horrify you or disgust you, but somewhere in all that, their humanity wins you over. I find this to be a particularly Belgian trait...I can't think of any serious French films that have this capacity for realism, grittiness and humanity. And the ability to make you like something about all the characters, no matter how objectionable they might be for the most part. And of course, these days, there is nothing comparable coming from America, where everything is formulaic. (The closest I've seen to this kind of realism recently in American film is Winters Bone... which comes close but is too manufactured to work on a deeper level.)

The Misfortunates is not to be missed.

When you think of Belgium, many things might pop to your mind, but certainly not this harsh comedy-drama about the dysfunction that tops all disfunctions. The Strobbes, working (although almost nobody is working),class family consists of 4 loutish sons, stoic mother and the 13-year old son of one of the brothers, with more potential than all of them together. And there is almost nothing else but excessive drinking, and all the things that come with it. Cruelty, violence, hangover and such a waste of both lives and space. This is harsh picture of a family, that doesn't know how else to connect but through getting smashed. The scene that stands out is incredibly hard to watch. When the boys father comes from rehab for a weekend, healthier and stronger, his brothers slowly draw him back to the pit he tried to escape. Strange and disturbing movie, but I have a feeling one that you don't forget soon.

Known in France as La Merditude des choses, this is a film I've been hunting for ages and finally tracked down on a chilly summer day.

It's the story of a kid grown up, recounting his childhood in a small Belgian village with a dysfunctional family, sometimes filled with hope and joy, more often steeped in social misery and violence.

It's the kind of film that pulls a smile out of you, only to snatch it back before long. There's a bit of Strip-tease or Groland in this romanticized yet raw portrayal of broken, rough-around-the-edges characters who grapple with love and alcoholism, meltdowns and solidarity, all caught in their vices while trying to survive a monotony that's slowly killing them.

You laugh, sometimes. There are scenes so bizarre-like a nude bike race, a betting shop session with a kid that ends in a conga line with two dwarf barmaids, or a booze-fueled Tour de France with deliberately dizzying camera work. But every one of these moments hides something deeply, achingly sad.

It's as if Koen Mortier's Skunk softened up just enough to hook up with an old Kervern and Délépine flick. The story centers on this man who somehow escaped his circumstances and narrates his origins with a mix of disgust and nostalgia, aware that he was built on shaky foundations, yet equally clear-eyed about his present, which he views with almost the same lens. That realization might be the saddest part of the whole thing. The sordid, seen through innocent, childlike eyes, may not be worse than the banality of adulthood. Both chip away at the soul, but the nostalgia of the former makes it easier to hold onto.

It's a depressing film with beautiful things inside. Alcoholism is depicted raw and intense, the most brotherly moments are also the most fleeting, reflecting a life nobody really chose but has to live anyway, elevated by a literary narration that adds depth and insight to this mess-a child's view of the underside of a medal he never even got to win.

Superbly acted, smartly paced, striking a balance between darkness and levity, text and visuals, it's a fantastic surprise that'll stick with me for a while. Plus, it taught me some raunchy Dutch drinking songs I can't wait to belt out at three sheets to the wind on my next trip to Utrecht.