Self-consciousness and self-referential "in-jokes" have
long been a tradition of filmmaking. From Buster Keaton's Sherlock
Jr. to Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 to Francois Truffaut's
Day for Night to Robert Altman's The Player, there
have been few subjects that have fascinated filmmakers quite so
much as themselves. The French have a wonderful slang term for
it: "nombrilistic," which, bluntly translated, means
"navel-gazing." The new film Irma Vep by up-and-coming
avant-frenchy Oliver Assayas nestles quite nicely into
the company of those other great filmmakers.
Irma Vep's fast and loose storyline concerns a Hong Kong
action star named Maggie Cheung (played by Hong Kong action star
Maggie Cheung) who is summoned to Paris to star in a remake of
Louis Feuillade's silent film classic Les Vampires. Cheung
is unceremoniously dumped into the midst of a chaotic (and ultimately
troubled) film set and left to fend for herself among the harried
(and occasionally wacko) characters behind the scenes. We have
an old-school "new-wave" director in the process of
having a nervous breakdown; we have a lesbian costume designer
with a serious jones for the lithesome Asian star, and we have
an entire subculture's worth of bickering, overworked production
managers, set decorators, cameramen, actors and stunt women.
Assayas shoots nearly the entire film with a roaming hand-held
camera, giving everything a totally believable "documentary"
feel. The acting is largely improvised and completely natural.
Fans of Mike (Secrets & Lies) Leigh's work will find
an eerie similarity at play here. Characters babble incoherently,
chat meaninglessly, wander in and out of scenes and occasionally
spout words of great wisdom. The fact that the film is in both
English and French (with appropriate subtitles) means that strict
attention is required to pick up on many of the film's subtleties.
Nonetheless, Assayas achieves a certain musical rhythm in his
pacing. Cheung, a magnetic cinematic face if there ever was one,
displays much more talent than she is normally allowed to in such
(admittedly entertaining) chopsocky fare as Heroic Trio and
Supercop. Nathalie Richard, as the hot-and-heavy costumer,
manages to poke her head and shoulders above the chaos and din
here and emerge as an energetic presence amidst a sea of energy.
Despite its concentration on the backstage politics of moviemaking,
Irma Vep is really more interested in the state
of film today, rather than the people who do it. Although many
of the references are quite French (Feuillade's silent film work,
journalists obsessed with John Woo), it's not too difficult to
understand the message. Rene Vidal (Jean-Pierre Leaud), our new-wave
director, has taken on a massively stupid project. He's trying
to remake a very antiquated thriller about a female super-thief.
His decision to cast the lovely foreigner Maggie Cheung in the
title role seems inspired. Unfortunately, that single flash of
avant-garde brilliance is all he's got in him. The joke, of course,
is that the French new wave is, nowadays, as old-fashioned as
Louis Feuillade's 1915 melodrama. Cheung, our level-headed heroine,
is the single island of professional calm in this circus of snobbery,
backstabbing and "artistic" expression. The scene in
which she tries to get a handle on her elusive character--suiting
up in her rubber catsuit and stealing some jewelry from a hotel
guest--is a magnificent bit of filmmaking.
Irma Vep is certainly not a film for the casual viewer.
Its insight, drama and considerable humor are best appreciated
by hardcore filmheads. The ending (in which our troubled director's
unfinished "masterpiece" is finally revealed) may seem
frustratingly abrupt. Remember, though, this is a movie about
a movie that is falling apart. With that in mind, the ending only
confirms the brilliance of Assayas' vision. What's the future
of film in France? Maybe it's Oliver Assayas.