L’Enfant
Director: Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Grade: A-

L’Enfant has finally premiered here in Chicago to unanimous critical acclaim and I for one am aligning myself with that majority. And why not? Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne make the kind of films most directors should consider undertaking; those free from the burdens of literary traditions that plague many contemporary films, which isn’t to say that their stories could in no way exist within a literary medium but that the way they choose to relate them reveals itself to be wholly cinematic in design. So precise and, in a way, alien is the concept of a entirely cinematic experience that audience members unaccustomed to such films may find themselves scratching their heads in confusion. But those who weathered through all the difficulties of the Son (the Dardenne brother’s previous film) discovered a film of immense power and awe, unrivaled by any other work that opts for a purely conventional and, as a result, melodramatic staginess. L’Enfant is no different in its overall impact.

First and foremost, the Dardenne’s films are about their own methods and the way they reveal information to the audience. Regarding this structuring principle, in neither the Son nor L’Enfant do we consciously hear the main character’s thoughts. Based solely on their actions, which are at times unpredictable, we must infer their thought process. The Son points us in a specific direction when in the moment of rumination it rests just behind Olivier, pulled in close, looking out over his shoulder in the direction of his gaze. Though the object of his fixation may not be in the shot (it almost never is) the camera still invites us to identify with him, and although at times his decisions appear to posses an alogical motivation, they unfold in a logical manner.

L’Enfant destroys such identification. The film may be just as controlled as the Son and exhibit many of the same attributes, but the distance of the camera to its subject creates a different world entirely; one that appears more chaotic, less pre-determined. When Bruno reflects on his questionable actions the came pulls back, regarding its subject with sterile detachment. Whereas the camera in the Son follows the gaze of Olivier, in L’Enfant we meet Bruno’s gaze as it stares back emptily, seemingly fixed on nothing at all. His inner struggle remains impenetrable. We can substitute our own thought for his in these moments in which all narration halts, but such thoughts belong only to us and not to Bruno, which is why we never quite understand his motivations, and yet we still accept the eerie logic of his actions.

If the directors are largely considered the gods of their self-created worlds, the Dardenne’s subject exists unchained to his creators. They watch him as we watch him, unable to interfere with his actions. Studying him, but never motivating him. Lingering on his immobility, but not enticing him toward movement. It’s a self-contained universe that exists whether we witness it or not.

Despite all this creative energy, I still feel it my duty to make clear that although L’Enfant grants more freedom to Bruno than the claustrophobic world of Olivier, the style remains somewhat less impressive by comparison, making it something of a disappointment. So as not to confuse my admiration for the film, know that I say this with the utmost compassion as a person who believes the Son to be one of the greatest films of the last decade. With that precedent how can’t their follow-up fall victim to a certain amount of unreasonable expectations? Does this make L’Enfant in any way a bad film? Far from it! It remains without rival one of the best films of the year as a slightly disappointing film from these filmmakers amounts to an impossible dream for most other directors.