‘Misericordia’ Review: Alain Guiraudie’s Darkly Comic Backwoods Fable of Pansexual Desire and Small-Town Sociopathy
27.05.2024 - 17:51
/ variety.com
Jessica Kiang Marking a welcome re-embrace of the streamlined murdery perversities of his terrific “Stranger by the Lake,” Alain Guiraudie gives the Cannes Premiere section one of its darkly sparkling standouts with the unsettlingly offbeat “Misericordia.” In the director’s best work, Guiraudie’s trademark is to infuse genre dalliances with mordant wit and a deliciously peculiar, defiant queerness. And while it may initially appear to be straightforward — and while it thankfully avoids the wild tonal swings of muddy tragicomedy “Staying Vertical” (2016) and rather baffling terrorism sex-farce “Nobody’s Hero” (2022) — nobody could ever accuse this increasingly twisted psychodrama of playing it straight.
From the start, there’s something off. The prologue is a driving sequence, shot from the point of view of the unseen driver, through the narrowing country roads of hilly southwestern France.
There is nothing overtly odd going on, even the landscape is banal, shot in hazy earth tones by Claire Mathon’s clever, unromanticized camera. But something in the absolute silence from the driver (no humming, no car radio) and in this stretch of Marc Verdaguer’s vaguely sinister score is reminiscent of a Hitchcock following scene, delivered with the cool precision of Claude Chabrol.
It feels like there’s malice here, or a least an uncanny absence of kindness. The impression is dispelled, however, at journey’s end.
Jérémie (Félix Kysyl), a polite young man with a boyish, obliging air, has returned to the small town where he spent his teenage years, to attend the funeral of Jean-Pierre, the baker for whom he used to work. He is met warily by his old playmate Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand), Jean-Pierre’s son, but more warmly by
.