Review: Summer Hours (2009) *****
Summer Hours opens with an image of a French country house. It flickers as if summoned from memory, but then it comes to life with the sounds of playing children. From there, even as the film’s credits roll, we’re dropped into the middle of the chaos of a celebration and we’re left to find our way through encounters and snatches of conversation as the roving camera flits from one place to the next like a honeybee gathering pollen.
It turns out this is the 75th birthday of the matriarch of the house and her three grown children have returned from far corners with their own families to celebrate. It’s a happy time as the house, full of generations of accumulated bric-a-brac and memories, is re-animated by the very people who grew up there.
The joy is short lived however as the day ends and the families pack up and return to their daily lives, leaving only the aging mother, her housekeeper and the sense that the past is coming to an end. So begins Olivier Assayas’ beautiful and melancholy rumination on the passing of generations, the fragility of history and the sense that we’re becoming detached from the places we come from only to be cast adrift into an uncertain future.
Though the family is unaware of it, the next time they meet it will be after their mother has passed away and they’re forced to regroup to decide what to do with the house and its contents. As is often the case, what’s good for one sibling is not necessarily in the best interest of the others and the dilemma threatens to tear them apart.
More important than the ultimate disposition of house and the objects inside it however, is the question of how much these things define our lives and how much meaning they have when no one is around to use and appreciate them. Also at issue is the sad sense that these siblings have lost not only their mother, but also the glue that held them all together and the very thing that defined them as a family. It’s a subject matter that could easily lead to melodrama, but Summer Hours is quietly powerful where other films might reach for easy emotion. It resonates rather than overwhelms, but the effect lingers for days afterward.
After the tawdriness and rawer edges of Assayas’ recent films (the informal trilogy that includes Demonlover, Clean and Boarding Gate), his latest is a surprisingly sweet affair tinged with a sobering streak of sadness that never comes across as maudlin. Though tonally it feels more humane, it’s similar in technique to those other films in that it deploys a constantly moving camera to capture natural fragments of dialogue and activity that build upon one another until a wisp of a narrative begins to emerge. It’s a style that echoes Altman, but it’s less exuberant in its use of overlapping dialogue.
Though it relies heavily on its talented cast including the great Juliette Binoche, Charles Berling (Demonlover), Dardenne Brothers’ favorite Jérémie Renier (In Bruges, Atonement, L’Enfant and Lorna’s Silence) and Edith Scob (Eyes Without a Face), the performances in Summer Hours are naturalistic rather than showy. The result is you don’t necessarily realize how good they are until afterwards. Sometimes the best performances are the ones that stand out the least and that’s certainly the case here.
If the film has a flaw, it’s that Assayas occasionally presses his themes a little too hard and makes his points a little too direct. He tends to underline his message when restraint is all that is needed. However, this is the tiniest of quibbles magnified perhaps by multiple viewings and it doesn’t detract from what is a thoughtful and multi-layered film.
Steeped in the passage of time, Summer Hours expresses regret at the way things change, but it also acknowledges you can’t pin life down or it ceases to have meaning. In the final remarkable scene, there is even a note of optimism. As the torch is passed to a new generation there is sadness and regret, but there’s almost an acceptance that things change as they must. People come and go and sometimes the residue of objects and memories can hold us back as easily as they can ground us. It’s this delicate and moving balance between regret over what has been lost and hope for what the future will bring that makes Summer Hours such a beautiful film. It is after all the very nature of life itself.
Summer Hours (L’heure d’été). France 2008 (US release 2009). Written and directed by Olivier Assayas. Cinematography by Éric Gautier. Edited by Luc Barnier. Starring Juliette Binoche, Charles Berling, Jérémie Renier, Edith Scob, Dominique Reymond, Valérie Bonneton, Isabelle Sadoyan, Kyle Eastwood, Alice De Lencquesaing and Emile Berling. 1 hour 42 minutes. In French with English subtitles. Not rated by the MPAA. 5 stars (out of 5)
Filed under: Reviews
Tags: Alice De Lencquesaing, Charles Berling, Dominique Reymond, Edith Scob, Emile Berling, Eric Gautier, Isabelle Sadoyan, Jeremie Renier, Juliette Binoche, Kyle Eastwood, Luc Barnier, Olivier Assayas, Valerie Bonneton
Astoundingly lovely review, Craig. I mean it.
I want to see this film very, very much.
This film didn’t resonate with me, and perhaps that is for personal reasons. I just settled my mother’s estate 2 years ago, and the home I grew up in now is in other hands. I had a “been there, done that” feeling about it, so I disqualified myself from reviewing it. I thought the siblings behaved pretty much as I would expect them to; it was nice to see the absence of rancor that most filmmakers would have made the centerpiece of a film. At the same time, I was bothered a little bit by the mother’s relationship with the famous painter; it seemed unnecessary to have a skeleton in the closet. And it was hard for me to believe that the maid who had served them for so many years and certainly must have picked up a bit of an art education would fail to recognize the worth of the vase; it’s possible, but I just didn’t buy it. It seemed like a cheap laugh.
The film was commissioned by the Musee D’Orsay to commemorate something or other (hence all the references and loans of art), but turned into an independent project for Assayas.
Thanks JB, I hope you like it better than Marilyn!
Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s Flight of the Red Balloon was originally commissioned for the same Musee D’Orsay anniversary Marilyn mentions…also starring Juliette Binoche
It’s funny Marilyn, the surface story appealed to me precisely because it felt like my own experience. Maybe it resonated with me more because it was 15 years ago instead of 2? Impossible to say I suppose.
Anyway, for me there was so much more going on under the surface beyond the technical comings and goings of the story. The plot is actually very slight, but there are several strong thematic and emotional undercurrents that appeal to me. It was particularly powerful because many of them were at odds, yet Assayas managed to balance them.
Having said that, I think I mentioned elsewhere I recently sat in front of a group of people who where chatting about Summer Hours and they were just as underwhelmed as you were. It’ll be interesting now to see what other critics are saying.
Perhaps this is just one of those movies that either hits you or it doesn’t.
I loved this film but recognize the difficulty for a reviewer to capture its particular brand of subtle cinematic magic. You’ve done all one could hope for on this front.
My own comparable experience of taking care of my mother’s estate happened two years ago. The film’s effectiveness was in no way diluted for me by familiarity with the way such things more typically unfold. What took hold and resonated with me was the film’s ability to poignantly focus on the bittersweet role nostalgia plays in our lives.
I’m pleased you fell for the film Sartre, particularly since you sought it out on my recommendation.
Every year there are one or two films that really really grab me. This one certainly did.
What an absolutely lovely review Craig.
My friend and I were originally going to see Star Trek yesterday but I convinced her to see this instead. :)
We were both really impressed with this movie. It being my first viewing I didn’t note the flaws you speak of. It was a gorgeous-looking, beautifully made film with a beautifully written story and a terrific cast. There are so many layers and nuances, the portrayal of the family relationships and dynamics is rich and multi-layered. And the ending when the young daughter expresses her sadness at her grandmother’s passing and her regret that they’ve sold the house was so touching.
On a side note Juliette Binoche looked so different with the blonde hair – she kind of reminded me of a French, classier and more-talented Julia Roberts with that hair. :O
I was sadly unable to see this over the weekend, as my schedule was full. I am very happy to hear that sartre and Alison semed to love this film, even though Marilyn admits the film didn’t resonate for personal reasons. The proof will be in the pudding for me later in the week.
“Steeped in the passage of time, Summer Hours expresses regret at the way things change, but it also acknowledges you can’t pin life down or it ceases to have meaning. In the final remarkable scene, there is even a note of optimism. As the torch is passed to a new generation there is sadness and regret, but there’s almost an acceptance that things change as they must.”
This is a beautiful, poetic and intensely passionate appraisal. Kudos.
This is a wonderfully honest, unfussy film and I love it for that. Having had to deal with–still dealing with, in fact–something similar, it felt like the film and I were on the same wavelength.
Dealing with the residue of life is a painful fact of life. It’s a messy situation, figuring out which things you keep and which things you toss. It forces you to assess all the items that are so familiar. Some are rendered useless by the absence of their users. Some are imbued with new worth because of money, or memory or grief. I want to keep everything the same and I want to get rid of everything and start anew, all at the same time.
I can’t fully assess the film on its own merits yet, but there were some real moments of truth scattered throughout.
That’s beautifully expressed W.J.
WJ, I know exactly what you mean. I could see my own family in the dynamic that played out in Summer Hours. We didn’t have priceless art or a lovely French country home to squabble about, but we squabbled anyway and it was very sad. Sad not just because of the disagreement, but the sense that my parent’s lives had suddenly been reduced to the worth of a pile of objects.
Also, sentimental value, material value and genuine usefulness very rarely align, so how do you put importance on an object?
Thanks for your observations. It’s not easy for me to love this film any more than I already do, but you’ve kind of helped me re-identify why.
Movie of the year.
It really is an astoundingly lovely and simple film about real things that matter–and perceived things that don’t. And vice versa. Beautiful.
All y’all talking about it makes me want to see it again. Like right now. My personal choice for best of the year, from what I’ve seen so far.
Yes, it’s great to see this thread revived, as this is certainly one of the very best pictures of the year by any barometer of measurement.
http://www.amazon.com/Summer-Hours-Heure-NON-USA-FORMAT/dp/B001W4HMQ8/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1261604510&sr=1-2
It may be worth to get this ASAP to watch it again! I’m assuming everyone has all-Region players here, right?
I hear tell you can stream it on Netflix, though I haven’t investigated it myself.
No, I don’t have an all-Region player.
I watched it on Netflix, myself. I don’t think it’s out on DVD yet, but if you happen to have an X-Box, it streams at a reasonable quality.
With my experience, I have almost nothing of any real monetary value, but that didn’t inhibit me any in connecting with their situation. In retrospect, it makes sense being a project subsidized by an art museum. I think Assayas–a director whose films I generally dislike–did a good job of integrating the obligatory nods to expensive artwork into the plot.
I can see how one could view the vase thing as a bit on-the-nose, but I thought it addressed the underlying issue quite well. There becomes a kind of competition between different value systems in situations like that. Each one of them influences you at different moments. What you end up tossing and keeping is an amalgamation of all those influences. It’s a deeply personal thing.
Luckily–or perhaps unluckily–I only had to deal with half-siblings who weren’t legally entitled to anything, but ended up taking some sentimental objects that I was comfortable parting with.
What was interesting to me was how he didn’t take a stand on which value he rated the highest. Of course he lamented objects being whisked away to be sealed off in a museum, but even that fate was better than having the pieces sold off individually to foreign collectors.
To me, the eldest brother seemed to value the sentimentality of objects. He wanted to preserve the house as is, even though–as the mother herself recognized–it loses much of its emotional gravity once the glue is gone. Without the mother, it’s just a house. Of course, at the end, the house has renewed sentimental value because the girl is taking her boyfriend there to (presumably) fuck him while the party is going on. It’s sacred space to the father and daughter for entirely different reasons.
I did like how Assayas didn’t side with any of the characters or their differing value systems. The movie plays it as it lays, examining the upside and downside to every perspective.
Yes, the vase is worth a lot of money and, yes, it would be appreciated by many in the museum. But, what is it worth to the housekeeper who filled it with flowers? And how many tourists would stop and admire the ugly-looking (if rare and economically valuable) vase when there’s a Monet in the next room?