Sister Act

A review of I’ve Loved You So Long.

Written and directed by French filmmaker Philippe Claudel, I’ve Loved You So Long (“ILYSL”) is a beautiful, artful film. It’s the first theater-going experience I’ve had in a long time where I had the thought while watching, “wow, this is a really great film.” And I specifically used the word “film” rather than “movie” in my head, not because it was in French with English subtitles and I was therefore affected, infused with unadulterated pretentiousness and seduced by croissants. Rather, it is objectively a well-crafted, emotional story of the reunion of long-estranged sisters whose lives intersect once more fifteen-plus years after the wrenching tragedy that ripped them apart.

Kristin Scott Thomas plays Juliette, who has come to stay with her much younger sister, Léa (Elsa Zylberstein), after a fifteen year absence. (In choosing not to reveal what has kept Juliette away, I am probably engaging in spoiler-avoidance overkill, as that revelation occurs fairly early in the film. However, I feel that my experience seeing this film was enhanced by the blank slate nature in which I took it in, and my wish is for you to have the same kind of enthralling, unmarred-by-anticipation experience.) Juliette not only moves into Léa's home, but also into her life -- with her family, including husband, Luc, Luc's father, Papy Paul, and her two adopted Vietnamese daughters, P'tit Lys (age eight) and Emelia (about three), as well as with her friends, in particular, Léa's colleague and fellow professor, Michel. Juliette and Léa have one of those Big Heavy Events From The Past ("BHEFTP") to resolve between them, but unlike in Rachel Getting Married, the BHEFTP here informs and motivates the action rather than usurping it.

ILYSL relies upon symbolism to set much of its tone, and while it occasionally teeters on the line of obviousness, it primarily achieves its goal with subtlety. There are two primary symbolic journeys, the first involving Juliette's physical appearance. At the beginning of ILYSL, Juliette appears so haggard, awful and pale that she is barely recognizable as a woman. As she progresses through her journey of reconnecting with her family and the world around her, she slowly regains her color and vibrancy and her femininity. Similarly, we also track Juliette's state of being by her ability to physically connect, literally, to tolerate human contact. Specifically, Juliette's relationship with her niece, P'tit Lys, provides a kind of visual barometer for Juliette's emotional and mental state. At the outset of ILYSL, Juliette can barely be in the same room as P'tit Lys, let alone hug or touch her. But as Juliette allows herself to slowly reawaken and do more than merely occupy space in the world, she allows herself to grow closer and more affectionate with her nieces, reaccepting her maternal self. These two symbolic journeys were very clear and easy to clock, but portrayed artfully. Juliette’s steps forward felt more than merely depicted, they felt earned.

In the same vein, all of the accolades that Kristin Scott Thomas is sure to garner for her performance will likewise be earned. She gives a transformative performance that was compelling, heartbreaking and quite simply magnificent. She will surely be nominated for an Academy Award, and rightfully so. I would be surprised if the film were not also similarly recognized, in either the Foreign Film or Best Picture categories, or both. Each of the performances, from Elsa Zylberstein’s guilt-laden Léa to Frédéric Pierrot’s tragic Captain Fauré, a seemingly minor yet significant presence in Juliette’s new life to the ebullient Lise Ségur as P’tit Lys, together provide strong support to an engaging tale. It is not only the performances that are noteworthy, but also the construction of such unique and fully-realized characters who progress through well-defined arcs that build the momentum toward the reveal of the central mystery.

And even though I guessed the specifics of the central mystery early in, knowing what was coming did not in any way detract from my enjoyment of ILYSL. The story was well-paced and unfolded naturally. Certain stylistic choices, for example the thematic use of water, felt a bit heavy-handed, but not distractingly so. And other overly-dramatic moments, such as the recitation of a children’s book over news being received on the phone felt staged, but were effective nonetheless. Similarly, Juliette’s final words and the echo that the film leaves us with were a bit theatrical, but could not be more apropos or poignant. Overall, ILYSL is a beautifully crafted film that I would not hesitate to recommend sans réserve.