MUBI

Quand on aime le cinéma, on voit parfois des dizaines et des dizaines de films, des plus mauvais aux très bons, sans pour autant parvenir à retrouver avant longtemps celui qui parviendra à vous transporter, vous émouvoir et vous scotcher littéralement sur votre fauteuil. Quelle chance donc de pouvoir encore être surpris et envouté de la sorte quand cela arrive. Krzystof Kieslowski y est parvenu avec La double vie de Véronique.

C’est d’autant plus réjouissant qu’il s’agit pour moi de la découverte de ce cinéaste. Une aventure frano-polonaise qui laisse entrevoir le meilleur sur le reste de sa carrière et notamment sa fameuse trilogie pour un homme parti trop tôt, suite à une santé fragile. La double vie de Véronique, sous ses airs faussement fantastique, entraine le spectateur où il ne s’y attend pas. A coup de symbole, Kieslowski filme l’intime, évoque l’amour, sublime Irène Jacob.

L’histoire du double n’est presque qu’un prétexte pour parler de l’amour ressenti par Weronika et Véronique. Cette première ressent comme une présence, comme si elle n’était pas seule dans le monde. Tout ce que la jeune Polonaise ressent, Véronique est là comme un écho. Les mêmes petits plaisirs de la vie, l’envie de croquer cette dernière à pleine dent et de trouver l’amour. Cet amour qui bouleverserait la personne.

Il y a bien les problèmes de la vie, mais qu’importe, c’est avant tout les plaisirs simples qu’il faut découvrir. Kieslowski est un véritable cinéaste de l’émotion, du sensoriel. Point de raison dans cette oeuvre. Que serait devenu ce film sans la beauté de son actrice Irène Jacob et surtout de sa simplicité et de son naturel face à la caméra ? Nul ne le sait, mais toujours est-il qu’on est troublé par son jeu (et admettons-le par son physique). Il y a aussi quelque chose de très charnel chez Kieslowski.

Que dire également de cette mise en scène, favorisant les silences et les symboles aux dialogues. Si ces derniers sont présents et tout en justesse, ils ne sont pas le plus important chez le cinéaste polonais. Kieslowski qui emmène sa caméra à tour de bras, offrant des points de vue subjectifs (le concert de l’opéra, superbe), emmène le spectateur en la faisant virevolter et peut compter sur une photographie éblouissante, rajoutant énormément de magie à ce film.

Que dire également de la musique de Zbigniew Preisner ? Elle est tout simplement merveilleuse. Il n’y a pas de mots pour la qualifier. Là aussi, le compositeur polonais a réalisé un travail remarquable. Par ailleurs, on ne se rend même pas compte que pendant l’opéra, Irène Jacob est doublée par la chanteuse attitrée du compositeur.

Il y a encore plein de choses à dire de ce film, à évoquer, mais le mieux est encore de tenter l’expérience et d’en ressortir probablement chamboulé.

What a beautifully radiant film. Kieslowski is one of those directors who I continually hear many praises for, and yet I have yet to dig into his films. It raises questions about fate, love, and that strive for artistic perfection. It doesn’t contain a straight forward plot by any means. It’s completely surreal storytelling that could only make sense on film. The visuals tell the story and the dialogue contains it. It’s almost Malickian in how it tells the story, only with more structure. It was a metaphor bursting off of every scene and in many ways it baffled me to what it was trying to convey. Even without grasping the metaphors in the poetic cinematography you can appreciate how beautiful and graceful it tells these two stories.

Irene Jacob is stunning. I have never seen her in anything else, but she was absolutely mesmerizing. She brings grace and charm to the screen. She was extremely well deserving of the best actress at Cannes.

The way you need to watch this film is to allow it to wash over you because it is such a warm fairytale-esque movie that will simply mesmerize you from start to finish. Since it is such a fairy tale type story I didn’t buy into a lot of the plot devices, and while I don’t think you are supposed to buy into everything from a logical standpoint. It’s a very calm driving film, and while no major events happen, it is completely intriguing and completely poetic. Kieslowski has caught my attention with this film.

I started watching this film, and almost instantaneously I fell in love with it. Krzysztof Kieślowski created a dimension of fantasy that drew me in with the comedy of dwarves and flashers, the sweetness and innocence of a set of young girls, and the magic of puppets, dancers and butterflies. The film is full of angelic hums and chimes and a heavenly operatic score, creating an omniscient and powerful tone for the film. This is genuinely one of the most visually stunning pieces of art I’ve ever seen, with the most incredible cinematography, with hues of green and red and everything in between. Mirrors, reflective surfaces, twisted angles, tricks of lighting, shots straight through orbs- some of the most beautiful camera work I have ever seen kept me glued to the screen and dying for more, not to mention the beautiful Irène Jacob, who played both Veronique and Weronika perfectly, earning herself the Prix d’interprétation féminine. I absolutely fell in love with the idea that the puppeteer, Alexandre, represented this God-like figure, deciding the right girl for his “book”, consequently choosing which girl lives and succeeds in her dreams. Veronique was ultimately that girl, reaping the benefits of the actions of both her and Weronika, while Weronika ended up dying. I’ve never felt so stunned by a film; I’m excited to watch this one over and over and discover everything this film has to offer.

La Double vie de Véronique 1991
DIR Krzysztof Kieslowski
SCR Krzysztof Kieslowski, Krzysztof Piesiewicz
98 Min

Krzysztof Kieslowski said that all of his films are about expressing inner emotions – I wished he had said an “inner life”.

It is the inner life that Veronique is unable or unwilling to project to the world as did her double, Weronika. Veronique will not step over the threshold of uncertainty and come fully into existence.

A title considered by Kieslowski for the film was “Unfinished Girl”.

One of the most arresting and beautiful films to come across my endless march of consuming classic cinema. Spoken softly with naivety, innocence, and intuitive feel. Scored with majestic symphony. Irene Jacob floats above the duality of her characters giving belief to opening windows of the soul. The peek inside this one will haunt me for a long while. Packed with substantive and depth of quality extras. Another milestone achievement in the Criterion Collection canon. I give this a very high recommendation and wonder how a film of this magnitude could escape my notice for so long. My lack of reach remains a mystery. That pleasant thought though makes for the many more discoveries out there.

So far I have loved everything that I’ve seen from Krzysztof Kieslowski and it hurts me to rate this one as I did, but I couldn’t help it. Sure the movie has its signature in amazing cinematography, but it just felt really bland to me. Oh, and might I add, it is not a smart idea to go into this movie as I did. You will be confused as fuck.

But after the credits finish rolling I can’t stop thinking about it, trying to figure out the deeper meaning behind the film. I realize that the puppeteer and his marionettes presented the idea of a controlled destiny, but is this true? Veronique (the one that doesn’t die) followed the same path as her doppelganger (?) until the later died during her musical performance. From this point on Veronique abandons her music career, and free will takes over. Or does it? This is all up in the air as she falls into the trap of the puppeteer and follows all his directions. I guess it all depends on what you believe in.

Also, what was the deal with Veronique’s friend mentioning something about trial? They only touched upon it again when Veronique descends her staircase to get the mail and we see the man sitting on the stairs. I have no idea what that was about and thought the former scene was completely useless. It’s a shame. I really wanted to like this movie too.