PONETTE ***1/2 out of **** A shot in of PONETTE, her back to us, facing the French Alps, reminded me of the canvases of early 19th c. German Caspar David Friedrich where lone figures in a vast landscape seem to take in the imposing view, asking what it all means. What Ponette faces is the unforgiving task of accepting her mother's death in a car accident. This is made even more difficult since Ponette is just 4 years old. But boy, can 4-year old Victoire Thivisol pour it on. She gives a most compelling performance: unforced, unself-conscious, with all of childhood's familiar mannerisms. The cast in her arm is a constant reminder that Ponette is damaged goods, but Thivisol portrays this damage so compellingly that it seems an unecessary exclamation. What is even more amazing is that Thivisol's guileless acting is not alone. Other tykes - Ponette's cousins and schoolyard acquaintances - do similarly convincing turns that one wonders whether director Jacques Doillon is a sort of pied piper of acting. What he gathered is a coterie of intelligent children growing up in spite of themselves. PONETTE is shot in extreme close-ups yet there is nary a flaw- Doillon displays a sensitivity to childhood's essences - the mercurial mood shifts, the easy logic, the cruelties and consolations - and he captures it with virtuosity. PONETTE could have been overly sentimental and sickly saccharine but in Doillon's hands it is all apt. PONETTE's surreal ending is admittedly its weakest point, but the preceding minutes make it easy to forgive. The phrase "learn to be happy" has a childhood simplicity to it, but anything is possible in the child's mind. For Ponette, it is a lesson well-earned. PONETTE Directed and written by Jacques Doillon. France, 1997 |