Annette: A Very French Descent Into The Detriment of Fame
Hello friends, I received some lovely feedback regarding posting a review for Annette after having seen it in theaters opening weekend, so here it is!
!! warning for detailed spoilers ahead !!
It's about 2.2k words, lol, but I hope that it's informative or helpful for anyone out there who might be interested in my two cents.
Much like everyone else, when I heard the announcement that Adam Driver was starring in the English debut of director Leos Carax, I was excited. Carax, known notably for his poetic approach to filmmaking, seemed right up Driver’s alley, having worked with Jim Jarmusch on a number of occasions. However when the logline for the film was announced, I was unsure how to approach the film.
All the supplementary material -- trailers, first look photographs, summaries, and even the Spotify release of the opening track So May We Start -- pointed the film in a rather confusing direction. This was supposed to be a musical, yes, but was it a comedy? A drama? A romance? We would just have to wait and see.
My anticipation grew when the film opened at Cannes, and a whirlwind of media hit the internet hyping it up to be an absolute sensation. So, you can imagine my surprise when I got to see it in theaters opening weekend, and was left with a sad, sour taste in the back of my mouth.
I admit to being biased for my love of Adam Driver, and I won’t pretend that I didn’t go into the film with extremely high expectations of both the cast and the filmmaking team behind the scenes. The first five minutes of the film are an absolute delight -- a meta announcement directly from Carax to the audience in the theater before the opening of the film, the cast pouring out into the streets as they sing what I consider to be an absolute jam, So May We Start, as they literally put on their costumes to become the characters we will follow throughout the film, right before our eyes.
It is unfortunate then, that what was such a fun, lively, and enjoyable opening, gives way to a film that really is all downhill from there. And perhaps that is the point of the film, to start and end on such polarizing opposites, but for the typical American movie-goer, films ending on an uncomfortable note just don’t sit right. But we’ll get to the end in a minute.
The plot itself is relatively straight-forward, and easy to understand on paper; a provocative [read: shock value insult] comedian named Henry McHenry (Adam Driver), falls in love with an opera singer named Ann Desfranoux (Marion Cotillard). The two are engaged, and shortly thereafter marry, and then of course have a child, the titular Annette. Henry’s career begins to dwindle, and he grows frustrated by this, especially as Ann’s skyrockets -- his shows are canceled as hers are sold out. Henry begins a slow and steady descent into insanity, murders his wife and potential (?) father of his child, and eventually, pays the price. Again, we’ll get there.
It is through the execution that this plot feels lacking in more ways than one. Henry and Ann’s love affair happens so quickly on the screen that it feels rushed in the context of the universe we’re living in. There is a sex scene that instead of feeling sensual and erotic, feels awkward and uncomfortable. The hyped up pussy-eating lasts for maybe three seconds from a very strange angle, and the spooning sex feels visceral but not in a good way. Thankfully, it’s gone just as quickly as it appears, and in the first act of the film no less. I will, however, give major props to the filmmakers for putting in a second micro-cunnilingus scene, where Ann is pregnant. That sort of pleasuring has, to my knowledge, never been put on the screen, and it was nice to have it pop in for the moment.
Of course, things take a dramatic turn when Ann gives birth to Annette.
Now, I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a metaphor for why you shouldn’t have kids, but for no specific reason in particular, Henry begins to suffer (he suffers? Yes, he suffers). He grows irritable, he seems to lose his edge, he has a comedy show that completely bombs with the audience, and he develops something of an increasingly concerning drinking problem. He has a complete and utter breakdown on stage -- one that made me feel nauseous in its severity; I had to physically avert my eyes because Henry was getting so emotionally volatile in a way that felt unhinged and dangerous.
It’s never really explained why this happens though, other than it having to be a result of Annette. Which doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense, because he is shown caring for Annette in multiple scenes, doting on her and generally being a good father. And after some major plot points that we’ll discuss in a few paragraphs, he throws himself into being an obsessive father. Regardless, Henry is on a path to a meltdown of huge proportions, and he grows to resent Ann for her success, performing for sold out shows while he, as Henry puts it, “babysits”.
Meanwhile, Ann however takes a turn too, and while she reaps the benefits of fame that her operatic voice is giving her, she too begins to turn on her husband. Which, again doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense, because there’s nothing in the film itself between them that would suggest their relationship is suffering, it just suffers. She has a dream that six women have come forward with accusations of sexual abuse at the hand of Henry, in a musical number that feels like a tasteless dig at the #MeToo movement, with the women claiming they came forward to warn Ann of Henry’s behavior. Obviously this is a dream, and Ann wakes up frightened by what her mind has made up, but it’s interesting that she has this in her subconscious, considering there’s no in-film contextual reasoning for it. She just, all of a sudden decides she’s afraid of Henry.
Another turning point in the film is when the two decide randomly to take a yacht trip into the middle of the ocean, where a raging storm is cause for catastrophic danger. Henry (drunk) demands that Ann (frightened of him, for good reason this time; being drunk) dance with him on the deck of the yacht, and the two are pummeled by the rain and wind so much so, that on one particularly swift turn, the waves lurch the yacht and Henry flings Ann over the side of the boat, watching as she drowns.
Was I incredibly disappointed to realize that Ann’s character was reduced down to the trope of a woman giving birth and then dying for the plot? Yes. Was I surprised? No not really. At the very least, Ann returns as a drowned sea witch ghost, who declares that as her revenge, she is going to curse Henry and give Annette the gift of her voice. Annette then begins to sing whenever she sees the moon, something that Henry thinks is only his own delusion at first.
A side note about Annette the baby:
Yes, she’s a marionette puppet, and yes, she’s incredibly creepy and disconcerting to look at. From the way she is carved to the way she moves, there is nothing about this doll that encourages any sort of warm or fuzzy, nurturing feelings. I give major props to the actors for cuddling and coddling this absolute monstrosity. The likeness to Chucky is not dissimilar. The reason Annette is a marionette puppet is quite clearly stated by Annette the real toddler at the end of the film; the adults in her life see her as a means to an end, ripe for their own gain, not as a person of agency. It’s a very on the nose metaphor that I frankly think really could have been done without.
One thing I did think quite funny, was how Henry appropriated this curse and turned it into a financial profit. Upon realizing that Annette truly is singing with the grace of an operatic star at only a few years of age, Henry immediately decides that he will send her on an international tour to perform and make huge amounts of money. In order to do this, however, Henry has to convince Conductor (I don’t believe he has a name other than that) played by Stephen Helberg.
Conductor is, by FAR, the “best” character in this story. From the very first moment we see him accompanying Ann’s singing with his restrained piano playing, to the moment Henry drowns him, Conductor plays a powerful and necessary role -- that of reason. Conductor is level headed even when he is brimming with burning passion, truly in love with his profession and, as you might have guessed it, Ann. He reveals that before Ann met Henry, they had a passionate love affair together, and before his death at the hands of a drunk Henry, confesses that he believes he is Annette’s true father.
Before his murder however, he does agree to accompany Annette as he accompanied her mother at the piano, declaring that however he can help honor Ann’s memory and protect Annette, he will. It is a beautiful relationship, one of nurturing rather than exploitative like the manner that Henry approaches Annette. Henry, Conductor, and Annette begin traveling the world to roaring success, thanks to the gift/curse of Ann’s voice, something that continues to haunt Henry.
I must confess, it’s at this point in the film where I had hoped that a turning point would come in Henry getting a wake up call and get his shit together. There is a really wonderful montage of Conductor and Henry more or less co-parenting Annette, and for a moment, it seemed that the two men would continue on like this as a family together. This goes down the toilet when Henry and Conductor get into an argument about Annette, Conductor reveals he might be Annette’s true father, and Henry (drunk) pushes Conductor into the pool and holds his head under until he’s drowned to death -- all with Annette seeing from the window.
Annette, very powerfully, acts of her own accord really for the first time in the entire film, and smashes a moon-and-stars lamp that Henry had gotten for her when he realized she sang at the sight of the moon, metaphorically announcing she would never sing again. Henry, desperate for one last show, schedules her for the “Hyperbowl” half-time show, where instead of singing for the crowds of thousands and millions watching, she instead announces in her very small speaking voice (the first time we hear her speak), “daddy kills people.”
Henry is then arrested, put on trial for his crimes, convicted, and sentenced to life in prison all within the span of about five minutes.
The ending of the film is quite powerful, Annette visits her father in prison. He looks like shit -- bone thin, greying hair, a black eye -- and she, for the first time, is human. Freed by the shackles of her parent’s greed and exploitation, the control of her childhood is lightened, and she is no longer a literal physical puppet. She is incredibly well-spoken for a girl who must be maybe three or four years old, telling Henry of all his wrong doings and condemning him, saying, “I will never forgive you.”
She leaves the visitation room, telling Henry he can never love her again, and Henry walks to the corner of the room, making direct eye contact with the audience, and muttering, “stop watching me.”
It is not the typical Hollywood ending that american audiences are used to -- but then again, this isn’t a typical Hollywood film. This is a French, stylized, poetic, beautiful descent into sheer and utter madness. It is not happy, the songs are not road-trip-with-the-car-windows-down singable, it is not a feel good film. We are watching a man’s fall from grace, The Ape God, as Henry calls himself, being reduced to a thin, sickly looking murderous convict. We are watching a man breaking down until he has nothing left. He does not get a happy ending, none of the characters do. In all honesty, I thought that Henry was going to murder Annette when she refused to sing at the halftime show, so if anything, it’s a relief that at least one character makes it out relatively unscathed at the end of this film.
I suppose the question now is, ‘is this a good film?’ and I would have to say, maybe. It is certainly a stunning film, an absolutely beautifully crafted film. The set design, cinematography, the editing and music are all exceptionally well done. The plot is simultaneously straight-forward and confusing, with the motives of characters swinging wildly from making sense to not. The songs are both grating and catchy. The actor’s performances are outstanding, but the character’s choices are annoying.
I believe that happy =/= good, and sad =/= bad, but this is a film where the progression of the events unsettled me so much, particularly the ending, where when the theater lights turned on and the credits finished, I felt like I had just invaded someone’s privacy, that sense of “sorry I wasn’t meant to see that”, a strange sort of second-hand embarrassment. And perhaps that is the mark of a good film, that ability to unease and unsettle, but perhaps not. That’s not my job to decide.
What I will say to end all of this, is that while the actions in the film are saddening, I do believe this was the right story with the right characters played by the right actors. Whatever this was, it was remarkably well done, even if I won’t be seeing it again anytime soon.
