The Diving Bell and the Butterfly / John Williams
In the documentary Crumb, R. Crumb’s wife says that her husband would “rather be a brain in a jar than a person in a body.” As if it’s a choice. Conventional modern wisdom has it that we’re both: the person is the brain; the body is the jar. The expertly realized opening scene of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly proves why dualism — the long-embattled idea that mental activity is independent of physical causes — can have an instinctive appeal. In the scene, Jean-Dominique Bauby (Mathieu Amalric) awakens from a three-week coma and the viewer assumes his perspective, looking outward from his eyes while they slowly adjust to the surroundings. As doctors speak with Bauby, we soon realize that his end of the conversation is only in his head, remaining unverbalized. A stroke has left him with “locked-in syndrome,” an exceedingly rare condition in which the victim is entirely paralyzed, without the ability to speak but with full mental function. The brain soldiers on, even with the jar a pile of shards.
Diving Bell is based on the true story related in Bauby’s memoir of the same name. At the time of his stroke, in 1995, he was the editor of French Elle, in his early 40s, friendly with rock stars, and in love with a beautiful woman (for whom he had left the mother of his three children, Celine). He was also contracted to write a novel — an updating of The Count of Monte Cristo — but that project came to be replaced by the memoir.
With the help of a therapist, Henriette (the luminous Marie-Josée Croze), Bauby learned to communicate by listening as the alphabet was recited, reconfigured so that the most commonly used letter came first, the second-most common second, and so on. When he heard the letter he wanted, he blinked his left eye, the one part of his body over which he retained control. (His non-functioning right eye was sewn shut to keep it from becoming septic. Director Julian Schnabel, a renowned visual artist who’s been turning out a film every five or six years, uses the grisly detail as an opportunity to craft a dazzling — if unsettling — image.) Henriette gave way to the tireless and loving Claude (Anne Consigny), who took this painstaking form of dictation until the memoir was finished.
Needless to say, the story is stirring. If there aren’t at least a few scenes that spur you to tears, you might want to check the circuitry. But outside of his circumstances, Bauby is not a saintly character, and the movie admirably refrains from suggesting that his tragedy is enough to make him one. Celine (Emmanuelle Seigner) becomes a regular, supportive presence at the hospital, while Bauby’s girlfriend, Ines, never shows her face. Still, his attitudes toward the two women remain unchanged.
Schnabel’s painterly eye results in dozens of stunning images, even if it also, at moments, steers the film uncomfortably close to the gauzy aesthetic of a high-end perfume commercial. He may lack the precision of a Terrence Malick (or put more kindly, he may have a broader palette), but like Malick, he seems interested in film primarily for its visual poetry. No matter how affecting, though, a two-hour visual poem threatens to outstay its welcome. The first half of Diving Bell is among the year’s best work, largely because the decision to keep the audience locked in Bauby’s point of view unnervingly recreates the sensation of being paralyzed. As the movie unfolds into flashbacks (including terrific work by Max von Sydow as Bauby’s father) and surprisingly tepid testaments to the human imagination, repetition moves in to slightly dilute the film’s power.
Amalric, a veteran French actor, brilliantly and seamlessly inhabits Bauby. He adjusts his good eye by tiny degrees to move from fidgety to panicked to grieving to resigned. And his voiceover work is the movie’s most potent device. We’re continually privy to Bauby’s interior monologue, in which he retains a sharp sense of humor despite his tragedy, flirting with beautiful therapists, doubting the usefulness of those praying for him, and screaming at an orderly for turning off a TV during the pivotal moments of a soccer match. Even though his spirit can be feisty, Bauby wonders at times if he’s feeling too much self-pity. To someone viewing his nightmare, it scarcely seems possible that there’s a level of self-pity to which he’s not entitled.
John Williams lives in Brooklyn. He’s a freelance writer. He blogs at A Special Way of Being Afraid.
Pajiba Love 12/21/07 | | Savages, The
Comments
First?
Posted by: Jaclyn at December 12, 2007 2:58 PM
Thanks for this review, I had asked for it a week ago and thought I would never get it on account of my constant ...mmm...asshattery.
Personally, I've wanted to see it since I first caught the trailer which is as awesome as trailers come.
Posted by: BarbadoSlim at December 12, 2007 2:59 PM
Great Review, John.
I've been wanting to see this film for some time. That song, in the trailer...by Ultra Orange & Emanuelle...fantastic.
Posted by: Kevin Longrie at December 12, 2007 3:01 PM
I mean this with every offense possible:
What the fuck is wrong with you Jaclyn?
That aside, great review John. I always look forward to your concise and thoughtful reviews.
Posted by: ian at December 12, 2007 3:30 PM
The man's situation is terrifying...I can't imagine remembering what I wanted to say if I had to break everything down into winks. Pretty amazing. I second ian's thoughts on "first" and those who get excited by it...
Posted by: Moi at December 12, 2007 3:40 PM
6th!!....Tool
Posted by: FrothyWalrus at December 12, 2007 4:44 PM
This book has been in my top five for a very long time, and I was worried that making it into a movie would sort of ruin it for me, but I'm glad to hear that it turned out well.
And Jaclyn, as annoying as your comment is, I do like that you seem to be rather confused by the whole situation.
Posted by: Marra at December 12, 2007 5:42 PM
Pretty sure Jaclyn was stoking the fires for the Pajiba Drinking Game. That whole, drink if someone posts "first".
Just like by referring to everyone collectively as Pajibblets makes you drink. And calling out BarbadoSlim by name, only to mention that his occasional bouts of classy quietness are ever surprising. And adding by unnecessary breaks to make this a three-paragraph response.
Like this one.
Posted by: insertclevernamehere at December 12, 2007 5:58 PM
And by stoking grammatical wrath by using phrases like "adding by" and "classy quietness". I don't know what the fuck that means. Yeesh. That's the last time I buy heroin from Girl Scouts.
Posted by: insertclevernamehere at December 12, 2007 6:00 PM
Wait, Girl Scouts sell heroin?
And here I've been turning them away from my door!
Posted by: Stella at December 12, 2007 6:43 PM
My aunt dated the cinematographer back when they were both in art school.
We laugh every time we see one of his movies and wonder what her life might have been like if they'd never broken up.
Posted by: Stella at December 12, 2007 6:50 PM
also, and I promise to stop being so spastic with my posts, beautifully written review, John.
Posted by: Stella at December 12, 2007 6:53 PM
Posted by: insertclevernamehere at December 12, 2007 5:58 PM
Thank you for your compliment,(at least I think it was one) don't get many of those, on the net or real life on account ...of, whatever.
As for this flick, I just have to say this guy has to have one major pair of "brass balls" I know I wouldn't be able to do accomplish anything he has even with full use of my extremities, and never will. In fact were I in his condition I would be wishing for death, like that guy on Metallica's ONE song/video.
Posted by: BarbadoSlim at December 12, 2007 7:11 PM
The Metallica song/video are referring to the film "Johnny Get Your Gun" btw.
Also, Metallica sucks.
*avoids objects thrown
Posted by: Kevin Longrie at December 12, 2007 8:08 PM
Also, Metallica sucks.
*avoids objects thrown
Posted by: Kevin Longrie at December 12, 2007 8:08 PM
------------------------------------------------
You won't get any objects thrown from me. They suuuuuuuuck sooooooo much, since And Justice For All.
Posted by: BarbadoSlim at December 12, 2007 8:13 PM
I'd understood that his right eye WAS functional--that is, he could see with it--but he couldn't control his eyelid and therefore couldn't keep they eye lubricated. So they had to sacrifice half his vision.
Posted by: Ann at December 12, 2007 8:17 PM
Good.
P.S. I loved your acting in Bender's Big Score
Posted by: Kevin Longrie at December 12, 2007 8:19 PM
Okay, firsties already so prevalent at Onion AV that if it spreads here I might have to cut a bitch. Can we all mutually agree not only not to do firsties but also not to comment on it if someone does it? It only further derails the discussion and there is really nothing mocking you can say to someone who does firsties that is in any way original or funny.
I realize that this comment contradicts itself, but it's for the common good, because firsties sucks.
Anyway, I loved the book when I read it in high school, and I'm looking forward to seeing the movie. I'll probably spend half the time wondering what it would have been like had Johnny Depp not had to drop out.
Posted by: Alex at December 13, 2007 2:23 AM
Does anybody else find it oddly funny (not haha funny, but huh funny) that he was slated to rewrite The Count of Monte Cristo pre-stroke? The grandfather in the novel also communicated by the same eyelid blinking to letters that Schnabel later had to do.
Sorry to geek out on you like that, one of my favorite books of all time, I pick up on weird things like that...
Posted by: Bethy at December 13, 2007 2:03 PM
Bauby, not Schnabel
oops
Posted by: Bethy at December 13, 2007 3:21 PM
Wow, not only does BarbadoSlim have the decency to appreciate Futurama but he knows that Metallica became useless after Hetfield got a mullet.
As an aside, congratualtions on being the only man to win an Olympic gold for both limbo and sex.
Posted by: joemama420 at December 14, 2007 3:48 PM
Bethy-
They did point out that comparison in the movie. With the illustration from the book TCOMC.
Posted by: pkittie at December 27, 2007 1:01 AM
1) This film looks like something I would really enjoy, I actually hadn't heard of it until it was listed in Slate's top ten films of 2007 but now I look forwards to watching it immensely.
2) Girl Scouts only sell heroin in a quest to obtain the hard to get "drug pushing" badge. They used to cook meth but a series of tragic home lab explosions left hundreds of girls without eyebrows so they decided to switch to a different intoxicating substance
3) While we're on the topic of BSlim: I discovered today that the most popular search term used that produced my blog in November was in fact "barbado slim" with a grand total of 17% of all searches. This upsets me for many varied and complex reasons.
Posted by: Alex the Odd at January 2, 2008 5:54 AM
I actually just saw it today. Amazing, especially the scene with the father on the phone.
Posted by: Kevin Longrie at January 5, 2008 3:27 AM