Mon oncle Antoine

This film has consistently been voted as the greatest Canadian film ever made in various critics polls over the years. Revered New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael hailed it as a small masterpiece upon original release but it is the sort of slow, intimate, character-based drama that has never achieved the sort of wide appeal (outside of Canada) that more plot focused films have. Watching some of the supplementary material on the Criterion Collection disc, it is also clear that there are many cultural references in the film that will mean more to a Canadian (particularly a French Canadian) than to other viewers.

The film meanders amiably along, capturing in unhurried pace the life of rural 1940's Quebec, in this case an asbestos mining town. The main characters are Benoit, an orphaned boy, the local undertaker Antoine and his assistant Fernand played by the director himself Claude Jutra. Eventually the film reaches its big set-piece, a long, extended night sequence where Benoit and Antoine (covered in furs) must traverse the icy, snow covered landscape via sled to retrieve the body of a boy who has died at a farmhouse.

The director was hailed as the new savior of Canadian cinema at the time of release, but unfortunately never achieved the level of success later on that he did with this film. He mysteriously disappeared one winter and his body was discovered the following spring after the ice had thawed...a simple note attached, "My name is Claude Jutra".

In a genre by itself, this film has a limited audience and narrow appeal coupled with a subtle undertone which permeates the entire production. Nevertheless, it is a remarkable piece of cinema which is as timeless as a rare work of art. Capturing a time in Québec rarely seen in movies, Mon Oncle Antoine's strength lies in the depth of its characters and the richness of the settings. Duplessis' Québec, parochial and feudal, is brilliantly cast as the backdrop which could not possibly be achieved by anyone other than a pure laine Québecois.

It would be far too easy to resort to stereotypes, clichés and single-minded myopic statements in this story. Yet the director chose to skip the forced imagery and instead, focused on the essence of life in rural Québec of the time. That makes this film exceptional in its authenticity while not being pretentious in its presentation. If only more contemporary cinematic endeavors would do the same, the viewing public might not be forced to choose between the over-hyped Hollywood Pablum that passes for 'Must See' viewing.

Mon Oncle Antoine is - in every sense of the word - unforgettable. It will leave a lasting impression on anyone who has ever lived in - or visited - Québec. A classic. **********************************************

Follow-up: 10 May 2008

After reviewing some of the comments, it's worth noting Mon oncle Antoine is NOT - and probably wasn't MEANT to serve as standard Hollywood/American cinema for mass market sales. A coming of age story, yes, but far more than simple memoirs of adolescence in 1940's Québec. Viewers who're looking for sheer entertainment at the expense of complex development of the characters will be sorely disappointed. Go watch action/adventure/romance/comedies to be amused. Watch Mon oncle Antoine to be drawn into a seldom seen, but absolutely remarkable society that has been overlooked and ignored for far too long.

The Grapes of Wrath is hardly an edge-of-the-seat thriller, yet the story and characters are what makes this American classic an enduring film. Mon oncle Antoine is in the same genre.

I saw this film when it first came out and have never forgotten it. My Uncle Antoine is much, much greater than the sum of it's parts. The movie, loosely, is about a pre-adolescent who is sent to live with a relative in a small town in Canada. There are adventures that seem more or less typical but underneath there is a current building. MUA has a leisurely pace but have patience, the reward is coming. I believe the film was sub-titled and as with all non-English speaking movies I've seen it is well worth avoiding any dubbed version. Inevitably dubbed movies reflect the attitudes of a new director and actors, with the additional necessity of lip-synching lines that don't quite fit. The English speaking Amarcord is a travesty, for example, while the sub-titled version sings. My Uncle Antoine is well worth the time to find and watch it in French.

I'm not quite sure as to why this is often regarded as the best Canadian film ever, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. It took me some time before I started caring about any of the characters, but when it was over, I realized that I had actually ending up liking it anyway. The look of the film is spectacular, and I don't think that I've ever seen a movie that felt more like winter, so the visuals were a handy distraction whenever the story seemed to be particularly slow in developing. To be sure, there were more than a few scenes when things seemed to be progressing rather slowly, but in the end, I would say that it was a good way to spend my time.

Near Quebec, a rural mine town, the establishing shots in the opening of Claude Jutra's much vaunted work, MON ONCLE ANTOINE cast its magic spell on us with its expansively mountainous locale, and the time-frame of the film's diegesis is clocked in 1949, right before Christmas.

Looking through the eyes of a teenage boy Benoit (Gagnon), Jutra's ethnographic artwork assiduously records what he sees and experiences in a few days' span, Benoit's uncle Antoine (Duceppe) and auntie Cécile (Thibault) run a general shop but also manage the town's undertaker business, a funeral ceremony near the beginning presided by Antoine and his shop clerk Fernand (Jutra himself, oozing with assured apathy) subtly conveys a ghost of friction between them, soon an overtly uncomfortable shot of Fernand and Cécile's encroaching closeness hints something smack of a tacitly connived adultery is on the sly, maybe that's why. On the Christmas Eve, townsfolk gather in the shop to see the Christmas display and purchase gifts, a young couple announce their engagement, a voluptuous wife comes to try on her ordered corset, by default becomes the cynosure, on the same floor, intrigued by his awakening curiosity of the other sex, Benoit fumbles around Carmen (Champagne), a comely girl of his age who also works in the shop, a budding puppy love is always adorable.

Still, even at Christmas, people die, Madame Poulin's (Loiselle) eldest son dies that day (the cross overhangs is jarringly prominent in that frame of pathos), and Benoit is permitted, for the very first time, to go with Antoine to pick up the body, to-and-fro, it is a sortie saddled with abundant snow, piercing coldness, influence of liquor, and an ingenuous teen's rite-of-passage to face death at point-blank range and saver his first taste of misery, deception and dissatisfaction from the adult world. From excited to dismayed, then exasperated, the non-professional Jacques Gagnon exerts devoted commitment during the key sequences where a crepuscular snowscape unremittingly precipitates viewers' body temperate to slump with the characters on the screen when riding through the rigors of a wintry night, during which, a snowfield face-off between Benoit and the old soak Antoine lets the emotional punch kick in, a lifetime of disappointment is encapsulated by Duceppe's drunkard hurling, especially when it is closely followed by what is happening inside Cécile's cozy boudoir, life is never fair and it is a miracle how can we not all succumb to be cynical and misanthropic after being buffeted by the bread-and-butter blues.

That is the damning feeling encircles Jutra's unflinching realism-inflected enterprise, it is boldly unsentimental, but also alarmingly despondent, that's how it reaches the finish-line, whatever Benoit sees through the windowpane, real or fanciful, this Bildungsroman of an impressionable boy can only descend further into uninviting harshness, much as the film's natural backdrop, MON ONCLE ANTOINE is more congenitally formidable than heartfelt compelling, but that's also where lies its enduring strength!