Le clan

Gaël Morel (Wild Reeds, Under Another Sky, Full Speed) seems to continue to test cinematic minefields and while not every film is a success, they each indicate that there is a reservoir of talent in this writer/actor/director that will eventually galvanize into to a significant voice. This much maligned little tale 'Le Clan' (oddly but in the end appropriately titled in English 'Three Dancing Slaves') has more going for it than most audiences acknowledge: for all its weakness there are some very sensitive moments about father/son relationships, filial love, romantic love, racism, bigotry, and the ever-growing dysfunctional family problem.

Three brothers live with their recently widowed father in a small town near the Alps in France. Marc (Nicolas Cazalé) is a rebellious youth, into drugs and petty crime and at constant contention with his overbearing father (Bruno Lochet); Christophe (Stéphane Rideau) is recently released from prison and is trying to live straight by starting from the bottom in a pork factory and working his way to the top; Olivier (Thomas Dumerchez) is the youngest and though tattooed and quasi-rebellious is the sensitive one whose gender issues are just beginning to focus. The film is told in three versions, one by each brother, and from these segments we paste together a family disrupted and needy. Marc fights and performs dangerous deeds, Christophe struggles to re-create his broken life, and Olivier finds love and passion with Hicham (Salim Kechiouche), Marc's friend, who is North African and repeatedly dances the capoeira, a slave dance, for his own expression and his need to connect with Olivier. Despite the differences in these young men there are repeated encounters that signify their bonding. One quiet scene shows the father awake, sitting and watching the troubled sons asleep, naked, entwined in each other's bodies: it should be clipped for a still shot as it is very beautiful.

There really is little resolution of an overall story; these three short stories simply end in their own fashion and the interlocking meaning is left to the viewer. Each brother is a 'slave' in his own manner. Yes, there are moments of violence, a pitiful animal abuse scene, and gaps in dialogue that bump the film around in a clumsy fashion, but look for the little moments of visual beauty and the movie takes on different meaning. In French with English subtitles. Grady Harp

A Gael Morel film whose theme will be familiar to viewers who have seen "Wild Reeds" or "Come Undone" : young, handsome, sexy, disturbed young Frenchies trapped in the limited prospects offered by the mediocre towns and cities far from Paris. Here we have the three sons of an indifferent French father and a Maghreb mother, recently deceased. Where they live horny young men lack even a town whore for relief and, resignedly, must rely on the local grouchy, bored transvestite.

Morel favorite Stephane Rideau is a 20-something, "scared straight" ex con who will trade his youthful wildness for the dull comfort and security of middle class respectability while his two younger brothers grapple, respectively, with intolerable powerlessness and gay love.

All the guys are eye candy and Morel and his actors have never suffered from fear of frontal. All of which would mean little were it not for the interesting characters and Morel's unique cinematic style. Rent it. You'll enjoy it. And if it turns out you disagree, hell, it's only 88 minutes including the credits crawl. Jim Smith

Director Gael Morel debuted as a young actor in Andre Techine's excellent "Wild Reeds". In it he plays a teenage boy who develops an obsessive passion for a young Frenchman of North African descent, played by Stephane Rideau; Rideau being something of a prototype of the exotic, masculine male in question, (though in "Three Dancing Slaves" he has clearly outgrown the boyish stage.) In retrospect it's safe to guess that Techine cast him in such a role, having knowledge of Morel's own passion for the fore mentioned type. Morel films as a director are clearly dominated by this passion, overshadowing his treatment of the elements of story and character development which are somewhat lacking in his movies this far.

Morel is true to himself is expressing his personal fascination with the specific male type in question. "Three Dancing Slaves" abounds in images of the actors in various states of dress and undress, filmed with great care and with a genuine love for the form. It's a very specific gay aesthetic, expertly executed and one that will resound with those who share Morel's particular tastes.

Yet Morel aspires to more as a filmmaker and so he should. "Three Dancing Slaves" reveals moments of promise but ultimately falls short in most areas. His future as a movie director of merit will depend on his own development as an artist and his ability to bring his passion to the screen as an integral and balanced part of his work.

Despite the inherent weakness of the the film, "Three Dancing Slaves" does at least mark Morel as a possible talent to watch.

This movie exhibited wonderful filmography, surprisingly convincing performances and gorgeous young men. Where this film was lacking tremendously was the plot. Even though it had so much potential, it's execution was haphazard, and too much time was spent on unnecessary scenes, so toward the end it felt rushed, and the relationship between Olivier (Thomas Dumerchez) and Hicham (Salim Kechiouche) if it were developed more deeply, would have made for a wonderful film. Finally, the ending left me lacking as if it would continue next week. In other words, the entire film felt like an episode in a larger series. It felt unresolved; unfinished. And the extended Soliloquy, conveyed in the form of letters written to Christophe (I believe) certainly did not make up for a proper ending. That really frustrated me.

We tend to laud films like American Beauty because they peel away the veneer of idealized American domesticity to reveal lives of quiet desperation. We take comfort in that -- knowing that even seemingly perfect lives are, under the surface, as miserable as we might view our own to be. In Morel's Le Clan (Three Dancing Slaves was the title I saw it under here in the States), we get a truer, less sanitized view of real lives laid bare. The desperation isn't quiet. It's crazed and exposed and all too believable. It's a very masculine film showing how men just do what they do. No apologies and, all too often, no explanations. Yet, somehow, it's relatable and understandable. Yes, it's a slice of pain punctuated with too few moments of what we would call joy. But sprinkled throughout are small glimpses of a more beautiful world. It's not lost on these characters. And it's not lost on the viewer. I found it haunting and heart-wrenching.