Sotto la sabbia

Charlotte Rampling's marvellously judged performance as an Englishwoman whose French husband disappears whilst swimming is quite simply excellent. This is a perfect vehicle for Rampling as she is now, a beautiful mature woman who just oozes class. Without histrionics, she conveys the total sense of desperation at the loss of her husband, something which she will obviously never come to terms with. In terms of plot, this film is quite thin, but it is well worth watching for the central performance, which is thoroughly moving. Could be very bleak and depressing as a subject, but actually isn't at all. The time passed very quickly - my ultimate test of a good film!

A surprising change of pace for (up to that stage in his directorial career) shock auteur François Ozon in the wake of bourgeois facade-ripping as REGARDE LA MER and SITCOM, this minimalist masterpiece deals with love, loss and grief yet never becomes heavy-handed.

Middle-aged Marie (luminous Charlotte Rampling making a belated but extremely welcome return to leading roles), an English literature professor at a Parisian university, quite literally loses her husband (hauntingly sad-eyed Bruno Cremer) while on seaside holiday. She takes a nap on the beach as he's out swimming. When she wakes up, he has disappeared. Accidentally or voluntarily drowned ? Hiding perhaps from a stifling marriage ? Ozon offers no solid answers but focuses but focuses on Marie's stubborn denial of her husband's departure as she resumes her professional and social life as if nothing had happened. While those around her assume she's slipping from sanity, the truth proves considerably less tangible and far more nuanced. A tentative affair with the friend of a friend seems doomed from the start, leading to the shattering final scene, all the more heartbreaking for being open to any number of interpretations, none of them particularly cheerful.

Even though the filmmaker has reigned in his wicked humor and morality-defying shock tactics, this fortunately doesn't mean he has gone all solemn on us. The general lightness of tone might indeed startle in light of the subject matter, plus there's even an astonishingly erotic moment when Marie imagines herself being groped by both husband and lover in an elegant masturbatory fantasy. Ultimately, this is very much Rampling's show and clearly intended as such. Rarely out of frame for more than an instant here, she delivers the type of performance – both subtle and sensuous – that has been her stock in trade since she started enchanting movie audiences worldwide back in the '60s, her mysterious beauty undiminished (if anything, augmented more like) by the passing years. Contrary to her personal code of conduct (she will rarely work more than once with the same director, always looking for new experiences to further her craft and personal growth), she went on to star in Ozon's deceptively upbeat SWIMMING POOL and took a supporting role in his first failure to date, the atrocious ANGEL.

Under the Sand (2000)

The plot is simple, almost too simple, and because very little happens, it depends on mood and deeply serious thinking about death to survive. And on Charlotte Rampling to have the nuance and range to pull it off.

And it works, overall, because of just those two things: heavy subject and Rampling. There are issues (and tricks, cinematically) with ghosts and memories, but these play small against the bigger strain of the lead woman dealing with this sudden trauma in her life. Even though the main event in the movie happens at the start, I don't dare mention it because its surprise is important (I didn't know it was coming, and liked the way it was handled very much).

Director Francois Ozon never seems to quite nail down the pace and editing of his films, at least for American sensibilities. Even the sensationally complex Swimming Pool doesn't quite use its material to propel us in every scene. But let's turn that on its head and say that Ozon uses emptiness and gaps in the action to give his movies breathing room, or maybe, in some old fashioned sense, the make them serious. When nothing is "happening" you can only start to think and dwell on the events, along with the characters. In Under the Sand there is nothing else to do and yet it's exactly what Rampling in her role has to do: think and dwell. It's slow at times, yes, but only if you don't let yourself relax and get absorbed.

And, like the character, confuse what is real from what is chimera, and what she needs with what she once had, and even one man from another. Even her fluid bi-lingual abilities add to the duality. By the time you get to the final scene you are left wondering what true love really is, and whether it's worth it. Because maybe it is. She has something most people do not, and it seems like a sickness and a gift at once.

As a film script writer and director, Ozon has evolved and matured in "The Swimming Pool" and "In the house," developing his pet themes involving sex lives and mental infirmities. But the the real value of this film will remain Ms Rampling's performance which is comparable to her turns in "The Night Porter, " "The Damned," and "Hannah." She is evidently magical whenever she works with Ozon.

Mental illness as a lifestyle option seems to be the theme of this work. Very potent in examining the reality and meaning of loss and acceptance (or lack thereof). The always captivating Charlotte, (great to see Dirk Bogarde's little girl all growed up) looking elegant as a woman of a certain age in a very Anglo-Parisian sheath dress-wearing kind of way, is wonderful in her ability to convey contained confusion struggling to make sense of a pain too great to bear. Also noteworthy, stylistically, is a rare instance of unease being effectively evoked in spite of sunlit sets and daytime outdoor shots. No doom and gloom here, she gets to suffer in the light of day. A film that will remain with the moviegoer long after viewing because of its painful emotions and its visually powerful final shot.