User reviews

The Son is a movie about forgiveness, and how the very act of forgiving propels you forward as a human being. And to not only forgive the person who took away your son, but to become a guardian, a teacher to that person is an act of grace. Olivier exhibits this grace throughout the movie, but it is a grace that is not evident by just watching him on a day to day basis. You have have to follow him, listen to him, be with him constantly and understand his circumstances to realize this. I suppose, in a way, that many people possess this grace, but its hard to find it in them if you can't follow them around with a camera. Olivier, on the surface, would not seem like a very interesting person if you saw him on the street, or worked with him on a daily basis, and the boy seems like a dolt, but this movie makes them so interesting, so compassionate, not as characters, but as real people. It teaches you to look beneath the surface of things, of human beings, and if you look hard enough, you'll find beauty everywhere.

How do you make a film to capture the mindset of a stalker; or of an uncertain individual, sizing up an unknown enemy? The Dardenne brothers' solution in this movie is to shoot almost the entire film over the shoulder of its principal protagonist, giving the audience the same view, the same sideways glances and stolen observations, as the character. It's effective, but it doesn't make this the easiest movie to watch: at times it feels that everything you want to see is deliberately left out of shot. A film about a pair of fairly non-communicative people, it also contains almost no expository dialogue, so we are left to guess what each of them are feeling from their actions: in fact, as well as being terse or even silent, the characters are arguably people who don't really know what to feel any more. The film is thus an effective look at the bleakness of life in extreme circumstances, but again, this doesn't make it easy to relate to. The unusual method does bring some dividends: at first, it one thinks this will be a movie about a pervert, a mistake that owes everything to clichéd thinking and nothing to surprising honesty the directors and cast bring to this movie. In a sense, it's a film about the possibility of revenge, but with a more awkward, truthful and ultimately humane take on this notion than any you are likely to find in Hollywood. It's an interesting film, therefore, and deserving of praise; but not particularly fun to see.

The rapt watchfulness of this film is almost intolerable.

The minutiae of the woodwork instructor protagonist's drab and solitary daily existence merely repel us at first: his opaque, inexpressive, sulky-looking face (on the rare occasions that we see it, as opposed to the back of his neck) seems to confirm that there is nothing here for us, nothing but the muffled dullness of a dead-end existence, nothing but the droning of power tools in the sullen workshop and the heating-up of tinned soup in the bare little apartment.

Then the film's remorseless attention to the mundane starts to hint at some turmoil of this man's inner life, which is being kept rigorously in check by everyday rituals: the conscientious painful sit-ups, the critical measurement of the trainees' clumsy work. Something unbearable is being borne. Some terrible price is being paid. Olivier is like some powerful caged mammal, ever darting just ahead the camera's reach. We fear for the boys in his domininion -- especially for the new trainee, whom he stalks with a feral intensity.

And now we learn the awful sadness of what ails Olivier, and what has brought everything to a head. Now the camera watches his every move with mixed dread and wonder. Now every little thing he does matters, as we struggle to gauge what he will do next. Now the details of just what nail to use, of the trick to carrying a heavy wooden lintel (so like a cross), become utterly compelling -- not as displacement activities, but as things that can be relied upon, as tangible truths.

And finally, on long drive to a timber yard one late-autumn weekend, we watch a miracle unfold: halting, clumsy, almost wordless, although there is a sort of confession, and a sort of catechism. Wet leaves still stick to the boy's back from a momentary struggle in a wood as the newly-cut planks are stacked, silently, in the trailer. Master and apprentice are joined by the mystery of their craft. A father without a son has found a son without a father.

And now, at last, we understand that the film's watchfulness has been Olivier's own: his need to observe, to assess, to measure up (something for which he has a peculiar knack), in order to decide how the right thing is to be done. For only then is it done decisively, deftly and truly.

That a film of such simplicity, unflinching honesty and moral intensity can be made today is itself little short of miraculous. In both its symbolic language and its belief in the possibility of grace, it is firmly rooted in a particular north-European pietistic (and specifically Catholic) tradition. But never mind about that. This is a genuine and beautifully modest masterpiece of humane realism.

The Son, the latest film from Jean and Luc Dardenne (La Promesse, Rosetta) challenges us to look at our capacity for forgiveness and, in the process, articulates what it means to be human. According to the directors, the film is about "The moral imagination or the capacity to put oneself in the place of another". Olivier (Olivier Gourmet), a lonely carpentry teacher at a vocational rehabilitation school in Belgium, is a stolid, ordinary looking, and inexpressive man. His eyes are hidden behind thick glasses and his back is protected by a support brace. His entire being seems to be "in permanent disequilibrium" but conveys a pent-up energy that seems ready to explode. Olivier has been separated from his wife Magali (Isabella Soupart) since their young son was murdered during a bungled robbery and the half-hearted way they interact indicate the mourning has not been completed. When Francis (Morgan Marinne), a 16-year old boy just released from reform school, appears at the workshop, Olivier, seems strangely obsessed with the youngster, at first rejecting then taking him on at the school.

Not much happens during the first half-hour. The focus is on the minutiae of the workplace, the techniques of woodworking, the source of lumber, precise measurements, how to hold and carry wood and so forth. The claustrophobic camera follows Olivier around the workshop, breathing down his neck, back, and ears, creating a disorienting rhythm of almost unbearable intensity. There is no soundtrack other than the hammers and electric saws. Olivier follows Francis around with his eyes and we suspect there may be something unusual going on. This is confirmed when Olivier secretly steals the keys to Francis' apartment and lies on his bed. Later he meets the boy at a fast food place and impresses him with his ability to gauge distances with his eye. He then invites Francis to join him on the weekend to pick up some wood at a mill about 40km away. There is little dialogue on the trip and the tension is palpable. When the boy asks Olivier to become his guardian, the teacher demands to know the reason why he was locked up for five years. Their arrival at the mill leads to an inevitable confrontation and a startling conclusion of profound beauty.

The directors of 'The Son', brothers Jeane-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, are together experienced documentarians. This is made explicitly clear in the film's style, which affords the camera the rare opportunity in modern cinema to see rather than show. The difference is immense. Renoir, Ozu and Rossellini understood the difference, and now the Dardennes can be added to that illustrious list.

The Dardenne brothers are masters of exploding the minutiae of everyday life to beautiful, poetic proportions. Their films are largely concerned with observing people at work (see also Rosetta and La Promesse), obsessively detailing the intricate structures and routines of the mundane, the everyday. Hitchcock famously described film as life with the boring bits removed; a Dardenne film is life with the boring bits dissected, investigated and ultimately celebrated.

The film is about all the sons - the sons that were, the sons that are and the sons that will be - and all should see it.

I saw "le fils" last Saturday during a sneak preview with the directors and actors. All I can say is that this movie moved me. One can say that the shoulder's cam make him/her sick (this was my case). One can say that this movie is boring and that nothing happens (that is also my case). One can say that half of the screen is wasted by the Olivier Gourmet's face close-up. But, at the end of the movie, you can feel the power of the movie. You are moved by this movie because Olivier and the Dardenne expressed the purest emotions.

Do not watch this movie if you have ADD. It a very slow plot with superb acting that makes you stick with it. Although slow paced, it has an edge of your seat quality about it, that keeps you glued to the screen (if for no other reason knowing that the plot must pick up!).

Overall, it is little like watching paint dry, and then realizing the paint is drying in a very interesting and unforgettable pattern. I would recommend the movie for those studying film or acting, only as to see how to achieve an intensity without using flashy gimmicks or intense music. The direction is unlike most films in movies today, depending on superb acting (alone) to carry the movie through. If you are interested in this type of setup, get the movie. Otherwise, I would skip it!

The Son is one of the profoundest films that you will ever see, and yet, paradoxically, also one of the simplest. In this way, it resembles a biblical parable.

Adding to its simplicity is the fact that it is photographed entirely with a hand-held camera, so don't expect any breathtaking vistas of heartbreaking sunsets. In fact, for a considerable chunk of its running time we are offered little more to look at than the back of a man's head; but after we have been doing this for a while, something extraordinary begins to happen: we find that we can see directly into his soul.

The man is a carpenter named Olivier (played by the wonderful Belgian actor Olivier Gourmet). He isn't pretty to look at, he isn't particularly heroic, he has little sense of humour and his manner is frequently terse, but just watch what he does in the quiet moments! Watch how he tells you everything you need to know with just his body language and his eyes.

In one of the film's many quiet moments, his ex-wife studies him with tangible tenderness, and we can't help but be moved by their fragile intimacy. But she is ultimately unable to empathize with him. Can you? Will you? For my own part, I found Olivier to be the most inspirational character in all of cinema, and I wish - oh, how I wish! - that I could be just like him.

Olivier's story, which is essentially about loneliness and forgiveness, develops s-l-o-w-l-y in order to help us better make sense of the carpenter and his world. The dialogue is as banal and as functional as it would be in everyday life, and, to add to the sense of reality, the soundtrack contains no music at all, so the dramatic moments aren't heightened or emphasized with soaring strings or a hard rock beat. We are asked merely to observe, to listen and learn, and we end up thinking for ourselves in the process.

How profound is The Son really? Well, long after the end credits have rolled, you will probably find yourself haunted by the film and asking serious questions of yourself. You might also come to discover that the story is actually about three sons and not one, but that will all depend upon how you view the universe.

The Son is a transcendental experience and one of my very favourite films. This is one for the ages and one from the heart.

[ S P O I L E R S ]

In the Dardenne brothers' "Le Fils" ("The Son"), Olivier (Olivier Gourmet) teaches carpentry in a trade school for wayward boys that's a transition from juvenile detention to life in society. The camera focuses on Olivier, tightly on his head and shoulders, relentlessly on him. He walks around the workshop and school. First he makes sure a board is run through a chain saw properly, then he denies a new boy entry into his class, then surprisingly he sneaks around, running, breathless, to peek at the boy as he sits in the office. The boy, Francis (Morgan Marinne), wanted carpentry, but is put in metal shop. Later Olivier goes back to the office after a short period of spying on Francis and says he can come into carpentry after all. Thus begins a relationship between Olivier and this boy that seems to have odd overtones.

We see Olivier at home. He has a back problem and does sit-ups to strengthen his abdominal muscles. He is visited by his shyly smiling ex-wife, Magali (Isabella Soupart), who is to remarry, and will have a child. Olivier is alone, immersed in his work, of which he says only "it makes me feel useful." What we learn is that this new boy in the carpentry class killed their son. Magali is shocked to hear of his appearance: Olivier doesn't tell her the truth: that he has taken the boy into his class. Olivier has decided to nurture the boy; to spy on him; to confront him. It's all of those things.

The Dardennes, who were once documentarians and have made the dramas "La Promesse"(1996) and "Rosetta" (the 1999 Palme d'Or at Cannes), are relentless in their dedication to the mundane lives of working people. The intense narrative focus, which abjures any extraneous amusement or aesthetic flourishes, and the closeness of the handheld camera work, make constructing a wooden box or playing a game of arcade soccer or nearly falling off a ladder into momentous events. Every scene is so bluntly clear and in-your-face it almost hurts to watch. But it's a good hurt -- the hurt of passionately committed filmmaking.

There is no music, only the loud sounds of machinery and woodworking as a background for human voices. The Dardennes show some of the same ability to use a dogged devotion to an everyday reality to get at the essence of their characters and to dissect profound moral dilemmas that we also see in Bruno Dumont's Zen poems of dead-end French provincial life, "La Vie de Jésus" (1997) and "L'Humanité" (1999). One might also think of Rossellini or Bresson. But the Dardennes are Belgian. Olivier Gourmet, who stars in all three of the Dardennes' films, has a harsh, wooden manner. He rarely does anything but bark commands. His glasses hide his eyes.

In "The Son," Olivier is the essence of fairness. Imagine losing your son, and taking his young murderer as your protégé. Magali's reaction is hysterical when she discovers this. But Olivier calms her and procedes with the trip to his brother's lumberyard, where Francis will learn a lesson in recognizing types of wood and where the final showdown (though it is really a beginning) will occur. Neither Gourmet, who has acted in many films, nor Marinne, who has not, seems like an actor. Both have a stolid opacity and an independence that make you accept them as real, mysterious human beings.

Carpentry is an ideal métier for Olivier. Wood expands and contracts: the rules aren't absolute. But the work is honest and the job must be done right. Olivier is experienced, firm, and fair, and his eye can judge the exact distance between two points. No wonder Francis is diffident and respectful toward his teacher and quickly asks him, on this trip to the lumberyard, to be his guardian. For all his gruffness, Olivier is a great and good man. (Interesting that as the father in "La Promesse," Gourmet used much the same manner to convey a man who was cruel and dishonest.) Neither man nor boy is at all good looking or charismatic; both are unsmiling and determined in manner. But both of them earn our profound sympathy and respect in this astonishing, rigorous, humanistic film.

A theft that led to killing, intimacy with the murderer of your own son: these are primal, almost Oedipal situations, and "The Son" for all its ordinariness contains the stuff of high tragedy. Olivier's bluntness and strength and the boy's eager innocence allow truths to come out quickly. The early scenes may seem grating. The tight, jittery camera work is almost sick-making. But the later scenes are more and more moving and cathartic. At the end Francis and Olivier stand side by side in the lumberyard, dirty, wet, exhausted, and speechless. Nothing further needs to be said. Few films leave one with a fuller sense of completion and resolution. It's a superb moment. "The Son" teaches a very profound moral lesson: a wrong can be healed by returning it with goodness. For all the seeming roughness of the technique and the lack of flourishes, the effect is masterful. Gourmet received the prize for best actor at Cannes last year for his performance.

I have always craved for the Dardenne brothers material; more realistic than the real life. No music, no basic, ankward explanations, no useless and endless talks, only situations and the minimum of dialogues that the audiences have to deal with. That's what I like in this brother's cinema, their trademark, with always a social topic, as Ken Loach also more or less proposes. Gourmet is also excellent, as usual. In this drama, social drama, you are stuck to the story, to every scene, and slowly but surely understand what's going on. I am not a specialist of this kind of directing but I still appreciate it, and I was really moved by this one. Truly, deeply.

This is about forgiveness and about struggle. It's about a carpenter, who takes a new apprentice. They have a story in common. A story that can't be forgiven, but must be.

This is subtle and has lot of symbolism that you don't find out about, until hours after you've left the cinema. The carpenter and the apprentice get equal and not just in a symbolic way. The scene is Belgium, an industrial grey Belgium with much life in it. If you wake that life up.

Well worth seeing. Especially for Olivier Gourmet, a really great European actor.

Q: What has 5 letters but is the longest word in the English language? A: "Smiles" - because there's a mile between the two S's. Riddles are interesting because they're puzzling. However, once answered, they're oft unsatisfying and quickly forgotten. So it is with minimalist movies like "The Son" which tells of a Master joiner at a vocational school who shows an acute interest in a teen boy. The film has only two principals and almost no dialogue. It's barren of all the stuff people go to movies to see such as megastars, great locations, super effects, stunts, etc. However, it does manage to create an intriguing story before it poofs into nothingness. For what it is, "The Son" is very well crafted. However, in the grand scheme of film, it is little more than a riddle. (C+)

This film really challenged me. It made me reconsider my well-worn habits of movie viewing, my lazily rendered moviegoer inclinations. Utterly mundane in its realism, a slice of life if there ever was one, "The Son" by brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, is a film about forgiveness, the kind buried deep within the dull folds of a man's tedious day-to-day existence.

Oliver is a stern, expressionless carpentry teacher at a trade school for reformed youth transitioning into civil society. His thick glasses obscure his eyes, nonetheless his presence is startling in its austerity. A new student, Francis, becomes enrolled, one that Oliver takes a bizarre interest in, to the point of obsessively monitoring him both in and outside the workshop.

At this point in the film I'm thinking to myself: "So is this guy a pedophile? Is he looking to molest this kid?" I had much to learn.

As the movie progresses we learn that Oliver's young son was killed by Francis, an incident that happened five years prior, with which both he and his estranged wife are still coping. After learning this, all of Oliver's actions take on a different meaning. They are now to be scrutinized in a compassionate, yet discerning way. Up to this point I had been desperately trying to apply tried and true suspense scenarios to this film, which never did stick.

Oliver treats this boy like a son, however Francis is completely oblivious to the man's knowledge of his crime. He pays special attention to the boy's improvement. He is demanding, yet fair in his disposition. He eventually takes Francis out to a remote lumberyard so that he may learn to recognize different types of wood.

Now I'm all: "Oh man, he's totally going to exact sweet, sweet revenge!"

Here again I was thinking too simply. What follows is an elegantly paced final sequence, one that moved me beyond words.

There are many things that make this film work. There is no musical score, only the harsh sounds of power tools and clacking wood. There are hardly any cuts. A hand-held camera follows Oliver around voyeuristically at very close range, almost always over his shoulder. The viewer becomes part of the guilt-ridden cloud of claustrophobia strangling a broken man's conscience. The plot arc is pretty flat-line, but the amount of nuance in the acting is breathtaking. Most of the time Oscar and Francis are completely deadpan, yet the subtlest mannerisms imbue these characters with hyper-realistic depth.

This film is slow, but skillfully so. In the first half we are subjected to the minutiae of carpentry instruction, slightly enticed by Oliver's strange behavior towards Francis. But once we come to learn about the murder of Oliver's son, the behavior that was once dull suddenly becomes lush with significance. I was rapt with anticipation from then on out, dissecting each twitch and gesture.

This film really captivated me, but above all made me a more mature audience member.

This flick caught my eye at the local Blockbuster. I gave it a shot because of Gourmet's apparently outstanding performance (which it was). Although I expected more from a film dubbed as a "psychological thriller," I wasn't disappointed by The Son. It plays out more like a very long short story film than a full-fledged feature in the sense that most of the film is spent following the main character. This movie slowly unravels and reaches its climax in an un-climactic manner. It's worth watching for the modern camera work and very subtle but rather excellent acting. Just don't go into it assuming you're going to watch the next Se7en; it's not. A good independent flick. 7/10

The Dardenne brothers, Luc and Jean-Pierre, are an acclaimed Belgian filmmaking duo who direct, write, produce and edit their films together. They first became known for The Promise (1996) which was an unconventional story about illegal immigrants and the business behind it. Their next film was Rosetta (1999) a film which built around the idea of Franz Kafka's The Castle - where a prince gets thrown out of the castle; in Rosetta a girl gets thrown out of society. In Rosetta they started modernizing cinema, both philosophically and narratively, and continued it in Le fils which, to my mind, represents a vast turning point in the language of cinema. In their films social messages are combined with subtle documentary-like narrative.

The plot isn't as important to the Dardenne's as the movement is. The energy on the screen, how close we get to the characters, how close the distance between them and the audience is. The job Olivier does, woodcraft, has obviously something to do with this: it's the kind of work where you need to measure distances between destinations; Olivier is measuring the distance between himself and the boy.

There's no music at all in Le fils - as in the most films by the brothers. The opening credits will put the whole audience into silence and when the film's over the silence will fall to the theater once again. There's not much of dialog either in Le fils and through that we have to observe to get familiar with the characters. And this is what the Dardenne brothers are famous of - minimalism. We get to know the characters through their body language; through their eyes and gestures.

The story is about a carpentry teacher Olivier (Olivier Gourmet) who works in a rehab center. One day he refuses to take a new student to his class for an unknown reason, but eventually starts stalking and following him. When he finally accepts to take Francis (the new student) to his class an absurd relationship build between them.

The narrative is something mind-blowing for those unfamiliar with the earlier work of the brothers such as Rosetta (1999). This is a radical change in the language of cinema. The whole movie is filmed with a hand-held-camera so all the events are seen from the main character's shoulder. And that let's us to actually feel his emotions and get into his head. The narrative is very slow and quiet which let's us to observe and think on our own. The camera follows the character - it shows its life. The camera doesn't know, it doesn't see, it only sees what the character sees. So what has been cloaked from us? "Cloaking is very important" -Luc Dardenne.

Olivier, the main character, is so well built that one can't compare it with anything else. In Le fils he's very calm but yet it seems like he's aggressive and could explode at any second. The characterization is minimalist but very precise and considered. To me Le fils represents finest characterization out there today.

The main themes, this film deals with, are loneliness, guilt and forgiveness. It can be seen as some sort of an allegory for Christian redemption and forgiveness. The film is not religious but the Dardennes had a strong catholic upbringing and just as Krzysztof Kieslowski, an acclaimed Polish filmmaker, so do they understand what a vast impact Christianity has had on us and our conception of morality. They both have said that they're atheists and Luc Dardenne has written in his book, Behind Our Pictures: "God is dead, we know it. We're alone, we know it."

Le fils is quite a film, to my mind it's the best film made in the decade. It's multidimensional and complex a film which could be interpreted in a thousand different ways. To me the film was a touching moral study about the ultimate power of love, and forgiveness. Alongside with Rosetta this is one of the most experimental films made in the past few years. I think the brothers have reached a whole new level in cinematic narrative. The brothers are film-philosophers and Le fils has once again proved that film can and should be an instrument for thinking and contemplating.

CAUTION: If you easily become carsick or seasick, avoid this movie. Other reviewers have mentioned the fact that on the big screen, the shoulder-cam work can induce nausea in the viewer. Well, sorry to say, it has the same effect when viewed on a small TV screen.

Whoever came up with the shoulder-cam "technique" should be forcibly tied to the highest mast on the tallest ship and forced to sail around the world that way. I don't get it. Is it supposed to make the movie more realistic...as if you are right there in the room with the action? If so, the real world I inhabit does not lurch so precipitously unless I've had a few too many drinks. Furthermore, what are the benefits of being able to count the hairs in someone's nostrils? The slow pace of the film mentioned by other viewers would not have bothered me at all; but the camera work was a complete turnoff and I could not even finish watching this movie. Too bad...the storyline seemed quite promising.