Helen - Autopsie d'une disparition

I saw about twenty films at the 2008 Sydney Film Festival, and Helen was probably my favourite feature. Steadfast in mystery, atmosphere, weirdness and emotional bleakness, the film follows the slow-growing obsession of the eponymous heroine with the former life of another girl, Joy, who disappeared in the local park one day, and whom Helen is 'playing' in a police reconstruction of the event.

The film has a beautiful cryptic quality, not in any conventional kind of whodunnit sense, but as regards both the elusive character of Helen and the nature of the film itself. The long, unbroken takes, great silences and restrained, almost self-effacing interactions amongst the characters generate fascination and curiosity. Is it some kind of hyper-naturalism? Or the opposite of naturalism? The players are often facing away from each other, or off the screen, or shot from behind, or just so that you can't see their faces. When a creepily patronising policewoman arrives to brief Joy's schoolmates about the reconstruction of the disappearance, half the scene is viewed via its reflection in a mirror.

Some of the dialogue is bizarre in its expositional nature, enough to prompt amusement, yet at others times it is completely evasive. Helen feels such a great hollow within herself (she has been raised in care, and her past and parentage are shrouded in mystery) that her vocalisation mostly consists of dull murmured statements. The strongest indication that some of the weirdness is in droll taste is an amusing scene in which a morose-looking teacher appears to do the worst job in the world in trying inspire the students with talk of 'blue skies thinking'.

The film is framed by metronomically perfect editing, fades to black, abstraction-making shots of dappled light filtering through park trees and a glacial ambient score. It reminded me at times of David Lynch in its poetic design. It offers a unique vision of a situation which opens onto multiple mysteries, most importantly the mystery of what is inside Helen, played with supernatural understatement by Annie Townsend. And it is emotionally confronting, with some moments that are very difficult to bear. This is beautiful cinema.

A drama about a teenager, Helen, who has been in care for most of her life.

A student at the local school Helen attends has gone missing and Helen volunteers to take the part of the missing girl in a police reconstruction. She gradually immerses herself in the role of the missing student and meets the girl's parents possibly as a way of trying to find what was missing from her own life in care and possibly as a way of finding her own identity.

A nice idea for a story but not big enough for a feature length film. A slow movie which is patchy in places.

The film-making team deserved ten points for having the right connexions to fund this film. Sadly have become so obsessed with shooting in scope they have forgotten any other element that might make the end product interesting. British critics love anything to do with identity. Make a film remotely along the lines of Hitchcock's Vertigo and they will fall over themselves praising it to heaven. Endless shots of tree leaves . A lead actress with the total on screen charisma of a potted plant. Antonioni used spacial dynamics to stunning effect long before this pair turned up. I thought I would go nuts if another shot arrived with a long slow dolly shot. But hey this is the sort of thing lottery funders and arts councils love to cultivate. Dull. Badly acted. It should have stayed as a short.

A barely funded film, the only reason I even came to know of Helen's existence was under the recommendation of a trusted friend. It is the feature debut of film-making duo Lawlor and Molloy, previously known for a series of rule-dictated shorts; rules to which Helen also abides.

A seemingly uncomplicated story, Helen's eponymous character is a care- home raised college student struggling to get by in a world where she has known neither family nor friends. She is hired to play the part of Joy, a missing girl from her college, in a police reconstruction of her disappearance. As Helen reenacts the life of Joy, she sees a world she has never known, and finds herself considering her own identity.

The film's slow motion credits introduce us to the long takes, harrowing score, and unsettling beauty of what we are soon to see unfold. The eerie music which becomes synonymous with the central theme of identity is simultaneously uncomfortable and entrancing, drawing us into the film whilst giving the sense it may not always be a pleasant experience. Nay-sayers have cited some of the film's less convincing performances as a deterrent, but the central performance is sufficiently strong, and often moving, to hold everything together in the face of the amateur actors. The effect of the long takes is wonderfully gripping, helping us descend with this character to her new role, and drawing us into the splendour of the slow pacing. The cinematography is undoubtedly the film's area of expertise, the effulgence and mastery with which the directors convey that which goes unspoken truly fascinating and endearing. Townsend's performance meshes with the melancholy of her character, crafting a beautiful and heartbreaking impression of a girl lost in life. Her fragility and dark wistfulness is perfectly portrayed, giving us a realistic and relatable character.

A superbly shot piece bearing all the symptoms of genuinely transcendent cinema, Helen is an unforgettable film, and one which explores its ideas in a subtle, moving, and inspirational manner.

Saw this at the 2008 Sydney Film Festival so apologies if I'm short on detail.

This film does look good, with an all-pervasive dreamy quality. That said, the vocabulary of camera movements is eventually too meagre and repetitive. At times it seems that every shot is a slow dolly.

Like Bloomer wrote in hir comment, the acting and dialog is peculiarly stilted. I initially took this for a deliberate ironic or alienating effect and I read the film as a satire of English New-Labour era 'caring'. The scenes with the teacher, policewoman and social worker all stuck with me for this reason.

But by the end I was forced to conclude that the awkwardness was unintentional and I that I have an overactive imagination. As Alan Donald commented, this film's virtues are simply overwhelmed by bad acting and direction.