Blink your eyes once for yes, twice for no
Ben Brown-Steiner
Issue date: 2/18/08 Section: Entertainment
It takes a good actor to make any character in a movie believable. It takes a delicate actor to make a character based on an actual person seem real. It takes an excellent actor to do this with only his left eye.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is an adaption of the book entitled Le Scaphandre et le papillon, published in 1997 and written - well, devised by Jean-Dominique Bauby. He was a prominent editor for the French magazine Elle when, at the age of 43, he suffered a massive stroke resulting in "locked-in syndrome." This left him completely paralyzed except for some movement of his mouth and full use of his left eye.
The movie is somewhat self-recursive; it is about how he (played by Mathieu Amalric) adapted to "Locked-In Syndrome" and how he wrote his memoir, which is where most of the events in the movie come from. But it isn't convoluted or distracting. Instead, it is a fine and beautiful adaptation of Bauby's remarkable story.
The movie begins with a first-person perspective, literally through the eyes of Bauby as he wakes up in the hospital. We experience, first hand, his blurred vision and the movement of his eyelids. The movie is unforgiving in its rendition of Bauby's viewpoint. During the beginning of the movie, we aren't given access to anything he can't access. We get our first glimpse of the protagonist only when he first catches a glimpse of himself in a reflection in a window.
We struggle along with Bauby as he learns to utilize a means of communication devised by the hospital and treatment staff. An assistant reads through an alphabet arranged in order of frequency of use, and Bauby blinks when the correct letter is reached. The process sounds excruciatingly slow, and it is. We experience it, slowly at first, and adapt to it, just as Bauby does.
We hear through his inner monologue, which comes from excerpts from his book, how he adjusts from libidinous editor to being trapped in his own body. We hear him state and realize through the visuals that "other than my eye, two things aren't paralyzed: my imagination and my memory."
The story is interspersed with a series of flashbacks showing his life before and during the stroke, showing his family and children. It also has scenes that come straight from Bauby's mind, fantasies and representations of how he now sees himself and what he yearns for.
His statements can sometimes be bitter, but more often are mournful and contemplative. While reflecting on a day at the beach with his family for Father's Day, he states, "My son wipes the saliva from my sealed lips. This invented holiday was never part of our emotional calendar."
The story is carefully crafted, and the cinematography is delicate but harsh. It has been nominated for four Oscars for Best Cinematography (Janusz Kaminski), Directing (Julian Schnabel), Editing (Juliette Welfling), and Writing (Ronald Harwood) based on a previously published work. Definatly one to check out.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is an adaption of the book entitled Le Scaphandre et le papillon, published in 1997 and written - well, devised by Jean-Dominique Bauby. He was a prominent editor for the French magazine Elle when, at the age of 43, he suffered a massive stroke resulting in "locked-in syndrome." This left him completely paralyzed except for some movement of his mouth and full use of his left eye.
The movie is somewhat self-recursive; it is about how he (played by Mathieu Amalric) adapted to "Locked-In Syndrome" and how he wrote his memoir, which is where most of the events in the movie come from. But it isn't convoluted or distracting. Instead, it is a fine and beautiful adaptation of Bauby's remarkable story.
The movie begins with a first-person perspective, literally through the eyes of Bauby as he wakes up in the hospital. We experience, first hand, his blurred vision and the movement of his eyelids. The movie is unforgiving in its rendition of Bauby's viewpoint. During the beginning of the movie, we aren't given access to anything he can't access. We get our first glimpse of the protagonist only when he first catches a glimpse of himself in a reflection in a window.
We struggle along with Bauby as he learns to utilize a means of communication devised by the hospital and treatment staff. An assistant reads through an alphabet arranged in order of frequency of use, and Bauby blinks when the correct letter is reached. The process sounds excruciatingly slow, and it is. We experience it, slowly at first, and adapt to it, just as Bauby does.
We hear through his inner monologue, which comes from excerpts from his book, how he adjusts from libidinous editor to being trapped in his own body. We hear him state and realize through the visuals that "other than my eye, two things aren't paralyzed: my imagination and my memory."
The story is interspersed with a series of flashbacks showing his life before and during the stroke, showing his family and children. It also has scenes that come straight from Bauby's mind, fantasies and representations of how he now sees himself and what he yearns for.
His statements can sometimes be bitter, but more often are mournful and contemplative. While reflecting on a day at the beach with his family for Father's Day, he states, "My son wipes the saliva from my sealed lips. This invented holiday was never part of our emotional calendar."
The story is carefully crafted, and the cinematography is delicate but harsh. It has been nominated for four Oscars for Best Cinematography (Janusz Kaminski), Directing (Julian Schnabel), Editing (Juliette Welfling), and Writing (Ronald Harwood) based on a previously published work. Definatly one to check out.
2008 Woodie Awards
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