Calvaire (2004) – Grim and Nasty New French Extremity (Review)

Despite its Belgian production, Calvaire (2004 – also known as The Ordeal), became an integral film within the cinematic phenomena of New French Extremity that reared its grim and nasty head around the birth of the new millennium. The movement that championed directors such as Gaspar Noé, Pascal Laugier, Xavier Gens and Marina DeVan sparked inordinate amounts of controversy due to their explicit depictions of sex and violence. Despite the obvious shock value attributed to these films, they would also ignite commentary and discussion on themes such as gendered violence, the socio-political climate of France, and what it means to be a human. Calvaire is no different as it follows the horror sub-genre’s ‘how-to’ guidelines, but still succeeds in standing out from the rest of the New French Extremity crowd.

Directed by Fabrice Du Welz, Calvaire stars Laurent Lucas as travelling singer Marc Stevens, whose vehicle breaks down on his way out of town after a performance at a nursing home, leaving him stranded in a forest before being rescued by a local man who leads him to an inn. The innkeeper, Mr. Bartel (Jackie Berroyer), initially seems affable and gives Marc a room, food and an offer to fix his van, but Marc’s luck soon turns as he realises that Mr.Bartel isn’t as friendly and hospitable as he originally thought. After setting fire to Marc’s van and tying him to a chair, it soon becomes apparent Mr. Bartel is suffering from a delusion in which he believes Marc is his long lost wife Gloria, who had previously abandoned him. It isn’t just Mr Bartel that Marc has to fear though, as the surrounding village is full of savage and delusional locals, all of whom are mourning their own loss of Gloria.

Subverting the typical genre trope of a woman trapped in peril, attempting to escape her twisted kidnapper, and also having to deal with the dangerous rural outside, Calvaire still manages to produce a commentary on the dangers that femme people can encounter within a misogynistic and patriarchal society. By placing a male into a position typically occupied by a female (there’s also an actual projection of Marc as Gloria), Calvaire becomes a commentary on how misogyny and gendered violence is an all-encompassing act that exists not only in the wider world and community, but also within the home and what is typically thought of as a “safe space”.

The lack of female characters (except for the first sequence), serves as a stark reminder that the patriarchy also affects men in a detrimental way – especially when it comes to the ability to healthily explore emotions such as sadness and grief. This is the case with Mr Bartel, as well as society’s handling of men and masc people who experience sexual harrassment, and who are the victims of sexual violence.

One of the reasons Calvaire manages to stand apart from it’s contemporaries within the New French Extremity movement is that, as well as embodying the nastiness, griminess and desaturated colour palette of the genre, it also contains moments of dark humour – including an almost Twin Peaks David Lynch-esque descent into utter ridiculousness that still manages to creep audiences out while causing them to laugh in disbelief. One such scene is a dance number the village men break into in the local pub, complete with a disjointed and haunting piano play-along.

The character of Marc is basically a blank slate, and save for the disdain he has for his overtly sexual fans, we’re never privy to any sort of background, history, or in fact much of his personality. This furthers the idea that he is ripe for projection for both Mr Bartel and the villagers, and for the audience viewing the film it means that we can easily place ourselves into marc’s situations.

Calvaire is a hauntingly grim portrayal of the dangers that a misogynistic society provides for all genders, and with it’s violence, nihilism, and utter lack of hope, it’s a stalwart of the New French Extremity movement.

Ygraine’s Archive: Calvaire (2004)