Someplace near the windswept beaches of Brittany, late in the 18th century, an artist named Marianne (Noémie Merlant ) arrives by boat. She's to paint the portrait of a young, engaged woman named Héloïse (Adèle Haenel); she's not the first, and she might not be the last—others, she's told, failed at the challenge set forth by Héloïse's mother: to paint the girl without her knowledge. Hers is an unwanted marriage. But from the bizarre setup comes a fiery if painful tryst between the women. Unthinkable in its time, in the hands of writer/director Céline Sciamma (Water Lillies), Portrait becomes a methodical and believable look at sexual politics, family strife, loveless marriage, lust, connection and artwork. Perhaps even better, it is free from any male fantasy dynamics and instead becomes a relatable and powerful piece of LGBTQIA2+ filmmaking.
Part of the film's triumph comes in its excellent casting. Merlant and Haenel phase so effortlessly between timid young women thrust together under strange circumstances and almost ravenous lovers more in need of each other's presence and touch than simply wanting them. Haenel in particular carves out a strong performance someplace between her overbearing mother, a recently deceased sister and the convent life in her character's past. Her chemistry with Merlant hangs thick over even the simplest meetings, but Haenel never loses the thread of pain so important to her character's development, even up to the moments before the credits roll. Merlant herself shines as well, all blustery bravado and tortured painterly nonsense as she succumbs to her feelings, a warmer and caring person than we'd have expected once she relents to her passions.
And over everything, cinematographer Claire Mathon's bright yet muted color and lighting schemes belie the deeper urges afoot, and with most scenes resembling paintings themselves—be it a simple meeting in an estate kitchen or a hauntingly gorgeous scene of singing—it would be impossible to pinpoint one moment that feels out of place. Even a seemingly insignificant chamber maid (Luàna Bajrami) hides more than she lets on, and discovering her secret feels more like uncovering a sisterhood than it does a morality play—these women look out for each other, even to their own detriment, even at a time when there's no telling what repercussions might have come to bear.
In the end, Portrait is a triumph, even if it eschews sappiness for a more authentic look at love at the wrong time and place. It's as beautiful as it gets, a cinephile's dream, which, yes, can mean it feels slow. But nothing is out of place in Sciamma's world and vision. This one will stick with you.
9
+The performances; the music; the backdrop and look
-Not for film newbies; irritatingly painstaking at times
Portrait of a Lady on Fire
Directed by Sciamma
With Merlant, Haenel and Bajrami
Center for Contemporary Arts, Violet Crown, R, 122 min.
With subtitles
