Leave it
to the French to find a place for kung fu in an 18th
century corsets and werewolves epic. And, give them credit for
including a generous helping of sex, bawdiness and a dash of
Native American mysticism, too, just to make things interesting.
Precisely that and more can be found in writer/director
Christopher Gans hyperactive historical horror melodrama The
Brotherhood of the Wolf (Le Pacte des Loups), an
everything-including-the-kitchen sink film that defies almost
any form of explanation.
I should
get this out in the open right upfront: I loved this movie. I
felt like teenage schoolgirl what with all the fancy costumes,
fabulous hair, half-naked men, erotically passionate sex and
wild over-the-top daring-do. In fact, even at 142 minutes I
didn’t want it to end and I can’t wait to take all my
girlfriends just so we can ogle Marc Dacascos’ chest and get
lost in Samuel Le Bihan’s eyes.
Schoolgirl
infatuation aside, Brotherhood is a fabulously
entertaining movie and a frenetically pleasurable motion
picture. Magical from the very first frame, I have trouble
believing that I’m going to see few films better in 2002, not
something a critic of any regard would normally admit during the
usually craptastic month of January. But I’ve gone and said it,
so all that’s left now is to check back in December and see if
my opinion still holds true.
In 1764 a
mysterious creature stalked the French countryside of Gevaudan.
During the beast’s reign of terror it killed over sixty women
and children. At the highpoint of the mauling, the King of
France sent a special envoy to the region to try and discover
the identity of the creature. In the end, it was concluded that
the beast must be some kind of wolf as it was the only animal
imaginable that could explain the state of disembowelment found
in the remains of each victim.
Brotherhood of the Wolf
starts from this historical jumping off point and then runs with
it to the extreme corners of genre instability. In Gans version
of events, he imagines medieval conspiracies, opulent palace
intrigue and a world where explorer, biologist, philosopher and
adventurer Chevalier de Fronsac (Le Bihan) and his Native
American blood brother Mani (Dacascos) could use their wits and
martial arts expertise to solve the X Files-like mystery.
There is
enough plotting here to fill five movies. Fronsac becomes
infatuated with not one but two mysterious women, the lovely
noblewoman Marianne de Morangias (Émilie Dequenne) and the
secretive courtesan Sylvia (Monica Bellucci). Marianne’s brother
Jean-François (Vincent Cassel) holds his own mysteries, recently
returning from Africa with a severed arm and an odious
disposition. Also, a band of gypsies has set up residence in the
countryside seemingly immune from the beast’s ravenous taste.
But then, so are the local gentry, the animal seemingly only
having a predilection for the breast of the local peasantry.
Frenetic
and loads of fun, Ganz has constructed a funhouse of a motion
picture that has its hand in so many different stylistic
influences it would be impossible to list them all. That said,
the giddy lunacy of Siu-Tung Ching’s A Chinese Ghost Story
and Ronny Yu’s The Bride With White Hairspring
immediately to mind as obvious inspirations for all of the
historical anarchy, but then so do the work of Claude Chabrol
and John Landis. It is as if Gans and co-writer Stéphane Cabel
decided to crib from the best and most outrageous they could
find, and in doing so created for themselves an elegantly
entertaining epic motion picture.
The actors
all fit their parts beautifully, with the graceful Dacascos and
luminous Bellucci having the most impact. Mani’s first foray
into a rain soaked battle is a stunner, his moves thrashing
around as if they were manufactured with a bullwhip. While
supremely handsome, he’s also a fine actor with a piercing stare
that shudder’s the soul. Bellucci is very much an actress cut
from the same cloth, able to do more with a glance than most do
with a Shakespearean soliloquy. She’s also perfectionistically
beautiful, and while I know perfectionistically isn’t
technically a word, it very well should be when considering the
glamorously luminous actress. Besides, any woman that allows a
camera to fondle her obscenely perfect breasts (life is so
unfair!) before dissolving into picturesque snow covered
mountains deserves all the props I can give her.
This is a
film crafted with love, care and abandon, however, and it shows
all the way down from the acting and directing to the production
design and technical workers that must have been jazzed to work
on something with such hyperactive scope. Dan Lautsen’s luscious
cinematography stands out, as does Joseph LoDuca’s thunderously
appropriate score, while Dominique Borg’s fascinating costumes
(love those brothel getups) are dreamy in their excellence.
Granted,
not all of Brotherhood of the Wolf works so well. There’s
so much plot in the film it almost bursts from the seams, and
the animal created by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop is a tad on the
laughable side. But so what? I had more fun watching this film
than I’ve had at the movies in a very long time. After a
relatively lackluster December and going into the dog days of a
new year, this is a refreshing reminder of how good the medium
can really be when in the hands of talented risk-taking auteurs.
Brotherhood of the Wolf is a real winner and rollicking
good time.
