Oh, Julianne

Julianne Moore most recently adorned the screen in Tom Ford's A Single Man. She played a bitter alcoholic, raging at the loss of her husband and also at Colin Firth's single man, the one she believed had got away. She was great in it. She was only in a couple of scenes, but, as is her want, she owned them. 'Adorned' is the correct word; she was like this fabulous bauble. She glitters enough that her periphery position almost decentres the film.

Due to the strength of that performance, I decided to revisit some of her past work. And I came across 'Safe', a 1995 indie in which she plays an LA housewife who develops an allergy to modern life. It's directed by Todd Haynes, who she has since worked with in the widely-appreciated Far From Heaven.

Like much of Haynes' work, the film appears to be a head-slappingly broad approach to its material, and yet with his skill, is actually strangely oblique. The subjects: the sterile environment of a rich LA home, the rejection of certain Western twentieth century symbols of affluence (the home, the car, the air conditioning system and even the pest control) could be a little obvious, done to death and sterile themselves.

Yet, Hayes visual precision (it's the visual equivalent of Radiohead's disarming song 'Everything in its Right Place; a beautifully constructed, seemingly perfect veneer which hides an incredibly disturbing undertone) and the absolute stillness he creates, are completely disarming. This calm and controlled atmosphere is scary, and suggestive, stuff.

And Julianne Moore is no adornment here; the film drapes itself around her. And she looks stunning in it. It's an unusual role for her; she's not the strong, empowered woman of Magnolia or Hannibal, the intelligent but oppressed woman of Far From Heaven or The End of the Affair. Her character is completely unremarkable. Some may say she's a little slow. She's perhaps even, on a bad day, an empty vessel.

Yet there's no sneering or broad strokes from Julianne. She plays the role with conviction and compassionate. She let's the film do the talking, yet she is the film; she appears in nearly every scene.

All hail Julianne; her effortless grace triumphs again. In retrospect, calling her a bauble was a little unfair. She'll be the angel on top of my Christmas tree.

A Prophet

A Prophet is a messenger of God. In the film that shares the same name, the messenger is Malik El Djebena (Tahar Rahim) and his God is Mafia kingpin Cesar Luciani (Niels Arestrup). Malik delivers the word of this god (or godfather) to the inmates of the prison he is incarcerated in, and, later, beyond. This word often expresses itself in violence or money.

A messenger is also someone who experiences visions. Here, Malik is visited by the ghost of a man he murders. Is it a vengeful vision, or a vision that will help him along the way? To add another twist, Malik also experiences visions of a deer. Later on it appears these visions were prefigurative; in the final third, there is a spectacular (and pivotal) road accident involving a stag.

It’s this melding of symbolism and allusion with staples of the prison and gangster dramas (drugs, mob hits and the odd predatory inmate in the showers) that make A Prophet a surprising, original and gripping piece of filmmaking.

It also helps that its directed by the masterful Jacques Audiard, who was behind 2005’s sleeper hit The Beat That My Heart Skipped (which made an instant pin-up of star Romain Duris). Perhaps this movie will do the same for its young star; indeed, Tahar Rahim delivers a performance easily equal to Duris’s. Although perhaps lacking the star charisma of Duris, Rahim makes up for it in sheer ability.

The actor is integral- and in fact rarely off screen- in this tale of attempting to define an identity in a place so adamant to suppress any traces of individuality. It’s hard to say what the most defining aspect of the film is; it’s two and a half hour length is so rich in plot, character and thematic detail to almost prove overwhelming. However, it gives the viewer a more than worthy excuse to go back and watch it again. And again. It seems to be the case that this film will quickly become regarded as a classic, and rightly so.