“PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE”: Sand and foam

Published February 13, 2020 by Robert W. Butler at Butler’s Cinema Scene

 My rating: B 

121 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Looking like a period painting and moving with graceful deliberateness, Celine Sciamma’s “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” delivers a lesbian love story of aching delicacy.

But it’s more than that.

Set in the 1770s, the film follows a young woman painter, Marianne (Noemie Merlant), to an French island where she is deposited soaking wet on the beach. She’s been hired to paint another  young woman’s portrait…though she’s been warned it won’t be easy.

Her subject is Heloise (Adele Haenel), a wan beauty who, in the wake of the suicide of her older sister, has been brought home from the convent where she was raised so that she can marry the Milanese prince who was her dead sibling’s finance. His wealth will turn around the fortunes of Heloise’s financially strapped family. (Indeed, the clan’s castle has an eerie, half-empty feel that suggests they’ve been selling off furniture and fixtures to stay afloat.)

Thing is, the young man wants to know what this second sister looks like before committing to the the marriage.  Thus the portrait.

But as Heloise’s mother (Valeria Golino) notes, her daughter is waging a passive/aggressive war against the betrothal. Heloise refuses to pose, so Marianne will be introduced merely as a companion; she’ll have to observe Heloise, then make sketches of her subject once she returns to the privacy of her room.

Nome Merlant, Adele Haenel

Sciamma’s screenplay quietly outlines the relationship between the two women. Initially the quiet, sullen Heloise is suspicious of this newcomer. However it’s hard to stay cynical amidst the gorgeous beauty of the island and its spectacular beaches.  Nature opens up these young women to life’s sensuous possibilities; they further bond over the injustices of a male-dominated world.

It’s not just Heloise, who in effect is being sold into marital bondage. Marianne complains bitterly that in art school women were not allowed to paint male nudes…”to prevent us from making great art.”

There’s some discreet eroticism in “Portrait of a Lady on Fire,” but Sciamma isn’t interested in viewing the lovers through male eyes. Indeed, with the exception of a couple of extras, there are no men in this world.

At least not that we see.  Clearly they’re lurking somewhere; the two women find themselves bonding over the plight of the maid Sophie (Luana Bajrami), pregnant by some unseen peasant boy and contemplating a dangerous abortion.

Sexuality creeps up on these two almost without them recognizing it. Once they’ve spent intimate moments together, they marvel at the possibilities (“Do all lovers feel they’re inventing something?”).

Alas, this blissful respite cannot last. There’s Mama’s determination to marry off her only asset, not to mention the fact that Marianne has worked herself into Heloise’s good graces under false pretenses. We can see where this is headed.

But for a brief moment, at least, these two experience a freedom that will sustain them — must sustain them — for the rest of their lives.

| Robet W. Butler