Serene on the surface, seething with desire beneath, Alain Guiraudie’s French thriller Misericordia is fascinatingly strange, creepy, and suspenseful.
Much as the filmmaker’s masterful 2013 thriller Stranger by the Lake planted a sinister seed by setting a serial killer loose in a tranquil outdoor gay cruising spot, here Guiraudie upends a seemingly wholesome homecoming in the countryside with dark undercurrents of sex and violence.
Although, beyond a couple of pointed shots of male nudity and one shot of bleeding, there’s little sex or violence onscreen. Merely the potential for the former and the threat of the latter linger equally over nearly every scene in this odd chamber piece set in a remote village tucked amid the forested hills of Occitanie in Southern France.
Jérémie, portrayed with an intense gaze by Félix Kysyl, returns to his home village from the city for the funeral of his former boss, the town’s devoted baker, who was like a father to him. He’s welcomed with an open heart by the baker’s widow, Martine (Catherine Frot), and received much less warmly by her adult son, Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand).
Hints of a brotherly rivalry clearly run deeper, certainly for Vincent, who eyes Jérémie with suspicion from the moment he sees him. Suspicion shifts to outright aggression after Jérémie decides to stay in town for a while in the home of Martine. She’s happy to have Jérémie’s company. He’s out of work back in Toulouse, and, hey, maybe he’ll take over the bakery. None of this pleases Vincent.
Jérémie is also eager to rekindle a friendship with Walter (David Ayala), who happens to be Vincent’s best friend, and to whom Jérémie seems inexplicably attracted. Ayala is especially effective portraying slobbish Walter’s utter confusion over Jérémie’s ardent interest.
Little does Walter know, but inexplicable attraction runs rampant through these hills. Even sly, elderly priest Philippe, played by Jacques Develay in the film’s most complex performance, can’t deny desire. But, of course, desires will be thwarted. Resentments fester, aggression escalates, and someone in this tiny town goes missing.
As suggested by the title, which means “mercy” or “compassion” in Latin, Guiraudie doesn’t just escalate to homicidal intentions but also explores ensuing acts of compassion. Throughout, the script and direction maintain an air of quiet dread, aided by both the commanding presence of Kysyl — serving the unnerving vibe of a young, handsomer Klaus Kinski — and the isolated, pastoral setting.
These verdant woods, brilliantly shot by Stranger by the Lake cinematographer Claire Mathon, are abundant in varieties of morels and mushrooms. So, tromping through the woods is a town pastime, leading many of the movie’s characters searching through the morning mist that clouds the forest. Some go to escape, others to hunt, and not just for mushrooms.
Guiraudie gets maximum mileage out of the photogenic fungi, which, as it turns out, grow extremely well in the soil over a hastily buried body, a dead giveaway to murder perhaps. Ultimately, the local gendarmerie gets involved in the form of an inspector (Sébastien Faglain) and his steady assistant (Salomé Lopes).
Faglain’s droll deadpan performance as the incredibly persistent, slightly insouciant investigator helps bring the movie home with an unexpected comedic twist, which might be the most inexplicable desire of all, but it works.
Misericordia (★★★★☆) is unrated and playing in select theaters, including Alamo Drafthouse Bryant Street, 630 Rhode Island Ave. NE in Washington, D.C. Visit www.fandango.com.
A woman in search of meaning and closure gazes upward in a forest as streaks of sunlight bathe over her. She is Tony, Obie, and Drama League Award winner Idina Menzel, who graces the Playbill cover of Broadway's newest musical, Redwood.
Over the course of two intermission-less hours, Menzel -- who is also the show's co-conceiver and collaborator -- plays Jesse, a stereotypical high-strung New Yorker who belts songs, drives from Manhattan to California, talks excessively about grief, experiences flashbacks and memories of her deceased son, Spencer (Zachary Noah Piser) fights with her wife, Mel (De'Adre Aziza), and befriends two tree scientists, charming them in song with the following request:
It can't be easy to write a play that successfully cries out to the world "Look what happened here! Understand!" Many fall way too hard on the side of over-explaining, feeding the drama with fiction-busting expository and presenting their characters as either heroes or villains to make every point crystal clear.
Their hearts may be in the right place, but they so woefully underestimate their audience that they lose it. The truth is, everyone who has made it to adulthood knows that life is messy and that even the "good guys" stumble and struggle. The plays that can deliver their message amid this human ambiguity are the powerhouses in this tradition, playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins being a prime example.
Like a warm hug wrapped in a warmer turtleneck, A Nice Indian Boy spares no layer of sentiment limning the love story of two nice Indian boys, Naveen and Jay.
Actually, Jay, played by Looking's Jonathan Groff, is a white American orphan who was adopted and raised by an older Indian couple.
They've since passed on, but Jay is still the nice Indian boy whom Naveen (Karan Soni) brings home to meet his traditional parents, Megha (stand-up comedian Zarna Garg) and Archit (Harish Patel), and his moody older sister, Arundhathi (Sunita Mani).
The featured meet-the-parents encounter follows a generously paced first act, in which hospital doctor Naveen and professional photographer Jay almost meet-cute praying in front of the Ganesh altar at a Hindu temple. It's practically love at first sight, a mutual epiphany of interest and attraction that Soni and Groff make both cute and credible.
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