Manflesh of the Month: Denis Villeneuve

Look at this beautiful nerd

The implacable inevitability of inducting certain filmmakers into my pantheon is legend. It was only a matter of time before I aimed my patented fangirling energies at the real-life Dune messiah: Denis Villeneuve. His pure adorability has infused my mind like mélange, and I see him with rose-colored glasses. Or spice blue-colored eyes, in this case. 

 

As the opening line in Dune goes: “A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.” One must be vetted and re-vetted before I can squee without restriction. For Denis, it commenced with my seeing the acclaimed Arrival (2016) like any sci-fi movie fan did at the time, and my initial reaction was one of tacit approval for the appearance of a comparatively rare adult hard-sci-fi film. Until then, Christopher Nolan had been pulling his weight in that area, and though I respect him as a passionate filmmaker who uses old-fashioned techniques to make quality shit I was never going to strap in to that particular fanboy-infested bandwagon. Chris at least gets Brownie points for being a Ken Branagh fanboy.

 

Arrival, to be fair, earned the Nolan comparisons because of all the mindfuckery, but there was something else, a je ne sais quoi, which, in retrospect, is a known-known: the intimacy of purely cinematic, quiet moments. I’m a huge sucker for that in film, and I usually get my fix from foreign fare, and the last two decades of general Hollywood turnout has felt devoid of such artistic choices, so Arrival really stuck out. 

Denis emphasizes his early start in state-funded documentary filmmaking, which gave him the taste for tactility and realism which are the cornerstones of his aesthetic. For a spell, he travelled the world to make short films with carte blanche, as he attempted to find his voice. At 23, he worked on a documentary about musk oxen in the tundra territories of Ontario. His job was to carry equipment and make soup, and he recalls it was like walking on another planet. Who doesn’t want to make soup on another planet?

Thankfully, the movie-going world noticed the singular genius and potential of Arrival and a whole passel of awards and nominations were lobbed at it. Luckily for us, Denis soon found the opportunity to quietly express his dream of adapting Dune for the screen. That occurred in the microwave background, at some fateful dinner outing with Chris Nolan and a whole bunch of Hollywood bigwigs, but I must have sensed it simmering because it was in September of 2016 that I had a film feels dump on my previous blog regarding my book love and my personal history of living with David Lynch’s Dune (1984) all my life.

 

A few months later, miracle of miracles, the interwebs began to bubble with rumors about Denis actually helming a Dune adaptation. Then came Bladerunner 2049 (2017), which was brilliant in every way, and instantly fomented my excitement and hope that the Dune rumors were true after all, because I knew in my gut that if anyone could do it, it would be Denis. I watched a few more of his earlier films, to get a better feel for his auteur signatures--Polytechnique (2009), Un 32 août sur terre (1998), Next Floor (2008). Upon viewing those, I was like, “Denis, my dude, are you doing OK?” But mostly, I was like “Yes, this is our man.”

On the set of Incendies, the first time he felt “home” as a director

Side note: Denis wasn’t doing OK for a little while there. He made a few lukewarmly received fin-de-siecle films and he gave up filmmaking for nine years to basically be a stay-at-home dad. Somewhere in there, his first marriage fell apart as well, but he says he has a good relationship with his ex wife now, and he calls his three children the “tripod” on which he holds up his film career, because to be a good father (or a good director), you have to be present, and he works to keep his family fed. He didn’t want to make another film until it had something meaningful in it. 

In 2019, Schrodinger’s Box was opened, and the cat was very much NOT dead. A flurry of Dune casting announcements flew out, confirming that this was, in fact, real life. Not too long after that, the pandemic hit and I felt I had to survive if only for the sole purpose of seeing this fucking movie. In September of 2020, there was a whole Brady Bunch-style exclusive Zoom interview Stephen Colbert had with Denis and the principal cast that I watched live during my lunch break at work and it was hard not to dance around the room with unhinged joy. But then the October 2020 release was delayed an entire year, and I literally crumpled onto the carpet of my house and cried. 2020 was the worst.

Denis said that during the pandemic he just dove into the Criterion Channel and I am like HARD SAME, CORRECT ANSWER, MARRY ME.

 

Ever since reading Dune and its sequels when I was 17 years old, I told myself that if this thing was ever going to be done better, it would have to be taken up by someone with Peter Jackson levels of obsession with the source material. Someone who has been steeped in fond visions of Frank Herbert’s world since they were a kid, and has the talent and passion and fortitude for trilogy filmmaking. I feel supremely fortunate to have been alive in the era of history that finally produced this mythical creature who did what every other filmmaker thought impossible.

There are as many ways to watch (and make) a film as there are people, but there are certain categories of perspective that everyone gravitates to more than others, e.g. analysis of narrative, attention to sound and music, mise-en-scene, focus on performances, appreciation of editing and film craft, etc. One can switch from one to the other, adjusting each “lens” like an optometrist’s phoropter. One of the great joys of being a diligent cinephile is discovering filmmakers who appeal to your aesthetic sensibilities in one way or another (or many at once).

 

There are the exceptional few filmmakers who are intriguing on every level most important to you as a viewer. Cinema—like all art—is a culmination of preparation, experience, and instinct that results in a moment that transcends its medium and communicates some purpose to our human existence. It is fleeting and unpredictable, like cosmic particles filtering down through our atmosphere, but conditions can be created so that they have a better chance of being captured on film. Film itself is the filter that reveals wavelengths of reality we otherwise wouldn’t detect.

 

With DP Roger Deakins on the set of Prisoners… a real dream team

Denis has deep respect and enthusiasm for crafting true cinema. It is obvious in every interview, in every frame of his work, and he greatly values and credits the collaborative efforts of the entire crew of artists behind this extraordinary art form. He once compared cinema to a priest holding up the host, which is ultimately just a piece of bread, but given the right reverence, it is elevated to the body of Christ. Film transubstantiates into something holy.

 

One of the earliest examples of cinema ever recorded is Louis Lumiere’s Repas de bebe (1895). It is essentially a “home movie” of a mother and father feeding their child. It’s notably filmed outdoors on a patio or terrace, and some observers at the time were most impressed by the leaves and trees fluttering and swaying with the wind in the background, portraying a realism that was astounding to people accustomed to still photography. Pure cinema has the power of transforming the quotidian into something ecstatic. 

 

There are moments in Denis’ first Oscar-nominated film Incendies (2010) that remind me of Claire Denis’ exquisite and provoking Beau Travail (1999). Both directors will hold shots in near stillness long enough that the shot changes its meaning over time, like a Polaroid gradually developing before your eyes. It becomes arresting and intimate and unforgettable in the process. It takes more confidence not to cut away—a trust in one’s own instinct for a scene to reveal itself instead of insisting on complete control in every scene. For example, Denis prefers natural lighting as often as possible—a notoriously fickle element that has the potential to add a tangibility that is near impossible with a hermetically sealed soundstage draped in green.

On the set of Blade Runner 2049

 

Denis once said in 2017: “If Dune collapsed, I have no idea what I am going to do.” But the prophecy of an off-worlder (French Canadian) arriving on Frank Herbert’s turf (America) and learning the art and craft of big-budget filmmaking to convince the natives (Hollywood execs) that he will deliver us unto the age of true Dune sci-fi cinematic supremacy has been fulfilled. Princess Irulan dreams of chronicling something so significant.

When Dune Part One finally, mercifully premiered in 2021, I went to the theatre and wept from pure gratitude, and when the also delayed Dune Part Two premiered last month, I did the same. It is one of my fondest pleasures to use a venerated director’s work as a catalyst for me to pontificate on cinema like I just did. Denis makes my heart sing. 

But it was upon watching his latest interview with Colbert that ultimately forced me to see him for more than just his massive talent.

Mon cher rêveur

Just look at that precious face. So soft and kind and oval. Listen to the delicious timbre of his Quebecois-inflected voice. Merde. His eyes like polished tiger eye stones. SO CUTE. As my long-distance partner in squee would say: wring out your panties, Caity. I know she’s mostly amused by how out of the entire red carpet planetary alignment of sexy Dune folks to choose from, I ended up picking out the giant nerd behind the camera. Mmmm… I wanna make out with him in the Criterion closet… after helping him fill up his gift bag with all the discs our hearts desire.

Oscar is me

*le sigh*

 

So I spent Spring Break catching up on more of Denis’ previous work: Sicario (2015), Enemy (2013), Incendies (2010), and Prisoners (2013). Still recovering from the intense psychological gut punch from watching Incendies, I ended up spacing out Prisoners over two sessions. Boy oh boy, am I glad I made that call, because this marathon only served to redouble my original question about Denis’ psychological state. But holy shit that’s still definitely my boy. 

Also, I wonder if I’ve been so emotionally devastated by these viewing choices the last few weeks that I’ve developed some form of Stockholm syndrome.

 

Anyway, at least Denis’ artistic melancholy was put to good use. As Ingmar Bergman said in his 1990 memoir Images: “I always have had the ability to attach my demons to my chariot.” I’m grateful Denis seems to have heeded this advice (Bergman is one of his favorites after all), but it’s nice to finally see he can also attach his inner nerd kid to his chariot as well. And what a dorky one he was. 

I very much look forward to better knowing Denis’ soul through even more stimulating projects going forward. The latest reports are that he’s working on Dune Messiah (obviously), a Cleopatra retelling, and my personal favorite, an adaptation of Arthur C. Clarke’s Rendezvous with Rama, which is one of the most thrilling hard sci-fi novels I’ve ever encountered. It has three sequels and they are even more brain-bending than the first one, so, uhh, strap in (or on), folks! Denis is dealing us the finest quality cinema heroin for the foreseeable future.

You need hugs, Denis. And so do I.

Look how perfectly happy he is :)

Dorks, all