Latest news with #Jérémie
Geek Vibes Nation
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Geek Vibes Nation
'Misericordia' Review - A Casually Chaotic Queer Dark Comedy
Logline: A tantalizing thriller unfolds against a pastoral country setting in the latest from French auteur Alain Guiraudie (Stranger by the Lake). Jérémie (Félix Kysyl) returns to his hometown for the funeral of his beloved former boss, the village baker, and decides to stay for a few days with the man's widow, Martine (Catherine Frot). Before long a threatening former rival, a mysterious disappearance, and an omnipresent priest turn Jérémie's short visit into a gathering of the unexpected. Even the nicest people have a breaking point. No matter how quiet, kind, or seemingly meek you assume someone is, just know that if you push the wrong buttons or strike the right nerve, a delicate and non-threatening Caesar mushroom can actually be a death cap. The analogy will make sense when you watch the film. Not only do people have a limit to how much nonsense they can withstand, but you never know what someone is going through. You may not have to worry about being their thirteenth reason, but you could be their first victim. Be kind and stay alive. 'I think he's completely crazy.' No matter how careful you are or how sneaky you think you're being, the secret will always eventually be revealed. Written and directed by Alain Guiraudie, Misericordia is a casually chaotic queer dark comedy. With a dash of mystery, a heap of suspense, and more subtle humor than you can handle, this fatal French subterfuge is the hidden gem you want to find. Championing genuinely hilarious and awkward moments along with an affinity for mushroom foraging, the film is loaded with subtext that gets increasingly more outrageous as the story progresses. Veiled in suspicion and clouded by uncertainty, everyone in this idyllic town seems to be hiding something. There's violence, manipulation, sexual tension, and more than a few lies. And just the narrative gets juicy and truths are uncovered, the most surprising one exposes itself in more ways than one. Our lead, Jérémie, has the most to hide, but with how his life has been going, also the most to gain. Furthermore, as we witness the mystery unfolding from his perspective, you're plagued with one moral conundrum after another. The first instinct is to cut and run, but if Jérémie is for the messiness, then so are we. Come for the drama but stay for the absurdity. 'You'll learn to love me.' Wrapped and thriving in a Shakespearean essence, this eerily calm enigma is as much about identity as it is about deceit. In some ways, they're intertwined. While some aspects of the film can be interpreted as battling the rejection of your truth, other parts can be seen as an outward projection of internal conflict. With an initial atmosphere and aesthetic that feels cold and aloof, by the end, you'll feel its warm, firm embrace. You'll be left both shocked and entertained. The talented performances drive the experience as the sophisticated yet approachable writing of Guiraudie breathes exuberance into its dry wit. There are some beautiful shots with a set and costume design that feature dark and muted colors, perfectly matching the tone. If you're a fan of Alain Guiraudie's work, this is sure to delight. Its rewatchability is medium. From (L to R) FÉLIX KYSYL as Jérémie, SALOMÉ LOPES as Young Police Officer, SÉBASTIEN FAGLAIN as The Policeman, TATIANA SPIVAKOVA as Annie, CATHERINE FROT as Martine, DAVID AYALA as Walter Pace & Pop This film maintains a curious pace and tone for the entire runtime. Combining comedy, mystery, and thriller sensibilities, you never quite know what's coming next. What popped for me was the diabolically reserved nature of Jérémie as casual chaos ensues. From (L to R) Félix Kysyl as Jérémie and Jacques Develay as The Abbot in 'Misericordia' Characters & Chemistry Starring: Félix Kysyl, Catherine Frot, Jean-Baptiste Durand, Jacques Develay This ensemble cast is amazingly effective. Their subtle and layered performances are the lifeblood of the film. The dry delivery, the hungry stares, and the loud, panicked nonchalance are intriguing and hysterical. Between the unraveling psyche of Félix Kysyl's Jérémie and the ever-lingering priest played by Jacques Develay, their performances awaken the film's dangerously adventurous and addictive qualities. Let me not forget the deeply curious and somewhat suspicious performance of Catherine Frot. Misericordia is now streaming on the Criterion Channel. Stay safe and keep an eye on the sneaky priest. Rated: NR Runtime: 1h 43m Language: French Director: ALAIN GUIRAUDIE Writer: ALAIN GUIRAUDIE Artistic direction: LAURENT LUNETTA Cinematography: CLAIRE MATHON Production design: EMMANUELLE DUPLAY Costumes: KHADIJA ZEGGAÏ Hair and make-up: MICHEL VAUTIER Assistant Director: FRANÇOIS LABARTHE Sound: VASCO PEDROSO, JORDI RIBAS, JEANNE DELPLANCQ, BRANKO NESKO C.A.S Editing: JEAN-CHRISTOPHE HYM Original score: MARC VERDAGUER Producer: CHARLES GILLIBERT
Chicago Tribune
31-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
‘Misericordia' review: A funeral mourner sparks a tiny French village's erotic roundelay
Under wraps or busting out all over, inconvenient yearning is everywhere in the films of Alain Guiraudie. And like most of his characters, the French writer-director likes to keep his options open. No one genre suits him. Now at the Gene Siskel Film Center and the Landmark Century Centre Cinema, 'Misericordia' begins with a homecoming, proceeds to a funeral, expands to other corners of a not-so-sweet-little-village, throws in a murder and a cover-up, and concludes with elements of a deadpan sex comedy. It's easier to get at what 'Misericordia' isn't than what it is. And that makes it all the more interesting. The story begins with Jérémie, around age 30 with an uncertain future, falling back into his past. He returns to his former village of Saint-Martial for the funeral of the town baker. Jérémie worked as his apprentice a decade earlier. At the cozy hillside home of Martine, the baker's widow, Jérémie settles in for a stay of undetermined length. Early on, we see one framed photo in particular that catches Jérémie's eye: the baker in his prime, in a Speedo, at the beach. Casually, Martine refers to an intimate connection between her late husband and his apprentice. Connections like that maintain the film's low boil of erotic intrigue. Martine's hot-tempered son, Vincent, a childhood frenemy of Jérémie's, lives nearby. He does not relish the upcoming funeral's conspicuous outsider worming his way back into Saint-Martial. Vincent and Jérémie, it's implied, were more than just frenemies when they were teenagers. The bad blood between them eggs the men onto violence, tinged with physical need. Elsewhere, 'Misericordia' lets a comically glaring moment of side-eye do what words cannot. Most of it comes from the town abbot who, in frequent scenes set in the nearby woods, always seems to be drifting into view with his basket of precious mushrooms, whenever Jérémie is near. The rhythm and plotting of 'Misericordia' subverts expectations, not with story twists but with a tonal game of three-card monte. Guiraudie's best-known work, the 2013 movie 'Stranger by the Lake,' blended a more selective array of genre elements more smoothly; his new film, nuttier, more free-ranging, sets its queer male gaze inside genre boundaries drawn and re-drawn on the fly. More than once, this or that villager sneaks into Jérémie's bedroom at night, with something urgent to say. It's as if a murder story changed its mind and turned into a Joe Orton farce, taken at a peculiar half-speed. Some will buy it, some will not. But if life can pull switcheroos on us, movies can, too. The cast finesses the material without a misstep as the pent-up townsfolk orbit around cryptic, magnetic Jérémie, played by Félix Kysyl. Portraying Martine, whose jealousy-tinged affection for her houseguest becomes genuinely touching, Catherine Frot is the X-factor that makes 'Misericordia' a whole, rather than merely parts looking for a whole. As the village abbot never far from the woods, or from Martine's little dining room table, Jacques Develay manages the trick of utter simplicity in his motives and line readings. Nobody in this village can quite figure out why the alluring tabula rasa, Jérémie, has a hold on everybody. They only know desire works in mysterious ways. Misleadingly, this filmmaker's brand of suspense has often been labeled 'Hitchcockian,' because there are sometimes corpses to be hidden and alibis to be faked. In 'Misericordia,' on the other hand, there's a touch of Hitchcock's atypical lark 'The Trouble With Harry' in its straight-faced handling of strange developments. The trouble with Jérémie isn't that he's dead, even though his homecoming involves not one but two casualties. Is he bad? Misunderstood? A tender soul in hiding? A portrait in opaque omnisexuality, as adaptable as a zipper? Since 'Misericordia' has no interest in being only one kind of movie, it seems strange to expect a single motive or simple explanation from anyone in it. 'Misericordia' — 3.5 stars (out of 4) No MPA rating (nudity, some language and violence) How to watch: Now playing at the Landmark Century Centre Cinema, 2828 N. Clark St., and Gene Siskel Film Center, 164 N. State St. In French with English subtitles.
The Guardian
29-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Misericordia review – desire and dread in rural France
Plenty of film-makers explore the intersection between desire and violence; it's a recurring theme in the work of Rainer Werner Fassbinder, for example. But in the films of Stranger By the Lake director Alain Guiraudie, the overlap between the two is so great, it almost feels as if they are one and the same thing. In this slippery French-language thriller, boyish, floppy-fringed Jérémie (Félix Kysyl) returns from Toulouse to the village of Saint-Martial for a funeral. His arrival unlocks a gnawing hunger among the villagers: Martine (Catherine Frot), the widow of the dead man, invites Jérémie to stay in her spare room for as long as he chooses, on the understanding that his personal space is hers to invade. Martine's bullish son Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand) is unsettled by Jérémie's presence, but there's a menacing intimacy to their half-serious bouts of woodland wrestling. Then there's the local priest (Jacques Develay), with his candid, prying gaze, who always seems to be picking mushrooms at the same time as Jérémie, and whose interest in the younger man goes well beyond his spiritual wellbeing. And what of Jérémie himself? Is there a motive behind his prowling visits to sad-sack local farmer Walter (David Ayala) beyond just reconnecting with an old friend over glasses of pastis? A murder raises the stakes, but even before the mystery surrounding the death of a central character, Guiraudie seeds Misericordia with needling sexual tension and latent savagery through an ominous, skin-prickling score by Marc Verdaguer and Claire Mathon's snaking, shifty camerawork. It isn't entirely satisfying – there are too many unfulfilled subplots and murky motivations – but this intriguingly tricky drama has a perverse appeal. In UK and Irish cinemas
Yahoo
26-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Misericordia': A Priest's Raging Erection Is the Comedy Moment of the Year
Forget 'be gay, do crimes.' The latest moviegoing French import says 'be gay, do sins.' Coming from provocateur Alain Guiraudie, Misericordia is a must-see comedic thriller that skewers small town life and features a scene destined to give viewers equal shock and button-pushing delight. In Misericordia, Félix Kysyl stars as Jérémie, a gay man who returns to his childhood village for the funeral of the town baker, his former boss. Reunited with the baker's family–including the baker's son Vincent, who Jérémie shared sexual experiences with–Jérémie decides to lay low in the town longer than intended. Jérémie's mere presence stirs all kinds of tension among this small circle, with more than a few secret sexual urges in the mix. All this leads to the coverup of a violent crime where Jérémie's only confidant is the local priest. As previously noted by The Daily Beast Obsessed's Nick Schager, 'Misericordia proves a novel spin on a familiar formula, its strange psychosexual undercurrents lending it a decidedly Hitchcockian mania.' But also peppered throughout Misericordia's nuances is an audacious and hilariously casual willingness to shock. Suffice it to say: much as it draws on films like Rope and Psycho, this ain't your parents' Hitchcock homage! Misericordia's, um, biggest provocation comes late in the film and it demands discussion, so spoilers ahead… So, about that priest. Even though it seems everyone in his hometown is at least a little bit hot for Jérémie, no one is more so than the town priest. Played with comic morbidity by Jacques Develay, this lust culminates in a third act fully nude scene where Develay's visible and voluminous erection comes to Jérémie's defense. Misericordia serves us an onscreen gay priest b---r. It's a moment (and film, really) to make the likes of John Waters proud. Guiraudie is a director proven to be unafraid of taboo or provocation. His films regularly feature bracingly frank depictions of sex, graphic nudity, and darker themes undercut with devilish wit. The most familiar to American audiences is his cult erotic thriller Stranger by the Lake, which centers on a young man who frequents a countryside cruising spot and falls for a potential serial killer. That film earned a reputation for its unsimulated sex scenes and near constant nudity, but still resonates for how Guiraudie captures eroticism tinged with terror and compulsion. Now, it isn't just this explicit moment where Misericordia finds joy in pushing envelopes, especially regarding gay sexuality. One scene in particular will draw hoots from underwear enthusiasts and daddy chasers alike. Misericordia is one to see with a crowd, or maybe just your most misanthropic gay friend. Guiraudie's perspective on sex is playful and winking, even in the film's darkest passages. The forest that serves as Jérémie's cruising ground is also the priest's favored spot for mushroom hunting–now there's a new gay euphemism for you. The film's tagline–'some confessions come with a body count'–is itself a double entendre: with some sexual tension present between Jérémie and just about every character that comes in his orbit, exactly how many of them has he had sex with, or might he? Misericordia's sensibility is itself subversive. The kinkiness that runs through Misericordia all underscores its central plot of a gay man returning to his traditional hometown. To Guiraudie, those are deeply straight and straightlaced places where sexual secrecy and violent aggression hide in plain sight, ever ready to spring to life. Queer lust is inherently dangerous in that environment, but all that straight society seriousness can be very silly. Jérémie also does bad things (and Kysyl's terrific performance smartly keeps Jérémie morally inscrutable), but from Guiraudie's queer vantage point, the social norms of clear right and wrong become murky. The film floats its most subversive idea through Develay: indifference to punishment for a crime occurring in a world so full of suffering that it renders that one crime insignificant. How much violence has been happening in that very community and with much worse consequences? And Guiraudie's subverting of those norms becomes deeply fun, particularly when presenting Develay in his altogether. Onscreen erections have been seen before, even on Netflix where Gaspar Noe's Love spawned TikTok reaction videos and Blonde drew ire. And explicit sex continues to be a taboo filmmakers attempt to break. Guiraudie goes there but does so with intention. The onscreen erection isn't just a pearl-clutching sight gag, but it's confronting several taboos at once–gay sex, religious norms, what we are and aren't allowed to depict onscreen, and from what type of bodies, to name a few–and makes mockery of each one. It's a b---r, but Guiraudie makes it a highly contextualized b---r.
The Guardian
26-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Misericordia review – waking dream of a movie is one of the strangest films of the year
Writer-director Alain Guiraudie must surely now be said to match Quentin Dupieux for the weirdest sense of humour in French cinema. But is comedy exactly what is happening here? Because this has to be one of the strangest films of the year – or the most deadpan of deadpan in-jokes. At one point, I thought I saw the performer playing a police officer almost laugh, but perhaps every single actor here was on the verge of cracking up throughout the shoot. It could be that every time Guiraudie yelled 'Cut' everyone burst out laughing. You could also call Misericordia queer cinema, with the word 'queer' also working in its non-sexual sense. Guiraudie made his international breakthrough with his 2013 film Stranger By the Lake, but it's now clear that the seriousness and vehemence of that psychosexual drama are atypical of the director's real instincts, which are towards waywardness and playfulness and unreadable, inscrutable mischief. And here, as sometimes in the past, he looks as if he is making it up as he goes along. A young man called Jérémie (Félix Kysyl), comes to a small village to attend the funeral of his former employer, a baker, a man for whom he appears to have had intense feelings. The dead man's widow, Martine (Catherine Frot), remembers her affection for this personable, sympathetic young man and he eagerly accepts her invitation to stay with her for as long as he likes – to the intense irritation of her son Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand), who suspects that Jérémie's behaviour is inappropriate and that he has sexual designs on his mother. Jérémie's actual sexual designs are – bizarrely – on slovenly and unprepossessing neighbour Walter (David Ayala), who has a penchant for Rab C Nesbitt-type vests. Vincent's dislike for Jérémie escalates into an explosive confrontation, but Jérémie is protected by mysterious priest Philippe (Jacques Develay), who has his own emotional and sexual needs. Perhaps this film is just too self-consciously odd, but you feel that you are watching a dream which has been minutely transcribed and re-enacted; or perhaps all the performers are sleepwalking in the most vivid and lucid way. The film is also notable for showing semi-erect penises very candidly. Misericordia is in UK and Irish cinemas from 28 March.
