Abuse of Weakness
is a film that has received much critical praise for the insight and
self-portrayal of French filmmaker Catherine Brelliat. Brelliat suffered a stroke in 2004, and while
recovering, she began work on her next film.
During that process, she met an infamous con artist named Cristophe
Rocancourt, and ended up loaning him nearly €700,000 while he supposedly wrote
a screenplay about his life that ultimately would never be produced. Rocancourt was later convicted of abus de fablaisse, which translates to
“abuse of weakness,” and is defined as the taking financial advantage of
another in a time of mental vulnerability.
This is the backstory that spawned this film’s making, and though
fictional, is largely autobiographical of Brelliat’s experiences with
Rocancourt. However, despite how
cathartic and empowering I’m sure making this film was for Brelliat, it is not
perfect, and while the elements of a great film are there, critical
storytelling missteps prevent the film from achieving such heights.
This is because the film almost entirely relies on its
audience knowing that obscure bit of trivia that I explained in the first
paragraph, as it completely ignores characterizing the main characters as
anything more than representations of their real-world counterparts. See, the film starts with Maude (Brelliat’s
stand-in) suffering her stroke, and then going forward with physical
therapy. We watch her struggle with
physical therapy and it quickly becomes established that her new disability is
going to require some assistance from friends, family, and hired workers. Enter Vilko (Rocancourt’s stand-in), whom
Brelliat invites into her life with the plan to use him as an actor in her next
film. As the film progresses, we see
Vilko gradually manipulate Maude into eventually signing away her entire life’s
savings to him, but we never see why Maude decides to go along with it.
I can think of any number of reasons why a person would
become the subject of financial abuse: loneliness, dependence, attraction. However, this film never firmly establishes
what Maude’s actual vulnerability is.
Sure, we see her struggle physically in the aftermath of her stroke, but
we never see any other evidence of loss in her mental faculties. To an outside observer, Maude is simply
making irrational decisions without any sort of explained reason. If the film had bothered to emphasize the
relatable reasons for Maude’s vulnerability, it would be easier to empathize
with her as a victim. Even an
inner-monologue narration would have been enough to sustain the film’s lack of
insight into its main character.
This is what I mean when I say that knowledge of the
director’s story is necessary when viewing this film; and yet, paradoxically,
if you already know that story, there’s no reason to watch the film, because
the film doesn’t provide any new insights that Brelliat’s Wikipedia article
couldn’t provide. I suppose the
performances by leads Isabelle Huppert and Kool Shen should be applauded for
their subtlety, but they were perhaps so subtle that the film’s point got lost
in the realism. This seems to me the
result of an artist being so closely intertwined with their work as to be blind to its
biggest flaws, and ultimately leaves the piece feeling unfinished due to that
oversight. Abuse of Weakness is probably one to skip.
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