QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TIFF ROMANIA

Raphaël (Raphaël Thiéry) does not conform to mainstream beauty conventions. The 60-year-old-male is overweight, with a saggy belly and other signs of ageing printed all over his anatomy. His face is rough and wrinkly, with protruding eyebrows and a missing right eye (which he covers with an eyepatch most of the time). This gentle Cyclops lives with his mother Lucienne (Mireille Pitot) in a tiny cottage just outside a pompous manor house with countless chambers and extensive corridors, complete with vast lands and manicured gardens. His life is as uneventful as one would expect. It all changes with the arrival of mansion heiress Garance (Emmanuelle Devos).

The woman is around the same age as Raphaël, yet her physique reveals a very kind and privileged upbringing. She boasts the skin, the hair and the gaze of someone with enough money to look after themselves without having to worry about mundane issues. She’s a conceptual artist whose work is inspired by her own existence. Somewhere between Tracey Amin and Marina Abramovic. One of her pieces consists of collecting her own tears. She is also a painter and a sculptor. So she decides to create a life-size terracotta version of Raphaël (this is no spoiler, as the French film title literally translates as “The Terracotta Man”. She wishes to capture every nook and cranny of body, and so she asks him to undress. Still a little suspicious of the rich woman’s intentions, Raphaël refuses to take off his boxers. Perhaps he wishes to retain his dignity, and does not want to become objectified.

Such refusal naturally titillates her desire, both as an artist and as a woman. She isn’t exploiting Raphaël for critical acclaim. The passive subject gradually morphs into an object of romantic and sexual desire, further complicating the relationship between the artist and the creation, between the master and the muse.

The topic of turning a person into an art piece, the slow and meditative pace, and the setting of the film are vaguely reminiscent of Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Celine Sciamma, 2019). Just replace the sapphic vibes with a conventionally ugly male, more akin to the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Another difference is that The Dreamer takes place in a the contemporary era (probably the late 20th century, judging by the telephone devices). The atmosphere, however, is classic and ancient. Had it not been for Garance’s more conceptual pieces, this could be a movie set in the 17th century. It isn’t just the settings that look old. Boasting a grainy texture, vivid colours and an unusual frame ratio, the cinematography suggests that this is a film shot 30 or 40 years ago. That’s presumably intentional, and aligned with the time of the actual story.

While mature and artistically accomplished, Anaïs Tellenne’s directorial debut fails on other fronts. The narrative is just too lethargic, and the ending is as predictable as the outcome as the last Russian elections. Much like the statues that Garanche gingerly shapes and caresses with her fingers, the story is just too silent and stiff. By the time the sparks of romance begin to fly, your body may have already released a significant amount of melatonin. By the time our one-eyed protagonist finally finds emotional deliverance, your two eyes may be already be gently closed.

The Dreamer shows in Competition at the 23rd edition of Tiff Romania.