QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM VENICE
T[./dropcap]he action takes place in present day Lorraine, a historical region of Northeastern France. Pierre (Vincent Lindon) has devoted his entire life to his job as a metal worker, and also to raising his two sons. Their mother passed away years earlier in circumstances never revealed. He is very proud of his working-class roots, and believes that tolerance and diversity are at the heart of French society. Twenty-year-old, bookish and sensible Louis (Stefan Crepon) is his prodigy: he has been invited for an interview to study politics at Sorbonne, leaving daddy proud and elated. On the other hand, 22-year-old, quiet and explosive Fus (Benjamin Voisin) is unemployed. His behaviour has become increasingly erratic and unpredictable. He scoffs at his father’s lifestyle choices, and makes ironic and degrading comments about his profession.
Fus occasionally allows far-right rhetoric to slip out of his mouth. He talks about “us” versus “them”, and boasts his “Lorrain” roots. Pierre suspects that Fus isn’t in good company. A quick search on his social media reveals a friend connection with “Dodolf” and inflammatory, xenophobic content: “let’s send them back to Africa”. Violent videos show immigrants beaten up by skin heads. Pierre demands that Fus stops seeing these people, lest they contaminate the susceptible young man with their toxic values. He threatens to kick him out. They try to reconnect through football, perhaps their only remaining passion in common. But maybe it’s already too late.
Adapted from the 2020 novel Ce qu’il Faut de Nuit by Laurent Petitmangin, The Quiet Son has all the trademarks of social realism. The class struggle is at the heart of the story. The Quiet Son portrays the psychological tribulations of a factory work satisfied with his work arrangements, yet fighting to rescue one of his children from the threat of radicalisation. Pierre fears that Fus could forsake his left wing proclivities in favour of a dangerous ideology. There is very little to no artificial lighting and no make-up, and the acting is very spontaneous. Lindon, Crepon and Voisin craft a real sense of intimacy, and the family conflicts are entirely palpable. Lindon’s vaguely droopy eyes and firm gaze communicate very strong and honest sentiments. Viewers are asked to wear the shoes of a loving and deeply afflicted father.
Tragedy strikes after the face-off between fascists and anti-fascists intensifies. The horrific developments bring the family closer together, at least temporarily. But Fus still has a surprise in store. The final denouement turns their lives upside down, reminding viewers that hate politics can leave very deep scars. Yet there’s some sort of hope, as the football association classic song I’ll Never Walk Alone reminds viewers as the credits roll.
The Dardenne Brothers’s The Young Ahmed (2019), Andre Techine’s Farewell to the Night (2019) and Jawad Ralib’s Amal (2023) have recently dealt with the radicalisation of Islam amongst young people in France and Belgium (the two countries behind The Quiet Son), yet this is the first time I recall seeing a film about the dangers of far-right extremism amongst the same demographic coming from these two countries. A necessary and also a finely crafted movie.
The Quiet Son just premiered in the 81st Venice International Film Festival.
