★★★☆
Elle is a whodunnit in which the main character doesn’t particularly care who done it.
The film opens with a horrific act of sexual violence, played for dark laughs and committed against video game developer and icy matriarch Michele (Isabelle Huppert in a typically brilliant turn). Rather than tell her dopey son or the police about the incident, she instead cleans up the damage and goes about her life as though nothing has happened, even while her mysterious attacker continues to bait and taunt her with text messages and open threats.
By its very nature then the plot is episodic, and the tale meanders into occasionally strange, occasionally mundane, occasionally horrific territory. The game for the audience is about deciphering what is relevant and what is mere distraction, filtering through subplots concerning Elle’s imprisoned serial killer father, domineering mother and handsome, conflicted neighbour.
Though Huppert is hypnotic, the real MVP is director Paul Verhoeven. The Dutch auteur has never received his dues as a filmmaker – his early American films, genre masterpieces like RoboCop and Total Recall, were unfairly sniffed at by mainstream critics – but he has a strikingly steady directorial style. He shoots melodrama with remove, creating an intoxicating interplay between medium and message, and encouraging audiences to swallow blatantly overripe madness they might never usually tolerate.
He also shows his deft hand at comedy. Elle is raucously funny at times, albeit in a way that will have a good proportion of its audience squirming in their seats. Running jokes about tentacle sex, circumcised penises and numerous spousal affairs are both shocking and amusing in equal measure, with an uncomfortable Christmas dinner proving a comedic high point.
That said, the film’s third act lacks oomph, and Verhoeven’s neat, methodical tying up of loose ends does begin to wear a bit thin. The film spends a good 40 minutes setting itself up for a conclusion that is surprisingly humdrum in nature, and though Verhoeven’s intention might be to deliberately subvert audience expectations – to let them down after stuffing them full of depravity for some 90 minutes – it doesn’t make for a particularly satisfactory viewing experience.
Nonetheless, the film is still full of dark pleasures, anchored by a supreme filmmaker at the height of his powers. It’s never pleasant or polite, but in its deranged exuberance Elle reaches heights of depravity not glimpsed in years.
Elleopens in cinemas on Thursday October 27.
