Is Barbarian
Invasions about a jolly, life-loving intellectual whose final
days are celebrated in the company of loyal, admiring comrades?
Or does it concern a pompous, irresponsible bunghole whose few
remaining acquaintances grudgingly tend to him during a life-sapping
terminal illness? Denys Arcand’s continuation of 1986’s
Decline of the American Empire revisits Frenchman Remy
(Remy Girard), a college history professor that viewers will either
love or hate. He’s an enthusiastic, carpe diem-practicing
force of nature with an eye for women and good books. But his
somewhat impulsive id has ruined his marriage and caused a rift
between Remy and his son. Barbarian Invasions examines
how this free-spirited man’s impending death effects the
motley crew of colleagues, mistresses, children, ex-wives, and
junkies gently guiding him into that good night.
The
film’s opening scene resembles a Game Boy screen during
some frantic, obstacle-jammed video race. A chaplain worker skitters
down the hallways of a Quebec hospital, dodging gurneys, IV tubes,
and nurses en route to Remy’s room. The whole journey through
this medical minefield is filmed in one unbroken shot (think of
the Goodfellas Copacabana scene set in an ER, and you
get the idea).
Such
first impressions are deceiving, however. Barbarian Invasions
is a movie of words and ideas, not action set pieces and fancy
camera moves. When Arcand’s lens finally rests on Remy’s
bespectacled, pear-shaped face, the French subtitles run fast
and furious across the screen. His ex-wife (Dorothee Berryman)
expresses bitter resentment over the libidinous man’s early
days spent “humping co-eds,” even as she supports
Remy through the sobering news of his illness.
The
unfaithful skirt-chaser has cancer, and his one-time wife summons
Remy’s son Sebastian (Stephane Rousseau) to the scene. A
millionaire investment broker with the bland good looks of David
Duchovny, Sebastian has long since cut ties with his elder. After
much begging on his mother’s part, the descendant reluctantly
visits his ailing dad, brandishing a cell phone and laptop computer.
The boy’s yuppie lifestyle is at odds with Remy, a self-proclaimed
“sensual socialist” who labels Sebastian a “puritanical
capitalist.”
“He’s
never read a book,” complains the snooty pop. “He
may not read,” counters Sebastian’s proud mother,
“but he makes more in a month than you do in a year.”
Even
on a physical level, Remy and Sebastian appear as polar opposites,
the older man’s doughy features contrasting wildly with
his son’s lean, wiry profile. And herein lies the question
at the heart of Barbarian Invasions. Can a father who
shares virtually nothing in common with his son find closure as
he closes in on death’s door? Can both elder and offspring
find some middle ground, and identify with one another in an emotionally
satisfying final truce?
A few
giggles are generated by Sebastian’s money-based values
system, as he buys off a hospital’s administrator and union
to move his father into a more respectable room. Later, he attempts
to curb Remy’s pain by scoring some illicit drugs with a
little help from the local police precinct. “I hoped you
could recommend a spot where I could find some high-quality heroin,”
he naively explains to the amused and disbelieving cops.
Eventually,
Remy is introduced to heroin, in an eerie scene involving the
junkie daughter of a past mistress (Marie-Josee Croze, in a dynamic
performance that captures the manic highs and rock-bottom lows
of smack abuse). “The first hit is always the best,”
insists the young addict, her world-weary face suddenly aglow
with enthusiasm as she shares the forbidden fruit. “It’s
the one you long for. They call it ‘riding the dragon.’”
Meanwhile,
we’re introduced to the educator’s clique of college
buddies, all of whom have mellowed with age. “The only powder
I sniff now,” says one reformed counterculture rebel, “is
‘Baby’s Own.’” In another clever scene,
after Remy has deteriorated and is taken to a lakeside cabin to
live out his precious final moments, his chums ponder the various
causes they once embraced. “Was there an ‘ism’
we didn’t worship?” asks pal Pierre (Pierre Curzi),
before the group recites a long laundry list that includes Maoism,
Freudianism, Socialism, Humanism, and Separatism.
The
laughter is compromised by Remy’s bitter take on world history.
“The history of mankind,” he laments, “is a
history of horrors.” Throughout Barbarian Invasions,
characters speak of civilization’s constant state of flux,
and the inevitable changes that transpire as unfamiliar forces
shape the course of humanity. Many are tragic, such as the 9/11
attacks (briefly glimpsed through television footage). But are
such changes always horrific, or must Remy come to acknowledge
that some societal shifts are for the better? Can he embrace Sebastian’s
uniquely different qualities, for instance, and not be afraid
of them?
Barbarian
Invasions is a moving film, but one that often seems to embrace
its complicated character with too much admiration. After all,
his students are so indifferent to Remy’s illness that Sebastian
must bribe them to visit. He’s a self-absorbed man, and
moviegoers might well perceive Remy as nothing more than a selfish
cad. In choosing the path of wine, women, and song, while shirking
the responsibilities of marriage and parenting, perhaps his children,
lovers, and students have reason to find fault.
But
Remy’s flaws are also what makes Arcand’s movie so
unique. He’s a far from perfect man trying to learn from
his mistakes, even as his mortality closes in. Perhaps Arcand
is trying to tell us that we might not have control over the changing
tides of history, but we can continue playing a part in the lives
of those we love, even as they morph and develop in ways not completely
understood. “Embrace the unknown,” offers a caregiver
as the film’s lead character slips away. Like an encounter
with Remy the man, Barbarian Invasions is an emotional,
infuriating journey that’s ultimately worth taking.
