Time Regained stands still

>> Raoul Ruiz does Proust on his deathbed

by JOANNE LATIMER

Any film about Marcel Proust would have to tinker with the conventions of narrative cinema. It couldn't be Quills. It couldn't be Cobb. It could only be Raoul Ruiz's surreal biopic called Time Regained. Ruiz's film is steadfast in its adherence to all things Proustian, which is admirable. But is it bearable?

Time Regained is full of artful play between characters from Proust's life, fiction and fantasy. It helps tremendously to know Proust's books and characters going in. I didn't. After a crash course on Proust and a second screening, the film felt a bit less like Time Misplaced.

The "action" starts on Proust's deathbed. He's looking at old photos, identifying people for us. The juicy roles are played by Catherine Deneuve (who gives the project a regal stamp of approval by playing Odette de Crecy), her daughter Chiara Mastroianni, sexpot Emmanuelle Béart, Vincent Perez, the astonishing John Malkovich and Marcello Mazzarella as Marcel, the Narrator. It's a stellar cast. Too bad they don't interact very much. Ruiz's directorial style can be described as introspective, preferring to use his actors as set pieces, gazing dandies and strolling socialites who do little more than make introductions at salons.

Marcel's life jumps from his childhood, when he fell for the ravishing Gilberte (Béart), to his young adulthood with Albertine (Mastroianni). The other characters in the film, culled from his books and/or life, remain the same age throughout. Not a lot happens, except for strolls through gardens and catty chitchat between Parisian socialites who prefer not to notice World War I raging outside. Everything of interest--the war, the sex, and moments of true revelation--occurs off camera. It's oddly intriguing, but equally frustrating.

There's a kind of horizontal movement to the movie, followed by scenes so full of dread that you expect a murder tribute to Hitchcock. Nothing happens, and it's back to a cocktail party. There is no homicide, but there is a fabulous scene in an all-male bordello. One French client asks for a Canadian airman because he "prefers the [Québécois] accent." Ruiz jumps to a shot of Malkovich being whipped upstairs until the bed sheets are stained red with his blood. (Red is a big colour for Ruiz. It's in every salon and every hat pin.) Malkovich casually asks the bordello's manager for someone more cruel next time.

Ruiz is a master at reproducing the ennui of wealthy dandies. Unfortunately it translates into ennui for the audience. How much hand kissing and bowing can we take? How many piano recitals and chamber performances? Proust's inner turmoil about his writing only comes through via the voiceover, without which we'd be lost. Proust's voice helps connect us with the various actors who play him at different ages, thankfully. Mazarella, playing the adult Proust, strikes the perfect pose of detachment and amusement. He holds it for 156 minutes and we have to see it for 156 minutes. Time misplaced, indeed.

Time Regained opens Friday, June 22 at Cinéma du Parc