Oliver Matheson’s review published on Letterboxd:
“Did you paint it”
“Yes. A long time ago”
Boy do I love movies, but I don’t love going to the theater. I don’t have any particularly strong memories of seeing a movie on the big screen as a kid (I do remember pretending I was a spy in the parking lot after Spy Kids though), and every time I get excited about a film and want to see it asap on the big screen someone in the theater does something that pisses me off (I’m convinced that seeing Midsommar in theaters is the reason I didn’t like it that much). That was no exception with Portrait of a Lady on Fire, a film I was worried I wouldn’t like but could at least enjoy the cinematography on a big screen. I had plenty of people whispering to each other (not as quietly as they think they were), and three different cell phones went off. Despite this, I wouldn’t have missed experiencing this film on the big screen for the world, to the point that I took my wife to see it again two days later. What a work of art.
I have so much to say about this one that I will probably start rambling after this, but before I do I want to try to compare this to There Will Be Blood, because TWBB is not one of my favorite movies, it’s not really my kind of movie at all, but its masterpiece status is undeniable, and Portrait is one of the few films since that I think will stand the test of time in the same way.
After hearing the hype for this for so long I went in thinking there was no way that it could live up to it, but all it took was that amazing first scene, and Noémie Merlant’s powerful acting, and I knew this would not disappoint. Her eyes told us everything we needed to know. I’m also normally not one for romance stories, which is why I loved the setup here, the less than straightforward plot made this so much more than the average love story.
Céline Sciamma has such a mastery over all of the cinematic elements here that it is astounding. The editing is terrific, a scene never goes a second longer than it should. The cinematography and costumes were gorgeous, and now I’m starting to wonder why every movie isn’t a period-drama filmed on Saint-Pierre-Quiberon. I also have to give props to Adèle Haenel for crafting such a unique and dynamic character.
Besides being a moving love story, probably the best I have ever seen, Portrait is a window into another time, and the difficulties that accompany that, even small ones. The fact that Héloïse could not read a new book unless someone visited with one, and had gone most of her life without listening to great music should make us realize just how fortunate we are to experience art like this. These are examples of small but striking observations the film makes, but more than anything this is a meditation on how the lives of women can be controlled, and the small moments in which they can break free. Unfortunately the abortion side-plot took the wind out of my sails for a bit, but I understand how it fits into the narrative of things that control women’s lives, and I commend Sciamma for recognizing the value of life that Sophie gives up with one of the more fascinating and thought-provoking shots I’ve ever seen, giving it the gravity it deserves.
I could ramble about this one forever, suffice to say this is an incredible piece of art that needs to be seen to be believed, maybe just for the song they sing around the fire alone. This film’s final moments were phenomenal, and when it cut to black I could feel the weight of what just transpired hit the audience like a ton of bricks. That experience was certainly worth a few cell phones going off.