Hunting & Gathering
Initially we meet the three main characters of Hunting & Gathering in isolation, a reflection of their emotional states which are free from the encumbrances that come with human connections. Philibert (Laurent Stocker) is an eccentric postcard salesman with a speech-impediment that stifles his social and vocational ambition. Camille (Audrey Tautou) is a night-time office cleaner (or “surface engineer” as she so deftly puts it) suffering from a destructive relationship with her shrewish mother. And Franck (Guillaume Canet) is a brooding cook with an obligation is to his grandmother, Paulette (Francoise Bertin), who is becoming increasingly dependent. These three characters are lost to the world, each afraid to confront their truest fears and most secret desires.
A chance meeting, one that is speckled with the kindness that reflects the film’s core message, kicks off the transformation of the main characters. Philibert returns to his apartment building a mite tipsy after celebrating his birthday (we might assume, alone) and cannot remember the access code. Camille, a fellow tenant, is kind enough to help him with a gesture that belies the common cynical second-guessing of strangers and their intentions. Later she meets Philibert in a supermarket, and intrigued by his positive and blithe demeanour, casually invites him to dinner in her apartment (which is a cold attic with no furniture). Together the two enjoy an impromptu picnic on the attic floor sparking the formation of a friendship.
Soon after, Camille falls desperately ill with the flu. Philibert rescues Camille from her chilly attic and puts her up in the ornate apartment he shares with Franck. Franck can only see the cynical angle to Philibert’s behaviour, repeatedly asking his roommate if he is sleeping with the patient. It is a curious attitude from Franck given his selfless devotion to caring for his aged grandmother. Later we understand that this is Franck’s way, a grumpy exterior hiding a heart of gold.
When Camille’s health returns Philbert invites her to live permanently in his apartment. The dramatic tension builds as the fragile Camille and the obnoxious Franck begin to get on each other’s nerves. He cannot stand her presence, nor understand why Philibert is letting her stay if he is not going to pursue her romantically. She cannot abide Franck’s flagrant womanising and exploitation of Philbert’s charity – the latter is sharing his apartment with Franck without seeking any financial compensation. Gradually the two characters wear on each other until one day, so fed-up, Camille throws Franck’s stereo out the window in a demonstration of defiance. Afterwards, racked with guilt, Camille buys Franck a new stereo, mitigating a change in the nature of their relationship. It is at this point that the film seems to be challenging its own credibility. Almost immediately Camille and Franck strike up a romantic relationship, yet it is not adequately clear from where the spark developed. While both characters have exposed a generous and nurturing side (Camille is impressed by Franck’s devotion to his grandmother) and revealed their passions (Franck enjoys the pencil sketches Camille does in her spare time) there is little to support their growing romantic attraction.
Despite the abridged courtship, Camille and Franck’s relationship is the heart of the film and it is the story’s strongest aspect. As they come together and begin to develop their romance Camille is wary of getting too close and implies that she is only after “physical comfort”. Franck obviously wants more, and he is taken aback by Camille’s desire to keep emotional warmth at arm’s distance. Herein lies the drama of the film as the two characters gradually realise that their different needs will draw them apart. Claude Berri’s subtle direction here is the film’s major asset as he doesn’t have the character’s spell out their desires, but gradually reveals them through gesture and look. Much like the friction in everyday relationships what is unsaid is most important, and also quite obvious to the parties involved. But because of their mutual fears, neither person seems willing to verbalise their concerns.
This attention to detail is wonderfully realised by Hunting & Gathering’s two leads. Yet, the power of the relationship between Camille and Franck also serves to highlight the film’s ultimate failure to bring this kind of drama to the rest of the story. As the focus turns to Franck and Camille, the minor characters become abbreviated. Philibert successfully treats his stutter, takes to the stage and proposes to his just-met girlfriend in a manner of moments detailed in a series of clipped scenes. And when Franck’s somewhat tiresome grandmother is moved from a caring facility back to her home under the care of Camille the decision to do so is arrived at rather abruptly. This is a curious development given how much attention was given to Franck’s pained consternation regarding the initial decision to move his grandmother to the nursing home.
There are two film’s going on here, and neither meshes comfortably with the other. The dramatic relationship between Camille and Franck, which is beautifully rendered, is built on the knowing observation that love is characterised by fear as much as joy. Yet, the rest of the film plays like a light-hearted fable; a morality tale that teaches the audience that kindness and companionship is the key to personal happiness. The French title of the film is Ensemble, c'est tout, translating to “togetherness, is all”. And while this is certainly a noble sentiment, it fails to account for the complexities of real life. The film is committed to sweet ideas about the joys and fears of love and companionship through the connections of myriad characters. But there is really only one relationship in the story, that between Camille and Franck, and it is the only one that matters.
A chance meeting, one that is speckled with the kindness that reflects the film’s core message, kicks off the transformation of the main characters. Philibert returns to his apartment building a mite tipsy after celebrating his birthday (we might assume, alone) and cannot remember the access code. Camille, a fellow tenant, is kind enough to help him with a gesture that belies the common cynical second-guessing of strangers and their intentions. Later she meets Philibert in a supermarket, and intrigued by his positive and blithe demeanour, casually invites him to dinner in her apartment (which is a cold attic with no furniture). Together the two enjoy an impromptu picnic on the attic floor sparking the formation of a friendship.
Soon after, Camille falls desperately ill with the flu. Philibert rescues Camille from her chilly attic and puts her up in the ornate apartment he shares with Franck. Franck can only see the cynical angle to Philibert’s behaviour, repeatedly asking his roommate if he is sleeping with the patient. It is a curious attitude from Franck given his selfless devotion to caring for his aged grandmother. Later we understand that this is Franck’s way, a grumpy exterior hiding a heart of gold.
When Camille’s health returns Philbert invites her to live permanently in his apartment. The dramatic tension builds as the fragile Camille and the obnoxious Franck begin to get on each other’s nerves. He cannot stand her presence, nor understand why Philibert is letting her stay if he is not going to pursue her romantically. She cannot abide Franck’s flagrant womanising and exploitation of Philbert’s charity – the latter is sharing his apartment with Franck without seeking any financial compensation. Gradually the two characters wear on each other until one day, so fed-up, Camille throws Franck’s stereo out the window in a demonstration of defiance. Afterwards, racked with guilt, Camille buys Franck a new stereo, mitigating a change in the nature of their relationship. It is at this point that the film seems to be challenging its own credibility. Almost immediately Camille and Franck strike up a romantic relationship, yet it is not adequately clear from where the spark developed. While both characters have exposed a generous and nurturing side (Camille is impressed by Franck’s devotion to his grandmother) and revealed their passions (Franck enjoys the pencil sketches Camille does in her spare time) there is little to support their growing romantic attraction.
Despite the abridged courtship, Camille and Franck’s relationship is the heart of the film and it is the story’s strongest aspect. As they come together and begin to develop their romance Camille is wary of getting too close and implies that she is only after “physical comfort”. Franck obviously wants more, and he is taken aback by Camille’s desire to keep emotional warmth at arm’s distance. Herein lies the drama of the film as the two characters gradually realise that their different needs will draw them apart. Claude Berri’s subtle direction here is the film’s major asset as he doesn’t have the character’s spell out their desires, but gradually reveals them through gesture and look. Much like the friction in everyday relationships what is unsaid is most important, and also quite obvious to the parties involved. But because of their mutual fears, neither person seems willing to verbalise their concerns.
This attention to detail is wonderfully realised by Hunting & Gathering’s two leads. Yet, the power of the relationship between Camille and Franck also serves to highlight the film’s ultimate failure to bring this kind of drama to the rest of the story. As the focus turns to Franck and Camille, the minor characters become abbreviated. Philibert successfully treats his stutter, takes to the stage and proposes to his just-met girlfriend in a manner of moments detailed in a series of clipped scenes. And when Franck’s somewhat tiresome grandmother is moved from a caring facility back to her home under the care of Camille the decision to do so is arrived at rather abruptly. This is a curious development given how much attention was given to Franck’s pained consternation regarding the initial decision to move his grandmother to the nursing home.
There are two film’s going on here, and neither meshes comfortably with the other. The dramatic relationship between Camille and Franck, which is beautifully rendered, is built on the knowing observation that love is characterised by fear as much as joy. Yet, the rest of the film plays like a light-hearted fable; a morality tale that teaches the audience that kindness and companionship is the key to personal happiness. The French title of the film is Ensemble, c'est tout, translating to “togetherness, is all”. And while this is certainly a noble sentiment, it fails to account for the complexities of real life. The film is committed to sweet ideas about the joys and fears of love and companionship through the connections of myriad characters. But there is really only one relationship in the story, that between Camille and Franck, and it is the only one that matters.
Audrey Tautou - Sweet as cake
