The Child (L'enfant)
by Jeffrey Koh
Children, go, where I send you...
With each new film they make, starting from La Promesse (followed by Rosetta, The Son, and now, The Child), Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne has steadily created a contextual and ever expanding cinematic universe which serves as an unforced placebo mirroring our real one. In the process, the brothers have demonstrated an uncanny ability to articulate their unobtrusive takes on modern socio-politics, adeptly presenting tough ethical conundrums which challenge man. Without judgement, they unleash upon unsuspecting viewers, incisively drawn characters whose uncontrived behavioral and emotional manifestations eventually point towards their films' intended themes. It is through the Dardennes' intuitive understanding of the protagonists and the situations they face that eventually bring out their humanity. In sum, they never fail to deliver poignantly dramatic character studies of equal exquisite restraint and empathic power.
A Dardenne brothers' film promises no clear answers, but challenges its perceptive viewers to ruminate over what they have seen; at the end, each and every viewer would be free to draw their own conclusions. It is this real breath of freedom which leads some, like me, to conclude that though a Dardenne brothers picture may present strife and confusion, dread and heartaches, they are necessary fuel for our cumulative journey towards the redemptive denouement of each film. One thing is clear - the ending will always pack a cathartic dose of sobering epiphanies.
Their latest feature, The Child (L'enfant), is no different. Typical of a Dardenne brothers' film, we are plunged straight into its universe without the benefit of immediate clarity. We see a young woman, Sonia (Déborah François), cradling her newborn son as she quickly realises her boyfriend, Bruno (Jérémie Renier), who has been uncontactable since their baby's birth, has temporarily sublet their apartment to a couple of strangers. The woman, with baby in tow, soon finds the father, but he is in the midst of petty thieving and is dividing his loots with his young accomplices. Sonia does not seem to mind her boyfriend's prior absence and present nonchalance. She is just glad to have found her boyfriend and quickly forgives him, forgetting about her past inconveniences. Shortly after, the couple is holding each other with the baby in their blissful embrace.
Bruno and Sonia appear to live off his occasional loots and her unemployment benefits. Despite Sonia's gentle nudges, Bruno does not intend to find decent work as he does not believe in it. We soon see the couple having fun in the sun and indulging in some spontaneous shopping. They do not seem entirely worried about their questionable ability to look after the newborn child, the father more appearing less so than the mother. It is at this pivotal juncture that Bruno does something so startlingly unimaginable that the relationship between the couple starts to splinter. The rest of the movie will see Bruno attempting his best to simultaneously salvage the consequences caused by his misdeeds and regain Sonia's trust.
The Dardenne brothers may have sought to end The Child on a redemptive note, but its protagonist, Bruno, calls to question on whether such a resolution is ever going to be possible.
Given the irrevocable emotional claims he has at stake with his girlfriend and son, and compounded by his expected moral responsibilities as a father, boyfriend or even a decent human being, Bruno's actions will definitely confound and horrify even the most casual of observers. However, the Dardennes' do not make easy movies, for we too can see throughout that Bruno is not evil by design. The criteria from which he makes his decision are random. He seems incapable of discerning if his behavior is good or bad - Bruno only senses what is supposed to be right or wrong when others around him react strongly to his behaviour, and he in turn reacts accordingly. This in itself makes The Child one of the most frightening and saddening character studies committed to screen. It is frightening for we are being shown a specimen of a man who is capable of the most unimaginable evil without grasping its horrors, and the most astonishing goodness without understanding its virtues. It is saddening because he knows not what he does and so may never be able to learn and change for the better.
The effects of having someone like Bruno can be clearly seen throughout the movie, but the possible factors that had led to his character bear closer scrutiny. In one of the movie's later scenes, there is a subtle moment where Bruno visits his mother late at night to ask for her help. In an ordinary movie, this moment may have merely been a plot device to push the story forward, but in the hands of the Dardennes, it serves a veiled, deeper purpose. We are offered a glimpse into the relationship Bruno has with his mother - informal, distant and dampened by undesirable father figures. His mother may love him, but she seems more afraid of her current live-in boyfriend than in showing concern for her son's welfare. Though never explicitly mentioned, one can only assume the harsh environment Bruno might have lived under through his childhood years. If so, the unfortunately nurtured product of these conditions may hence be someone like Bruno - cowardly, restless, unintentionally callous, and unable to discern good from bad, right from wrong.
But all is not lost. Throughout, Bruno also exhibits desirable traits. He cannot feel for himself but he can feel for others, and his guilt is often a reciprocal product of this. He also appears to be capable of love toward his girlfriend and genuine compassion for others, even though he may not completely understand these notions. He does not resort to unnecessary violence when dealing with people (from his girlfriend, his son to his young accomplices) and seems incapable of lying to his loved ones. Case in point, when confronted, he confesses his deeds to his girlfriend without any attempt to fabricate lies. There is hence something pure and innocent about Bruno. He is like an unformed child, without guile or agenda, making one wonder at the Dardennes' intent in naming this film.
It is more of a curse than a blessing to be someone like Bruno, for society will always protect a child, but not a man who acts like one. Children are embraced and deemed adorable if they possess milder shades of Bruno's traits, for they are still within the control of adult supervision. But if these traits are transplanted onto a man of Bruno's age, it becomes a completely different ball game. Without a leash, Bruno is a hazard to himself as well as those around him.
As a viewer, I am prone to pity or condemn someone like Bruno instinctively. However, I also realise how easily I forget my comparatively more blessed upbringing and affluence. Unconsciously, I might well be looking upon someone like Bruno with utter disgust, condescending sympathy or perhaps even a plain superior need to point out his flaws. This whole commentary may even be more presumptuous than I'd care to admit, in fact. However, this enlightening film sets the record straight. We should not sympathise, condemn or condescend; instead, we should just observe, empathise and most importantly, understand one question - who are we to judge someone/something we barely comprehend? All we can do, perhaps, is to reflect on our own experiences in relation to the movie, and hopefully draw some valuable life lessons from it.
Few modern films are as uniquely conceived as those from the Dardenne brothers, for they understand the relentless dichotomy governing humanity and society - that our everyday existence is plagued by tug-of-wars between life/death, good/evil, order/chaos, conviction/faithlessness etc. They also possess the will to steer lost souls towards the light of one powerful notion - the constant of change, believing in an evolving humanity capable of defeating our fears, so that our hopes will rise from the ashes of our enbattled beings. This light guides us. It keeps us going.
Returning to the question of whether The Child ended redemptively, I will consider a leap of faith. Given his reactionary behaviours and wavering instincts, what Bruno needs might simply be a positive role model (or emotional anchor) to guide him onto brighter paths. It is too late for his parents to do him any good, but a lover like Sonia may be his best bet towards redeeming himself.
The Dardenne brothers compassionately delve in the belief of our will and ability to constantly better ourselves. Through their films, I have learnt many lessons which I would normally have taken a lifetime to accrue. In those precious hours of watching their films - from La Promesse through The Child (and beyond) - I find myself gaining insights, from the value of repentance to the redemptive powers of forgiveness and everything else in between. These sublime wisdoms will cushion my walk as I trudge on in this daunting existence. And I think to myself, if I succeed in becoming a better person, I will forever be indebted to generous filmmakers like the Dardenne brothers and their movies. If I fail, I can always paraphrase the quote-worthy Roger Ebert, for I know that shall be the degree to which I have room to grow.
Labels: belgian cinema, dardenne brothers

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