«Ceux qui travaillent» (Those who work), when quality Swiss cinema is overdue

Cinema Wednesdays - Loris S. Musumeci

«Whose side do you want to be on? Those who work or those who don't?»

Franck is a beast at work. He never gives up. Day and night, his eyes are riveted to his phone and computer. His office is his second home, or rather his first, because he spends so much time there. Feelings don't exist for him. Money, business and profit are the only driving forces in his life. From Geneva, he manages the movement of merchant ships around the world. Every little mistake can cost the company hundreds of thousands of francs. One day, a ship's captain informs him that an illegal Liberian has infiltrated the vessel. There was no turning back; no way of getting him back to Europe. «Get rid of him! It didn't take long for the story to reach his superiors. And they were fired.

On the family side, the father of five maintains a relationship with his family that is more military than familial. He's absent, for the most part, and content to make up for his absence with easy pocket money and a life of luxury. This man, who sees everything crumbling in front of him, finds himself faced with emptiness. Professional emptiness, family emptiness, emptiness itself. What can he do? Where should he go? How can he find the happiness he seems never to have been interested in? Franck's cold, austere routine is turning into hell, and he's going to have to find a way out.

A social film

The subject is well-known; the subject is social. Stress in the workplace, the absent father and the less-than-catholic methods of big business are increasingly addressed in literature and film. And yet, Antoine Russbach was not wrong to seize upon it to direct Those who work. Each story in this genre has its own protagonists and can reach a different audience. In the case of this Swiss film, in particular, it's the liberal, materialistic Swiss way of life that is called into question. And rightly so.

But the film doesn't stop at its message. It pays particular attention to photography, exploiting three main processes that flesh out the image. The first consists in repeatedly filming the main protagonist from behind. On the phone, he wanders around his house, with the viewer following at a bit of a loss. It's as if the character doesn't really know where he's going, and the audience is the first to witness this. In the same vein, the sequences in Antoine's car are vertigo-inducing, as the camera is positioned behind the driver and drowns in the twists and turns of affluent neighborhood lanes. Deceptively happy and peaceful, with oppressive shrubs and cedars.

Third, the frozen scenes of family life. The camera is fixed and films, in silence, the immobility in which the patriarch Franck holds his wife and children. The few movements are slow and the atmosphere is heavy. Nevertheless, the artistic strings are too visible, especially at this point. It's easy to imagine, perhaps mistakenly, that Antoine Russbach instructs his actors to take on a theatrical allure, suggesting that time has stood still.

Swiss cinema and its mediocrity

What's more, despite the film's good intentions, the end result is disappointing. The silences and freeze-frames go too far, making the film too much of a spectacle. long and boring. The script, which is partly intended as a denunciation of capitalism, veers into maudlin caricature several times, especially when the captain of the ship Franck had ordered to liquidate the stowaway says, on the verge of forced tears, with tremolos in his voice: «God bless capitalism.»

But worst of all is the acting. It's heartbreaking to think about, because Those who work would have had everything to succeed as a Swiss film. And yet, this dimension takes on such importance that it simply cannot be omitted. Under the authority of an over-written script, the actors, especially during the job interviews, recite their lines in a ridiculous fashion. Sorry, but to be lenient on this point would be tantamount to lying. At the time of dismissal, it's the same old story, with a line manager who talks like a teenager carefully reciting poetry in high school. The employment advisor makes the same blunders. The children and Franck's wife - with the exception of the youngest daughter, who plays well - are amateurish. Only Olivier Gourmet, playing Franck, doesn't do too badly, even if he's not very good.

However, I can vouch for the fact that neither the director nor the actors are devoid of talent. Certainly, they could have done much better. If only Swiss art were not content with its mediocrity! Perhaps I'm being too harsh in my judgement, but all too often we get the impression that as soon as the Swiss achieve a more or less acceptable result in the arts - and particularly in fiction films, documentary films are doing rather well - they let the matter drop, telling themselves that at Swiss level, there's no point in thinking bigger, thinking further. And why is that? It's such a shame! Is it a problem of financial means, bad taste or negligence? Not being in a position to answer this question, I can only encourage Swiss filmmakers and actors to really believe in themselves, to see their work through to the end, even to the end of their dreams, because they are capable of it and Swiss fiction cinema is waiting impatiently for them. It expects quality.

«We've accepted living without a father, but we won't accept changing our standard of living.»

Write to the author : loris.musumeci@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Outside the Box