«Players - nothing goes right!

Cinema Wednesdays - Thierry Fivaz

For her first feature film, promising young director Marie Monge continues the exploration she began with Marseille by night, a medium-length film nominated for a 2014 César award, and takes another look at this third France. This forgotten France, the one of the slums, the thugs and the tough guys with the tender hearts. For if with Players Marie Monge tells us the story of a love affair between Abel (Tahar Rahim), a small-time gambling addict, and Ella (Stacy Martin), a lost young woman. But it's also, and above all, a story of addiction(s), set in the gambling circles of Paris.

But it was a risky gamble. Gambling, passion and the madness that ensues are well-known themes, particularly in literature. Dostoyevsky and Zweig, to name but a few, have set out to present the subtleties of gambling passion. A devouring and dangerous passion which, as Zweig writes, can be read in the eyes, and which even rejuvenates the gambler's face when he wins, and transforms him into an old man as soon as he loses his initial stake. In our case, however, Players fails to present the subtleties of gaming addiction in a convincing and comprehensive way. It's a pity. Fortunately, there's always Zweig or Dostoyevsky for that.

Some critics, however, like Guillemette Odicinode of Télérama, applauded the film's «raging energy» and correctly identified the many references to cinema - particularly French cinema - that punctuate the film (Godard, Audiard). Players shares one thing above all with its illustrious predecessors: their flaws. Namely, ordinary characters (a «belle» and a «tramp») bordering on caricature, in search of love (it's more like passion, but they're both unaware of it) and independence.

Ella is fragile, candid, naive and, dare we say it, a prodigious example of idiocy. To the point of wondering whether the film is really directed by a woman at all. Players paints an unflattering portrait of women - light-years away from reality. Ella's character reinforces the stereotype of the impressionable, gullible, spineless, submissive woman who believes she loves, but loses herself in the flood of feelings for a man who manipulates and abuses her. A man who uses her solely for his erotic and financial resources. It's like a dream.

Unfortunately, the clichés don't stop there. As the consonance of his first name indicates, the story of Tahar Rahim's character is part of a larger story: that of Franco-Algerian history. And, once again conveying the stereotypes that have been the hallmark of extreme right-wing parties in France for years, Abel is clearly not a banker, lawyer or diligent employee. Monge's portrait of him is that of a penniless thirty-something, a smooth talker with a pretty face who gave up work in favor of the easy money (and adrenaline) of betting and gambling. Abel's addiction was not to be found in the glamorous halls of Monegasque casinos, but in Parisian gaming circles. Although these were authorized establishments, they were particularly opaque and had a sulphurous reputation. (ed. note: certain establishments are said to have helped finance organized crime).

In short, Marie Monge's first feature film tells the story of a foolish woman in love with a gambling addict who even manages to rob her of her savings and inheritance. Although the film aims to be as intense as Abel's gambling addiction, it hardly succeeds. The love scenes and nudes, which should, as always, express this intensity, fail to do so, but this is hardly surprising. In the role of the lover, Stacy Martin is particularly bland. Just like her character and Tahar Rahim. The two protagonists even seem float, because they lack any real depth or psychology. It's impossible to get attached to them, or to feel saddened by their descent into hell.

One of the reasons for this is that the director seems to have confused the suggestive and the mysterious with the lacuna. The most blatant example is temporality. While this amorous episode seems to take place over a few days, we learn from peripheral characters that the narrative actually spans several months. And yet, from the looks of the two lovebirds, it seems that the months that have passed have done nothing to help them get to know each other. Abel is still a mystery to Ella, who remains unsuspecting and stubborn in her fantasies, persisting in her stupidity - which almost seems to have become habitual for her.

In the end, this lacklusterly photographed debut film comes across as socially disturbing, because it's full of unfortunate stereotypes. When you think that some voices were raised against the racist clichés that would have been conveyed by a film like Untouchables, we can ask ourselves whether, in his own way, Players wouldn't deserve the same reprimand. But perhaps we're reacting with the same impudence and susceptibility of the losing player. In our case, no money, fortunately, but a little of our time.

Write to the author: thierry.fivaz@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Agora Films