Thursday, July 02, 2009
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Julian Schnabel, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Photo Credit: Miramax Films

by Kathryn Durfee
05/02/2008

At first glance, Julian Schnabel's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly seems doomed to be a depressing tale of loss, regret and heartache. The film triumphs in presenting audiences with a respectful and honest portrait, and though sad, succeeds in becoming 2007's most powerful and uplifting work of cinematic art.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is the devastating true story of Jean-Dominique Bauby, who in 1995 at age 43 suffered a cerebro-vascular accident (a massive stroke) that rendered him almost completely paralyzed. Except for his left eyelid, Bauby was incapable of any movement or verbal communication struck with what the medical community calls "locked-in syndrome." Bauby equates the feeling with being trapped in an old-fashioned diving bell. With nothing but memories and his imagination, Bauby was trapped in his own body, motionless in his bed at the Marine Hospital of Berck-sur-Mer in northern France. Through a code developed by his beautiful young therapist, Bauby was able to silently dictate, letter by letter, a memoir of his struggle to a publisher's assistant over a fourteen-month period. Bauby died in 1997, only two days after the book was published.

The film begins with a hazy and disorienting sequence as Jean-Dominique (Mathieu Amalric) is told that he has just awoken from a three-week-long coma. He desperately tries to communicate with his doctors, ultimately realizing that he cannot speak. It is only then that we realize what we have been hearing was merely his internal voice. With Jean-Do as our filter, we meet his family and friends. A parade of beautiful women, his butterflies, enter his life; first the speech therapist Henriette (Marie-Josée Croze), then his ex-partner and mother of his three children Celine (Emmanuelle Seigner), and finally the publisher's assistant Claude (Anne Consigny). Though he initially wants to die, Jean-Dominique is inspired by his friend Roussin (Niels Arestrup), who had been held hostage in Beirut for four years. Roussin instructs Jean-Do to "hang on to the human who is inside of you." Overwhelmed with guilt, Bauby realizes that it is selfish for him to want to die when everyone is praying for him.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly continues through Jean-Do's point of view as he finally learns how the stroke has altered his appearance. After a particularly disturbing scene in which we see, from Jean-Do's perspective, his right eye being sewn shut to avoid infection, he sees his reflection in a glass pane. He thinks, "God, who's that? I look like I came out of a vat of formaldehyde." After about thirty minutes, the film transitions from Bauby's interior monologue to the outside world.

As he composes his memoir, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly plays as though we have been given access to old home movies. These episodes from Jean-Do's mind are a compilation of memories, fantasies, and dreams. Though some sequences are abstract or fractured, others are incredibly vivid. The most important of these memories is a scene in which he visits his ailing father, Papinou (Max von Sydow), and gives him a shave, is heartbreaking and hauntingly prophetic. Later in the film, his father confesses that they are both locked-in, and breaks down in tears when he realizes his son cannot answer.

Even though these memories are the only scenes in which Bauby is ambulatory, the film is kept lively by his sometimes funny and cynical, sometimes lascivious (a massive stroke won't kill his libido), and sometimes saddening inner monologue. These two sides of Bauby's character reinforce his heroism. Here is a man who was struck down in the prime of his life, but rather than give up on himself, he triumphs and ultimately creates a powerful and personal work of art. Actor Mathieu Amalric delivers a tender performance, recalling those given by Daniel Day-Lewis in My Left Foot and Ralph Fiennes in The English Patient.

With a story so moving but possessing the potential to result in a film that is locked-in itself, Julian Schnabel invigorates The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by placing the viewer in Bauby's mind. Schnabel even went to the trouble to learn French in order to make the film in its original language. Janusz Kaminsky's wonderfully mobile camera allows us to see the world as Bauby does. Images go in and out of focus as he wakes from his coma, they blur as his eyes well up with tears, and they go black as he blinks each letter of his message. The beautiful cinematography frees the film from becoming as depressing as the story sounds.

Since we are told the story through Bauby's eyes, it comes to an end as he does. The final product is a deeply moving film that treats its subject with delicate sensitivity and still manages to find the humor amidst the pain. Though The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is not necessarily inspirational, it will make a lasting impression on the viewer. Anyone who has ever been placed in the role of watching a loved one slowly expire will find comfort in Bauby's thoughts and will find the film to be an uplifting tribute to those relatives and friends that have found ways to say goodbye even when nature or medicine says they can't.