Nathalie Granger

Sparse and moody, somehow doesn’t entirely work for me with its heavy-handed symbolism (the recurring barred windows, for example), static camera, and Bresson-like excision of feeling, but its unreadable and unresolved interpersonal narratives make this a compelling viewing experience overall. What little plot there is revolves around a young girl, Nathalie, who is expelled after exhibiting violent behavior toward her classmates, and is evidently on the point of being “finished” in life if she does not continue her piano lessons. Her mental condition and the rather bizarre conclusion drawn from it don’t make much sense and are not further explained; neither is her mother’s rather fragile response, nor is her relationship with the other woman in the story (lover? roommate? friend?). Duras does not provide any information to go on but sets up long and increasingly tense shots between characters, evoking palpable if unclear moods, interesting as segments but ultimately building toward little. It plays like a proto-Dielman as the women go about rote chores listlessly, but lacks Akerman’s rigor and resonance to make much of a point about anything. Depardieu’s small role is a highlight, coming as a welcome kind of comic relief as the only character with a real emotional identity or articulated viewpoint, playing an inept and disgruntled washing machine salesman.