Film and Felt

Maybe it’s just me. After all, Claire Denis’ Friday Night (2002) was a tremendous hit amongst the art-theatre crowds, with its defenders claiming its emotional transcendence matches that of Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love. And her Beau Travail (1999) also garnered great acclaim for its portrayal of an ex-Foreign Legion officer’s recollections of a jealous, turbulent-yet-exuberant, youth. In both cases, I found myself extremely underwhelmed: Friday Night had its moments of loveliness, but the closed compositions and detached editing failed to draw me into its net. Beau Travail fled my memory about five days after I’d finished it. While a slight urge to revisit Friday Night tugs at my brain—and netflix queue—Denis never struck me as anything close to the auteur that some claim her to be. Now, recently released on DVD, comes an earlier Denis effort; I Can’t Sleep (1994). Telling the story of three semi-intertwined lives—the beautiful Lithuanian immigrant Daiga, the careworn musician Theo (who also happens to be a single father), and Theo’s transvestite dancer brother, Camille—in Paris, with the backdrop (which eventually becomes the forefront) of the infamous “Granny murders” (based on a true story), I Can’t Sleep is more intriguing than Denis’ later efforts, but no less frustrating, and ultimately unrewarding.

I Can’t Sleep kicks off inside a car interior, also the home of a crucial moment in Friday Night, as Daiga smokes a cigarette, soon after her arrival in Paris. There’s a jazzy, carefree feel early on—much different than the dreamy atmosphere of Friday Night—but it quickly dissipates into Denis’ normal, bleak outlook. The narrative structure is interesting, introducing us to the three leads without spilling the beans as to whom is involved with the ‘Granny Killer’ (and in what way), but for all its slickness, I Can’t Sleep is oddly devoid of a soul for such a unique topic matter. The dialogue, frequently shaky, doesn’t help, and neither does the detached aura that Daiga, Theo, and Camille all project: theoretically, they’re sharply designed, but realistically, they’re well-tuned like robots, not human beings. This isn’t the actor’s fault here—I place the blame squarely on Denis’ shoulders for I Can’t Sleep’s shortcomings.

Denis appears adamant about promoting feminine power, at times implanting her ideals into Daiga’s character: for instance, an extended sequence showcasing a self-defense class takes about three minutes. Later, Daiga runs from a Frenchman’s evening advances, bolting into the nearest movie theatre, where she proceeds to laugh herself silly at the film’s most dramatic moment—a sexual advance by the female lead. While Denis’ attempts to endorse female & sexual assertiveness (I.E., not simply succumbing to some man’s dreamy eyes) are just dandy in and of themselves, they come across as awkward when viewed as part of the film’s puzzle. What is I Can’t Sleep trying to be? A character study? A murder mystery? A statement on femininity (also including the transvestite character)? While none of these angles exactly fall flat, none distinguish themselves either, and often seem to pop up at a time when a different one appears to be reaching a climax.

Technically, I Can’t Sleep is quite accomplished—the dark color schemes, patient camera movements, and vivid performances contribute to an efficient, somber mood. Unfortunately, it lacks the heart to match it, making it more of a rare zoo animal: the audience can admire from afar, but has no desire to really approach it. Epitomizing this mindset is the final encounter between the granny killer and their mother—it’s beautifully filmed, and might have landed a haymaker to our senses if Denis had allowed us to approach her characters, without guarding them fiercely. Perhaps some will get more out of I Can’t Sleep then I, but while I certainly can’t wholly recommend avoiding it, it’s not complete enough to recommend seeing, either.