Abuse of Weakness, the latest offering by French filmmaker Catherine Breillat, is an intriguing and compelling film that unflinchingly portrays Breillat’s own curious story.
The autobiographical film is based upon Breillat’s experiences, beginning with her suffering a stroke in 2004 and following her through the long recovery process and adapting to life partly crippled. During this time, Breillat became entangled with the notorious conman Christophe Rocancourt, who eventually scammed her out of over 700,000 euros.
Bravely, taking Breillat’s place in the tale (though the character is named Maud in the film) is the talented Isabelle Huppert who brings warmth and humanity to the challenging role. Kool Shen plays the Rocancourt character, renamed ‘Vilko’.
Despite these changes the story appears to stick closely to the known facts of the case, and Breillat coolly displays the curious dynamic between the filmmaker and conman. Knowing his criminal history, Maud casts Vilko in her upcoming film and the two embark on what seems to be a power struggle.
Physically weak, but apparently mentally strong, Maud is both a sympathetic and inscrutable character, expertly navigated by Huppert. Huppert is believable when she vows with intensity, from her sick bed, that if she ever recovers, “I’ll be an atomic bomb.” Her portrayal of the physical symptoms of her condition is often hard to watch, but never feels overdone or false.
As the film develops, Maud begins to write Vilko the cheques he asks for; a pattern developing between them that will destroy her financially. “It was me, but it wasn’t me,” she says, attempting to explain her actions as she reaches breaking point. The film builds to this point, tightly structured and beautifully executed with confined visuals that convey the somewhat claustrophobic aspects of Maud’s life. Her family makes appearances in and out of this life, and their absence is what is most striking. Vilko is the constant presence, on the other end of the phone and in her house.
Abuse of Weakness seems to be an unapologetic attempt on Breillat’s part to understand her experiences and it is remarkable in its authenticity. Although it is a departure from her usual work, Breillat retains her ability to courageously portray her own life on the screen with a kind of unblinking self-reflexivity that is admirable. This fascinating drama is well worth viewing.
Review Score: FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Abuse of Weakness screened as part of the Sydney Film Festival.
———-
