Thursday, 25 June 2020

Lilith (Robert Rossen, 1964)

War veteran Vincent Bruce goes to work at local institution and quickly falls under the spell of one of the patients, Lilith. As their relationship grows more intimate, roles blur and Vincent's own demons begin to bubble to the surface...


Emotionally explicit and quietly devastating, I have not stopped thinking about Lilith since I saw it earlier this year.

The reason I checked this movie out was Jean Seberg. I had heard this was considered her best performance, and since the last Seberg movie I saw was Bonjour Triestesse, I was eager to see it.

What I remember of her performance in Bonjour Triestesse was memorable but for the wrong reasons. Seberg had a tortured relationship with the filmmaker who discovered her, Otto Preminger. Preminger discovered her and made her the lead of his adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's St Joan. Preminger is infamous for his temper and inability to work with actors (baring a few exceptions).

Bonjour Tristesse is hard to watch because you can see the effect of Preminger's abuse on Seberg. The film is filled with extended takes, and Seberg - lacking the technique and experience to sustain - visibly dries up in the middle of shots, sometimes in the middle of line-readings.

It is a strange, troubling performance, and hard to forget.

Watching Lilith, I was struck by how different this performance was. Preminger had hounded Seberg, determined through two punishing shoots to draw out her talent, yet lacking any of the patience or empathy that could have given her the comfort and space to deliver.

Generally speaking, I try to judge a performance on its own, but here I could not help watching Lilith in the context of her career: Hypnotising, knowing, teasing, weirdly sympathetic yet still mysterious, Seberg's portrayal of Lilith is night and day from what I knew of her. Free of Preminger and post-Breathless, Seberg seems so free and confident. She is - was a star. 

Warren Beatty feels believably cowed in her presence. At first I found Beatty a little flat - it took a while but his understated performance works well with filmmaker Robert Rossen's more lyrical approach. His disaffected feels increasingly unsettling as his relationship with Lilith progresses.

Speaking of the filmmakers' approach, Rossen accomplishes most of the key emotional and relationship dynamics non-verbally - there are hints of the French New Wave to the editing style, but it is far more overtly narrative-driven. His approach to editing is almost impressionistic, hinting at things rather than battering you over the head with them.

The film reminded me of Claude Chabrol's late 60s films, particularly in their reluctance to reveal motivation.

The film is mostly from Vincent's point-of-view, yet the film never feels truly subjective. Vincent is searching for purpose, and seems to find it in a relationship with Lilith. While it is clearly based on obvious attraction, there is something else underpinning their union - a shared unspoken trauma.

There is a hint of incest to Vincent's infatuation, a subtext internalised when it is revealed he keeps photos of his mother and Lilith on his bedside table. As the film progresses it becomes harder to differentiate between patient and staff member - the key difference is that Vincent represses that which afflicts him, while Lilith expresses it in the way she interacts with other people.

Naming the character Lilith conjures up different ideas: Adam's first wife; a demon; an independent woman; unknowable; uncontrollable. I have never studied the semiotics or theory surrounding the name, but with regards to this movie I do not think you need to know.

The film juxtaposes the institution with Vince's one external relationship with Pam (Jessica Walter),  the woman Vincent previously loved. She is now a housewife to a boorish chauvinist (Hackman). The scene when Vince meets Laura at home is the funniest and bleakest sequence in the film.

Laura's husband blusters through conversation, attempting to be friendly and reinforce his own masculinity. In a sign of his own weakness, he draws a line from Vincent's job to his mother's mental illness.

A gross betrayal of trust, it also illuminates a level of intimacy between Vince and Laura that exceeds his relationship with Lilith. When Norman leaves, Laura attempts to seduce Vincent and he declines. She leaves in shame.

The filmmakers leave plenty of air in these conversations, constantly cutting between the participants. The lack of a score only emphasises the awkwardness, and the superficiality of these characters. Unable to express how they truly feel, there is little to seperate them from the people at the institution.

I spent the movie questioning and by equal turns marvelling at the film's take on Lilith - the camera seems both repelled and obsessed with her. The movie portrays her sexuality as an expression of her condition. There is something almost lecherous about Lilith's fixation with touch. The film's revelations about her relationship with a woman, and her encounters with young children feel questionable - is the film painting non-heterosexual attraction with paedophilia?
    The film, in its elliptical way, is focused on the blurring of boundaries and breakdown of power between the supposed patient and staff.

     As a showcase for Jean Seberg, Lilith is worth a look. As a film in its own right, it is a strange, elliptical, and weirdly empathetic character study that I am still trying to puzzle out. I almost want to leave this review as a Part One and come back to it. 
     
    Watch this space...

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