Films about alcoholism are quite common, but Julia really isn’t about alcoholism, it’s about an alcoholic (a subtle but important distinction), only the character of Mitch, (Saul Rubinek) her AA sponsor, wants her to stop drinking, he’s also the only character who is willing to give her the time of day because he recognises something of himself in her. His thinking is that no one is irredeemable, because when he was an alcoholic he was much worse, almost killing his own child in a drunken rage and losing his family as a result. But his attempts to get her off the booze are both fleeting and futile. Julia also has another vice – she is a pathological liar. She is defined by her incessant lying to get her way and achieve her goals; she lies with no concern for others. Swinton herself notes that Julia only tells the truth twice in the entire film, the first time during her confession to her old friend Nick (Jude Ciccolella) when she admits how messed up her life is while trying to convince him to join her on the heist she’s planning (here she only uses the truth to add weight to her proposition, knowing that her genuine emotion might sway Nick). Swinton also noted that the alcoholics she knows are often fiercely intelligent people and it is that intelligence which facilitates their slippery slide into alcohol dependency. It’s an interesting point as Julia consistently proves herself to be an intelligent woman throughout the film; to lie so frequently and so convincingly takes both imagination and skill; the few slip ups she makes are often a result of her boozed-up state and throughout the film we get the impression that without alcohol Julia’s life might be quite different. Julia is an original and engaging character, Mitch describes her at one point as an “out of control, blind, alcoholic, psychopath” and she is consistently so. More impressive still is the lack of exposition surrounding the character. We know more about the history of supporting characters like Mitch than we know about Julia; her past is a mystery and thankfully so, as it is far more satisfying to speculate about the events that made Julia who she is today rather than have them explained via flashback or worse still have Julia explain why she is the way she is to another character (not that we could trust such an explanation were it provided as in such an event Julia is more likely to lie than tell the truth).
Julia is inspired by Cassavete’s film Gloria (1980) the plot of which followed a former gangsters moll (Gena Rowlands) who is forced to protect a young boy after his family is killed by the Mafia. Gloria is also similarly un-maternal and grows more protective towards the boy as the story progresses. Gloria, like Julia, is a character piece with elements of a thriller, it is one of Cassavete’s weaker films with some strangely unsubtle directorial choices (overwrought score etc), perhaps this is why Zonca selected the film for his unofficial semi-remake. Although the films have no direct ties, Zonca himself has frequently referenced Gloria as a source of inspiration. Cassavetes is also an inspiration for Zonca, who openly admits to using many of Cassavetes techniques in directing Julia, one of which was to write a film that was far too long: the production eventually shot four and a half hours of material, but did so with the deliberate intent of cutting it down to the comparatively shorter two and a half hours which the film currently stands at. Creating a film that is deliberately excessive means that the filming process can be both organic and character orientated. It is a method which gives the director more freedom during editing to pick and mix the strongest sequences of the film, but that freedom obviously comes at a price. It’s impressive that Zonca was able to shoot a film at this length at all, especially given that the budget was slashed by a third just before filming began (which resulted in a significantly reduced rehearsal period which was instead taken up by the casting process.) Julia could be considered an homage to the films of Cassavetes, it never comes close to tipping the balance from pastiche to plagiarism, even with the similarities listed here there is enough of Zonca’s own visual language to distinguish it and the film has a particular texture and tone that one wouldn’t find in the films of Cassavetes.
M.Dawson |
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French director Erick Zonca wanted to make a film which would begin as a portrait of a woman then slowly change gears and become a thriller about kidnapping and violence. Zonca has completely succeeded as his 2008 film Julia is a particularly impressive character piece which organically develops into something rather more generic in its second half. The shift is gradual rather than sudden, as Zonca masterfully blends these two incongruous sides of his film with an array of techniques, many of which were borrowed from similar films that John Cassavetes wrote and directed in the latter stages of his career. Of course a character piece needs an individual at its centre who is either interesting/unique or deeply sympathetic (In the case of Julia, Zonca and co-writer Aude Py have opted for the former); a character piece also needs a strong central performance as the success of the entire film rests on the our involvement with the protagonist; the weight of the entire production is rested on the shoulders of the lead actor (in this case the ingenious casting of Tilda Swinton in the titular role of Julia). The writing and performance of this character are arguably the films greatest assets and are epitomised in the films opening scenes: we begin with Julia drinking, dancing and touching up random men. She is a middle aged woman with long red hair and wearing a night club dress that she doesn’t quite pull off. She flirts with a man who describes himself as a “little bit married”, though his marital status doesn’t put her off, she tells him “she’s got something for his wife” and gives him a make-up smudging kiss on the cheek. We cut to slightly later in the evening as Julia stumbles into the next room of the night club accompanied by the Eurhythmics song ‘Sweet Dreams’, the lyrics can be clearly heard: “some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you”, words that seem strangely prophetic and are reflected by what occurs later in the film. As the song reaches its crescendo Julia flamboyantly throws a dance move into the air with her whole arm, knocking herself out of the drunken trance she appeared to be held within seconds earlier. The title appears on screen next to her, identifying this drunken middle aged lady, she then shoves a woman out of the way and jumps on a group of drunken businessmen and screams with laughter. She grabs the married man by his tie and leads him onto the dance floor as the song continues. We then hard cut to the next morning, the music has stopped dead and the cold blue light of day exposes this dirty little one night stand for what it is, the camera focuses on Julia and the married man lying asleep together in the back of his car. The romance is dead (if there was any to begin with); the man’s first instinct is to make sure he still has his wallet; Julia’s tongue hangs from her dehydrated mouth as she attempts to get some moisture back into her throat. Julia’s abrasive attitude towards the man demonstrates the two sides of her character “don’t fucking touch me” she snaps at him after she’s awoken. When Julia is drunk she is happy and is the life and soul of the party, when she’s not drunk she is a foul mouthed and often vicious individual whose temper is quick and who only has one concern in life – herself. Like many who are afflicted with alcoholism she is not prepared to admit her problem to herself or anyone else.
As the film continues Zonca pushes the narrative towards a thriller, as Julia kidnaps a young boy named Tom (Aidan Gould) and double crosses Tom’s mother Elena (Kate del Castillo in a very memorable performance) whose idea it was to kidnap Tom in the first place. Julia attempts to extort money from the boy’s rich grandfather and ends up hiding in Mexico from the authorities. The plot takes several twists and turns in its second and third acts and over the course of the film we see Julia’s buried maternal instincts emerging and compromising her plans as she becomes increasingly motivated by Tom’s safety more than the ransom money. Mexican kidnapper’s mistake Julia and Tom for a wealthy American mother and son and decide to snatch Tom from Julia. This never seems contrived although the rather one-sided depiction of Mexicans as criminals does border on xenophobic, this being one of the films only flaws, but one which is compensated for by the fact that the American protagonist at the films heart is infinitely more vile, self-serving, amoral and ruthless than the Mexican gang members. Julia barely pauses for reflection when she is forced to murder one of the Mexican gang; rather than feeling like a missing character beat, we accept this as Julia’s continued misanthropic attitude.
The film does become increasingly tense during the second half; one sequence where Julia goes to a train station to collect the ransom from a luggage locker is the closest the film comes to a traditional thriller, as it is the only part of the film which uses prominent non-digetic sound to increase anxiety. Julia gets spooked by the potential for a sting operation, her paranoia overtakes her as she glances around the station seeing a number of men staring back at her. But even here the film maintains character first and foremost, making use of its strong comic streak as Julia heads into the ladies room, looks at herself in the mirror and then begins slapping herself in the face and shouts “pull yourself together” only to be interrupted by the sound of a toilet being flushed from one of the cubicles behind her. There are many such comedic character moments throughout the film; Julia’s incessant dissembling becomes rather humorous, especially when she lies just for the sake of it, with no discernable reason. Other quieter moments of Julia by herself are also grotesquely funny; an early scene sees her enter her apartment and wipe her armpits with her hands then pull her top off revealing that she’s wearing a bra but no panties. Julia’s nervousness endears her to us, during the train station sequence or when she’s kidnapping Tom. We empathise with Julia and are invested in the outcome of her story; Swinton described this as “corrupting the audience” into sympathising with Julia. We are so attached to our protagonist (who is present in almost every scene of the film) that we can even overlook the films occasional lapses in realism. Surely the finest achievement for any filmmaker, writer or actor is to create a character that is so totally irredeemable and so completely unlikeable but then manipulate the audience to the point where we root for her success and safety. As Swinton put it: “A zoological experiment in amoral compassion” an experiment for which we have been the all too willing Guinea Pigs.
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