François Ozon (review)

Thibaut Schilt’s François Ozon joins Andrew Asibong’s book and Kate Ince’s chapter-length study (both Manchester University Press, 2008), and Alice Stanley’s excellent unpublished doctoral thesis (University of Warwick, 2009), in its consideration of François Ozon’s already substantial body of work. Such a flurry of single-director studies speaks to the rich appeal of Ozon’s films for the anglophone academy (notably, there have yet to be any major French-language works dedicated to the director). Schilt argues that Ozon’s ‘generically and stylistically hybrid cinema’ (p. 31) proves challenging to attempts to read him as an auteur within the French critical tradition with its emphasis on coherence. Ozon’s cinema also stresses indeterminacy in terms of its portrayal of sexual preferences. While Schilt warns us that ‘it would [. . .] be preposterous to claim that the fluidity of sexuality that is frequently invoked in Ozon’s projects is the only reason for what has to be read as a critical disallowance’ (p. 34, my emphasis), nevertheless he acknowledges that the phrase ‘queer cinema’ is used almost exclusively by anglophone critics, and that, within a French context, there is a reticence to identify a film or an artist as ‘queer’, given French Republican ideals. He notes several instances in which French critics play down Ozon’s articulation of same-sex desire (such as a discussion of Catherine Deneuve and Fanny Ardant’s lesbian kiss in 8 Femmes (2002) solely under the rubric of their association with François Truffaut, p. 36), and he also repeatedly asserts that Ozon’s first bona fide hit, Sous le sable (2000), ‘is the first entry in Ozon’s filmography from which queer characters are altogether absent’ (p. 88). The emphasis on diversity in Ozon’s cinema makes him an easier fit for a queer studies critical agenda than one centred on French ‘national’ cinema traditions. Schilt enumerates the various strategies Ozon uses to highlight characters’ fluidity in his films through the repetition of devices such as clothing and water. He gives his study the subheading ‘The Fabric of Desire’, where fabric refers both to costume and structure. Initially, this leads to an elegant and beautiful close reading of Une robe d’été (1996), but Ozon’s brilliant and provocative use of costume elsewhere (and the importance of his ongoing collaboration with costume designer Pascaline Chavanne) is tantalizingly hinted at rather than fully explored. Generally, this study wears its use of theory rather lightly, briefly referencing Butler, Freud, and Barthes where their work proves illuminating in discussion of Ozon’s recurring themes of gender performativity, mourning, photography, and death. Often, one is left wanting further discussion of these important points and their dense interconnections (as with other provocative asides concerning the number of childless women in Ozon’s films). However, these comments should not detract from the value of a study that succeeds admirably as a critical introduction to Ozon’s diverse filmmaking. Especially impressive is the close visual analysis, which produces fresh and original readings of Swimming Pool (2003) and Gouttes d’eau sur pierres brûlantes (2000). Engagingly written, with an extensive bibliography, Schilt’s book will serve as a helpful springboard to further research and as an excellent text for use with undergraduate students.