Classic Film Review #5: Portrait of a Lady on Fire
Available on: Netflix
Céline Sciamma’s tale of forbidden love is fascinating for many reasons. Chiefly, it is a visually arresting film that is innately attuned to the artistic talents of one of its two protagonists, a lonely painter (Noémie Merlant) who is sent to a remote island to paint the wedding portrait of a reluctant young muse (Adèle Haenel).
Much of that is down to the way Sciamma and cinematographer Claire Mathon frame proceedings, with many scenes almost acting as a portrait in their own right. There are so many moments in Portrait of a Lady on Fire where you’d be forgiven for pausing your television and admiring its aesthetic, such is the craft with which the aforementioned pair deliver each scene.
The film is also intriguingly sparse in terms of both events and casts. The taboo romance takes an almost agonising amount of time to develop, though this seems befitting of real-life and Sciamma’s (assumed) commitment to delivering a story that is emotionally resonant. Credit must go to both Merlant and Haenel for the conviction of their respective performances – each lovelorn glance is completely believable, and every word their characters utter feels as if it has come straight from the heart.
With virtually all of the film’s cast being female, it is easy to see why Portrait of a Lady on Fire is held up as a great example of feminist filmmaking. But lying beyond this is its most impressive quality, that being the way it so brazenly reclaims cinematic gaze from a masculine beholder and lends it to a feminine perspective. Sciamma’s film is a beautiful celebration of the uniqueness of the female experience – its beauty, its sorrow, and everything in between.
Few films manage to lend its characters’ eyes as effectively to its audience as this, which makes for a truly distinctive visual experience. This is a deeply powerful and honest musing on the nature of desire and womanhood which singles Sciamma out as one of the foremost names in contemporary cinema.
