Olivier, Olivier – Agnieszka Holland | #film

Olivier, Olivier – Agnieszka Holland

French kitchen sink drama from 1992. A somewhat forgotten little masterpiece by Agnieszka Holland.

Agnieszka Holland’s fourth foreign film was inspired by real events – the basis for the screenplay was a report printed in the magazine Le Matin, presenting the story of a missing child found after many years. Olivier, Olivier does not, however, recreate authentic events. The ‘double’ title, which easily evokes associations with the director’s previous work, Europe, Europe, may suggest that the 1992 film is an auteur film. In Olivier, the viewer can find almost all of the most important issues recurring in Holland’s work, from the motif of immaturity and self-deception to the question of human identity.

The film is set in the picturesque French countryside. The idyllic surroundings are the backdrop for a drama that unfolds in an ordinary, unremarkable family. Although the Duval family appears happy, from the very beginning the film hints at minor tensions between the members of the household. Elisabeth (Brigitte Roüan) spoils her 9-year-old son Olivier (Emmanuel Moroz), which makes the boy’s older sister Nadine (Faye Gatteau) feel somewhat rejected. The woman’s overprotectiveness also causes conflicts with her husband, veterinarian Serge (François Cluzet), who does not like the way the child is brought up. The real nightmare begins, however, when one day Olivier, sent to his grandmother, disappears under mysterious circumstances.

Looking under the surface of so-called normal life, revealing the tensions underneath and meticulously analysing human relationships are all constant elements of Holland’s cinema. Olivier, Olivier seems to be a perfect example of this strategy – a tragic event exposes the immaturity of the characters and the fragility of the relationships they built. The hysterical Elisabeth wallows in her pain without paying attention to the emotions of others, whilst Serge runs away from his problems instead of confronting them. The couple blames each other for the boy’s disappearance, and the biggest victim of the situation is Nadine, who has to find her own way to work through the grief of her brother.

In Holland’s film, however, the motif of the breakdown of a family, which has already been heavily exploited in cinema, is only the point of departure. The mechanisms governing the protagonists’ psyche are only fully revealed later, when there is hope for the family to be reunited.

Six years after the tragic event, the inspector investigating Olivier’s case comes across a 15-year-old boy (Gregoire Colin) who reminds him of the missing boy. The teenager, pressed by the investigator, finally admits that he is Olivier and agrees to return home. There is a chance that finding their son will reunite the broken family. However, the newcomer is very enigmatic, with something of a devil and something of an angel in him – tenderness is combined with deliberation, innocence with perversion. The teenage Nadine (Marina Golovine) doubts whether the boy is her brother or just an impostor pretending to be him.

Already the film’s ‘double’ title encourages us to ask whether the 15-year-old is Olivier, who disappeared years ago. The question of identity, however, is not only important in terms of the plot – Holland’s film is not just another trite drama about family secrets – it is above all a psychological film. Whilst in Europa, Europa the director explored the issue of identity in the context of the traumatic historical experiences of the 20th century, in her 1992 film she presents a similar issue on a much smaller, intimate scale. Is our essence determined by our individual qualities or only by the roles we play? If someone else suddenly found themselves in our place, would it even be noticed by our loved ones? Do we love others for who they are or because we are trying to fill an emotional void within ourselves? The film’s unsettling finale, wrongly regarded by film scholars as unequivocally optimistic, leaves these questions open-ended.

In terms of presentation, in Olivier, Olivier, Holland continues, to a certain extent, the poetics of her early films but at the same time introduces new elements. Although the story is essentially realistic and focused on character observation, there are references to a variety of genres, from family drama to detective story and fairy tale. For example, the story of the disappearance of Oliver, who goes to his grandmother’s house in a red cap, is clearly reminiscent of the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, unprepared for his confrontation with the evil wolf. Under the cloak of attractive genre conventions, however, the director continues her authorial discourse and presents the complex dynamics of human relationships. Discreet, yet well-thought-out staging, excellent dramaturgy and superb acting make Olivier, Olivier one of the best works by the Polish director. Unfortunately, although the film was quite well-known in the 1990s, it appears to be forgotten by the wider audience today.

Olivier, Olivier. Directed by Agnieszka Holland. Screenplay by Agnieszka Holland. Director of photography: Bernard Zitzermann. Production design: Helene Bourgy, Benoit Clemenceau. Music: Zbigniew Preisner. Cast: François Cluzet (Serge Duval), Brigitte Roüan (Elisabeth Duval), Gregoire Colin (Olivier), Marina Golovine (Nadine), Jean-François Stévenin (Inspector Druot), Fraderic Quiring (Marcel), Faye Gatteau (little Nadine), Emmanuel Morozof (little Olivier). Oliane Productions, Films A2, Canal+, Soficas Investimages, CNC, France 1991. 104 minutes.

agnieszka holland

olivier olivier

polish films