The Barbarian Invasions

Four stars

Written and directed by Denys Arcand. Released by Miramax Films. Rated R (for language, sexual dialogue and drug content). Running time: 1 hour 39 minutes.

The cast

Remy Remy Girard
Sebastien Stephane Rousseau
Nathalie Marie-Josee Croze
Louise Dorothee Berryman
Gaelle Marina Hands


by Michael Drakulich

There is an almost all-consuming desire in many human beings to leave some sort of legacy when they die as a testament to their worth.

Whether it's making significant contributions to art or science, raising high-achieving children, or even something less decorated as knowing you meant something to your friends, there is a sense of validation we as humans get out of these accomplishments. We like to think they are our indelible imprint.

Remy (Remy Girard) is that kind of character, but seems to have missed his mark. When we're first introduced to him, we find he is a distinguished history professor and incurable womanizer lying in a Montreal hospital, dying of cancer.

Knowing this we suspect there will be disingenuous visits from one-time friends, apologies, deathbed regrets, all presented in a thickly maudlin tone.

Not so here.

This is director Denys Arcand's companion to his 1986 film "The Decline of the American Empire," a sort of "where are they now" piece. The vibrant characters we first saw in that film are brought together again under circumstances that have dulled their luster.

Remy is an intellectual, left-wing bon vivant, and self-professed hedonist with a biting wit. His illness has sharpened his edge though. He engages in heated discussion about religion with one of his nurses. He is derisive toward humanity ("the history of human beings is a history of horrors," he says). We realize much of the ranting and raving is because the life he lived so fully is being cut short.

Perhaps he saves his harshest criticism for his estranged son Sebastien (Stephane Rousseau), who comes to visit at the urgence of his mother Louise (Dorothee Berryman).

Father and son have been estranged for years because of a difference in philosophy. Remy is a believer in Canada's socialism. Sebastien is a capitalist who works for an investment firm in London.

Knowing his penchant for womanizing (including his students), and as we witness his bombastic behavior, Arcand makes it easy for us and Sebastien to initially dismiss this man as one suffering for his past sins, and perhaps deservedly so. But after a while he grows on you, just as he says living kind of grows on you.

We learn from Sebastien's mother that Remy was not a totally self-indulgent jerk. He was devoted to his children when they were young, with almost a ferocity to his love to match the contempt for humanity he now has.
So in one final familial gesture to his dying father, Sebastien then uses his influence and money to bring comfort to him.

He gathers together Remy's closest friends, colleagues and past mistresses to bid adieu. He also manages to procure Heroin to ease his father's pain, which Morphine can no longer do.

Gradually, as friends come together and pain subsides, Remy can reminisce and engage in the intellectual banter he once enjoyed with them so much before going their separate ways. It is one last joyful assemblage for him and brings about his more humane side.

His contempt subsides into rueful introspection particularly when his friend's daughter, Nathalie (Marie-Josee Croze), helps him administer the heroin. She is an addict herself and the two develop a bond. Her inquisitiveness into Remy's life is the mechanism by which he can reflect most sincerely. They have no history, so he can be completely honest with his regrets and his successes. The irony here is the indulgent lifestyle he has led convinces her to seek help for her addiction.

Arcand's film strikes familiar chords with its sensitivity and criticism. Even in a short time, Remy has made quite an impression on some of the staff and the last days he spends with his friends is his confirmation that he's meant something significant to them. To some, that is all that can be hoped for.

Arcand superbly sculpts his backdrop to accentuate his themes. He takes some not-so-subtle jabs at the Canadian healthcare system and its inefficiency which gives a feeling of despair to Remy’s circumstances. But the resolution between father and son set against this backdrop becomes all the more sweet and poignant.
*
Michael Drakulich is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association. He may be reached at (708) 802-8841 or via e-mail at mdrakulich@starnewspapers.com