Anatomy of a Fall - ‘Beyond Fest’
Anatomy of a Fall centers itself around a question of murder, but underneath it is a sophisticated investigation into the details of a crumbling relationship amidst the snowy Alps.
Sandra’s husband Samuel, a teacher, falls to his death in their rustic chalet that was once his childhood home. Samuel shares the space with Sandra and their blind son, Daniel. Samuel’s visual presence is cut short due to his death, but his essence lingers through the booming sounds of an instrumental cover for “P.I.M.P”. A year later after this tragedy, Sandra calls her friend Vincent to take on her case of whether Samuel fell out the window or was pushed. Sandra denies any involvement but doesn’t want to believe Samuel would kill himself. Given the context, she becomes the suspect and is put on trial.
Since Sandra’s career as a well-known writer is set around speaking her mind and soul through her words to the world, being upfront on a trial retelling her story is not foreign to her. The difference is how Triet uses this platform to highlight the dangers of opening one’s soul to the world leaving it up to judgment and interpretation. Sandra is faced with deciphering truth versus fiction to the jury. Coincidently one of her books is about a woman who kills her husband mirroring her situation.
The inner workings of a relationship are only known by the people in them. Emotions can range from love to anger, there is never one word that defines an entire relationship. Director Justine Triet’s script understands the enigma of relationships with those outside and the imagination in filling in the blanks of what we don’t see.
Justine Triet does not fall for the cliche trappings of a big reveal at the end of the case. She forces the audience to sit with the unraveling details hiding at any corner to partake in how easy it is to interpret someone’s life. The fragments of the couple’s life together mixed with the trial are sharply structured to scatter clues the deeper the investigation of this relationship goes. When utilized correctly courtrooms can help draw out the emotions, behaviors, and philosophies of the person at the stand, almost like being in a discussion group where nothing is off the table. While you are questioning what happened by using these clues, that is not the point of the film. Young Daniel states that it is not about the what but the why and that is the thesis of Triet’s work.
Triet allows conversations to pour out no matter how redundant or ambiguous through the courtroom setting. She places information that makes either side plausible for the viewer and jury, but again solving the case is not the point here. At times the prosecutor is straight-up evil, but he is not supposed to be the villain here nor is this a commentary on how the French justice system is corrupt. Strangely he has a point to the attacks he is spewing towards Sandra. In these sequences, Triet strips down her style to avoid musical or camera techniques to signal any moments that stir the audience. There is more left to answer than whether or not she did it or not.
The major mood change comes from an audio recording of the couple fighting which brings the flat room to life. The tape plays, placing the audience in the room that houses their verbal turned physical argument. When it gets violent, there is a switch back to the courtroom leaving these noises up to interpretation with no images to back what actually happened, only Sandra to apply the sounds to her memory. There is meant to be ambiguity in her statements as solidified by Daniel’s own testimonies at piecing together the broken relationship of his parents through experiencing it at the same moment as the jury, leaving the idea that the jury cannot decide who is to blame in the course of this entire relationship.
The argument sequence in itself is extremely draining, wringing out the audience with a plethora of new information on this couple changing everything the judgment they had already formed on the entire situation. Triet is speaking to the idea of sacrifice in relationships, most specifically how there are more ways to kill someone than the literal form of killing. To Samuel, he was already dead in the time he had wasted not writing or making a name for himself, shifting all his life choices onto Sandra. Their dynamic is unbearable to watch, but it is so integral to what Justine Triet aims to do.
Justine Triet appreciates a dual story, and how one side can tell its story in their absence. The audience only knows Samuel from limited information never coming from himself, only from this one tape, Sandra’s perspective, and his therapist’s recount of their sessions. Triet highlights the storytelling’s power to use details to speculate about someone’s livelihood. Like the inclusion of Sandra’s books, the small snippets of Samuel add to Triet’s interest in fact versus fiction. Their fates lie in how compelling these narratives are for the jury to believe.
Anatomy of a Fall isn’t trying to spring any “gotcha” moments, it is a clean, murky story that focuses on the characters and ideas placed on trial, leaving it up to the audience to actively listen and imagine who these people really are. It is not about the verdict, but the destruction of a marriage.