Being an executor of a will requires both compassion and a Bachelor’s degree in mediation, as typically one or both of those attributes are required when dealing with those that are grieving. After pleasantries are exchanged, and the obligatory communal cry is carried out, then comes the ruthless resumption of business. So, who gets what? The deceased’s estate must be divided. Forget sibling or family rivalry, this process becomes inherently political. Lawyers are shipped in, arguments erupt, more tears are shed, and in the case ofKnives Out’s Harlan Thrombey, blood is spilled.
All of this inter-family conflict — for what? Who gets your grandma’s wine glasses or her china sugar bowls? In the instances of brother and sister Simon and Jeanne Marwan in the greatDenis VilleneuvefilmIncendies,it isn’t who gets what piece of crockery or glassware that is contentious when they’re read their mother’s final requests. It’s rather more simplistic: being handed two letters, one addressed to their long-lost father, and the other to their long-lost brother. Let’s revisit the Academy Award-nominated movie…
What Is Incendies About?
Shot against the soundtrack of the creepy, muffled lyrics of Radiohead’s “You and Whose Army?,” the film kicks into play in an unspecified location in the Middle East as a group of young boys have their heads aggressively shaved by armed militia. It is in Montreal, Canada where the narrative unloading commences, where siblings Jeanne and Simon Marwan are sat down across from the empathetic gaze of the notary, Jean Azabal (Remy Girard), who reads them the will of their recently departed mother (Nawal).
Handed two pre-written letters, the pair are instructed to locate their brother and father, with the former’s existence an alarming revelation to the brother and sister. As Jeanne and Simon carry out their mother’s dying wishes, they inadvertently undertake a journey of self-discovery, and Nawal’s hidden and horrific experiences begin to unravel, revealing to the children how their very actuality came into being.
1+1 = 1: Picking up the Pieces of Their Mother’s Fragmented Existence
Following their mother’s untimely death, Jeanne and Simon are tasked with the seemingly impossible; track down their estranged father, and lost brother in a country fracturedby civil war. With the crumbs of their mother’s previous life scattered and blown across a war-torn province, the brother and sister duo are required to piece together this alien life she had left behind. In this ultimate act of both self and parental discovery, we play party to a close-to-the-bone intimacy which almost feels like an extended episode of the BBC docuseriesWho Do You Think You Are?
As their fingers begin to trace along the Braille of their mother’s ultra-complex past, they relive, recount, and reimagine the excruciating steps taken by their birth giver some 40 years prior. As new, increasingly shocking revelations reveal themselves to Jeanne and Simon, through several flashbacks we learn of Narwel Marwan’s tortuous ordeals.
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At the beginning of Villeneuve’s screenplay, Narwel’s children make multiple insinuations about their mother’s aloof, absent-mindedness, as well as her deficiencies as a mother, with Simon even branding her a “F**king crazy b*tch.” Although we as an audience never receive the full extent of Narwel’s inadequacies as a guardian, the implicit nature of her children’s scathing comments is appreciable. Yet, they end the film with such a deeper, human understanding of her.
For the most part,Incendieshas us second-guessing what exactly Narwel Marwan is trying to achieve by getting her children to embark on this scavenging mission; aside from it partially resembling a story of revenge, it also has the semblance of a maternal attempt at redemption. By sending her son and daughter traipsing through her dirty laundry to retrieve that once treasured, but now lost item which pieces everything together, they walk a mile in her shoes, as she is raped, beaten, battered, and abused; providing an almost first-hand explanation and apology for her insufficiencies as a parent. It’s a literal, convoluted request for forgiveness.
Unconventional Revenge
Incendiesisn’t aquintessential revenge flick, nor does it primarily revolve around retribution. However, in an indirectly elaborate way, this is partly a tale of Nawal Marwan’s calculated plot to exact revenge on her rapist, abuser, and interrogator while she was imprisoned during the civil war.
Related:Explained: The Murky Gray Ethics of Revenge Thrillers
Taking a leaffrom Park Chan-wook’s 2003 thrillerOldboy,revenge is a dish best served both cold and by infiltrating the psyche of the abuser. This leads to self-disgust, self-hatred, and this slowly dawning realizations that the process of introspection provokes. Like inOldboy,it is the employment of blood ties that are used to strike tormentors at their very hearts. Family is one’s biggest strength, but simultaneously one’s most pregnable of vulnerabilities.
The Message of Incendies
Despite Villeneuve’s flick feeling a tad far-fetched, and arguably improbable,Incendiesis a magnificently crafted piece of filmmaking. It is a movie that is poignant and traumatic in equal quantity; the fact that depictions of children hop-scotching through charred debris while being shot at by other sniper-wielding children aren’t the most harrowing imagery in the film is testament to the nature of Villeneuve’s storytelling ability.
Lubna Azabal’s wide-eyed display as the still-singing, still-standing Narwel is extraordinary, and one that probably warranted more recognition. She is the needle which sews this tapestry together and announces the somehow simultaneously disturbing and comforting themes, that we live on with what we leave our children and our loved ones; sometimes, that just happens to be trauma, death, and pain. As notary Jean Lebel says in one of the most powerful pieces of dialogue in the picture. “Death is never the end of the story. It always leaves tracks." Nonetheless, there’s still some hope that, even after we’re gone, we’ll be forgiven for what we’ve done.
