One of the most prolific and gifted filmmakers working today, Olivier Assayas never fails to surprise (and rarely to impress). His mystical drama Personal Shopper arguably marked the highlight of his varied career: a disturbing and ultimately redemptive character study under the guise of a ghost story. Once again, he changes pace with his 20th feature film (give or take), the gentle dramedy Suspended Time. The title couldn’t be more apt – it’s as if time freezes for two hours, allowing one to delve into existential rumination.
If that sounds about as exciting as watching paint dry, that’s because it is. The thing is, it’s all a matter of perspective. Even the process of paint drying can be fascinating, and Assayas marvels at how enforced isolation makes humanity pause and refocus on things they would normally deem inconsequential. It may not be actual paint drying, but he does observe nature so much, in beautiful static imagery complemented by his narration, that one may claim they are watching leaves grow in real time. Audiences have grown so accustomed to nonstop thrills that the film does feel like a relic of sorts; they don’t make ’em like this anymore.
Assayas’s narration isn’t the only autobiographical aspect here: he’s in every pore of Suspended Time. The central protagonist is an auteur filmmaker who dreams about working with Kristen Stewart. Assayas is in the idyllic French countryside, in every blade of grass. It quickly becomes clear that this is a deeply personal project for the filmmaker, from the loving homages to his place of birth to how he regards society under duress.
Vincent Macaigne in Suspended Time. Courtesy of Music Box Films.
“Confined in a beautiful country house during the peak of COVID-19, two couples…try to make the best out of their quarantine.”
Confined in a beautiful country house during the peak of COVID-19, two couples – Paul (Vincent Macaigne), Morgane (Nine d’Urso), Etienne (Micha Lescot), and Carole (Nora Hamzawi) – try to make the best out of their quarantine. They dine and dance, deliberate and play tennis. Paul is by far the most paranoid (“the virus lasts four hours in a box”), resorting to compulsive internet shopping and copious amounts of sanitizer to get through this global disaster.
Yet Assayas explores both the perils and perks of isolation: it allows one to come to terms with one’s own privilege (or lack thereof), to reconnect with one’s past, with loved ones; unrealized ambitions resurface; the power of art becomes more apparent than ever. At one point, a character muses: “The lockdown spring was one of the most beautiful I can remember.”
Assayas laments how his works of cinema have lost their connection to nature, wondering if cinema will ever capture the minute breaths of trees the way, say, Monet did in his art. He tries to do it here, and whether his intentions are sardonic or not, the cumulative effect is entrancing. Suspended Time is certainly not without its moments of humor, such as an argument over bleach or the volume at which one should play silent films, the fixing of a microphone in place, or a whole mini-subplot involving trash trucks.
A bit rambling, meandering, and some would argue inconsequential, Suspended Time is nevertheless poetic, earnest, and smart. The sheer number of topics Assayas covers so confidently and breezily astounds. Forget about time for a minute and delve right in.
"…poetic, earnest, and smart."
