Rust and Bone
Rated R for strong sexual content, brief graphic nudity, some violence and language. 2 hours.
Publication date: Jan. 18, 2013
Review by Peter Canavese
And so Sam's ne'er-do-well father, Ali (Matthias Schoenaerts), allows himself to be saddled with the boy, prompting a move from Belgium to Antibes in the south of France. There, Ali can again test the kindness of his sister Anna (Corinne Masiero), moving into her humble abode as he seeks his latest odd jobs.
An aspiring kickboxer, Ali begins pulling a legit paycheck as a bouncer at a nightclub, where one night he breaks up a fight involving Stephanie (Marion Cotillard). Immediately upon this chance encounter, it's clear that the two share an animal attraction, if a wary one on Stephanie's part. Soon enough, they begin hooking up, unexclusively.
(If you know nothing about "Rust and Bone," and wish to know no more before seeing it, skip the next paragraph, which deals with a fundamental and unavoidable plot point.)
The already-high stakes of Stephanie's greater emotional investment raise precariously when she undergoes a life-changing trauma at work. In her capacity as a smiling, boogie-ing killer-whale trainer at a marine park, Stephanie loses both legs at the knee. To Ali's credit, his instinctive response to Stephanie's shamed depression is to reach out to her in friendship and tenderness, and their relationship tentatively moves forward. But Ali's never been one to put down roots for long, and it's entirely possible Stephanie is repeating her workplace mistake by letting her guard down around animal instinct.
Loosely based on Craig Davidson's short-story collection of the same name, this French-Belgian production isn't terribly subtle in its theme of "the human animal," but it's a notion we'd do well to ponder, and Audiard ("Read My Lips," "A Prophet") makes a good match for the material. Though the writer-director has shown an affinity for brutish characters, his empathy for them, unsparing eye and patience with a story constitute a distinctly European approach. In America, this sort of drama has unfortunately become passe.
That Schoenaerts ("Black Book") isn't well known on these shores works in the film's favor. By playing the frequently unsympathetic Ali close to the vest, he productively keeps the viewer guessing -- as much as the script does -- whether his default selfishness or his capacity for love will win out where it concerns Stephanie, Anna and Sam.
Cotillard has more overt colors to play, and handles them deftly, as Stephanie must make a choice to keep living in the face of consistently trying physical and emotional challenges. When she makes that choice, her life becomes riskier, but also more full than she had imagined possible.
When all is said and done, "Rust and Bone" has significant blemishes that don't quite come out in the wash. There are the melodramatic turns some viewers won't cotton to, a third act that feels aimless, and an ending that feels like a tacked-on reshoot -- but the picture persists on the strength of its committed performances.