52 Films by Women Vol 9. 35. L’Aventura (Director: Sophie Letourneur)
Of all the 450 or so films I have covered in this series over the past eleven
years, L’Aventura, written (with Laetitia Goffi) and directed by
Sophie Letourneur, has the lowest stakes. In it, a young French mother, Sophie
(Letourneur) takes her two children, ten-year-old Claudine (Bérénice Vernet)
and three-year-old Raoul (Esteban Melero) and her older partner, Jean-Fi (Philippe
Katerine) on holiday to Sardinia, where they drive around the island, staying in
various accommodations. Nothing particularly consequential happens for the entire
movie’s length (1 hour and 40 minutes), though at one point Jean-Fi complains
about Sophie re-packing the family’s luggage, and in one scene, can’t find his
wallet, which is in another pair of trousers. Yet, because of the way it is
edited, with sequences shown out of order, the film forces you to think about
your own summer vacations, how you remember – or not – the minor irritations accumulated
in the pursuit of relaxation. Sophie and her family eat, drink, swim, poop, bounce
on inflatables and rest, with Sophie sharing minding duties with Jean-Fi. The
film is relentlessly averse to drama of most kinds, though at one point, Sophie
and Claudine sit outside and won’t re-enter their room. The film asks: what do
we achieve when we holiday in the sun?
Letourneur’s approach is to present the holiday in a dull, though
naturalistic, way, showing, for example, the mixing of two soft drinks. The
family do not meet any interesting characters, though when they consider
driving to another resort, their host lists all the reasons why going to other
places on the island will disappoint them and informs them that he still has a
room available. It is possible to observe shooting stars from the island, but
Jean-Fi complains that he never sees them. Letourneur points her camera at the
night sky. No shooting stars are visible. There are recurring tropes: Sophie
buying Raoul a piece of 30-cent candy, stored on a high shelf, after he pesters
her; Claudine creating an audio record of the trip; Raoul pooping on the beach
(at one point, he treads in it); Sophie berating Jean-Fi for not minding Raoul.
The family swim in the sea, Raoul with water wings. They allow for spontaneous
changes of plan. Sophie describes a variety of pizza that she enjoyed on one
night, didn’t like on another occasion, but wanted to have later on when she
had chosen a pasta dish. One host warns the family to expect the smell of
defecation.
In various scenes, Claudine describes where they have been. They had a
good meal at the place with the ball pond. Raoul wants to return there. In one
accommodation, Raoul stretches over Jean-Fi’s bed. ‘Where do I sleep?’ Jean-Fi
asks the child in a friendly manner, hoping to coax rather than force him to switch
beds. Letourneur only includes conversations that refer to the trip itself, so
we hear nothing of the family’s life outside of Sardinia. We don’t know what
either adult does for a living, who their friends are, what concerns they have
about the world. All directors make purposeful editorial decisions. Letourneur’s
seem particularly narrow, focussing on the mundane.
Pictured: Sophie (Sophie Letourneur) inflates a water wing but not the audience's expectations in a scene from her film, 'L'Aventura', about a French family's holiday to Sardinia. Still courtesy of Unifrance/ Arizona Distribution
This is the point. The family holiday is filled with suppressed emotions and choices that don’t yield reward. What constitutes a good day? We don’t find out. For the most part, the family keep moving in the unspoken expectation that the next place will yield a particular pleasure.
There is a recurrent musical motif: Johann Sebastian Bach’s ‘Prelude No 1
in C Major’. It is played in a variety of versions at various points, the most
exhilarating of which is during a long tracking shot of Jean-Fi walking along
the beach front past a collection of shops and cafes. The wordlessness of the
sequence and its steady movement, until Jean-Fi arrives at a souvenir shop,
gives the film’s its singular moment of cinematic pleasure, a respite from the family
and inconsequential chatter. We aren’t surprised that Jean-Fi doesn’t take the
train back to Paris with Sophie, Claudine and Raoul, driving back alone instead.
You imagine him wanting some time off, not available when the children are
around. Sophie is met at the station by the children’s grandmother.
Pictured: Had a holiday. Need a break. Jean-Fi (Philippe Katerine) in a scene from director Sophie Letourneur's film, 'L'Aventura', in which a French family vacation in Sardinia. Still courtesy of Unifrance/Arizona Distribution.
L’Aventura is the sequel
to Letourneur’s 2023 travel movie, Voyages en Italie, in which she
also co-starred opposite Katerine, the latter better known as a musician. That
film focused only on the couple. Here, Letourneur conveys a commendable lack of
affectation. She isn’t interested in what the viewer thinks of her; she doesn’t
try to impress. The title – with its nod to Michelangelo Antonioni’a 1960s
film, is ironic. Adventures are characterised by risk and reward, not by menu
choices. Presenting events out of sequence gives the audience a false dawn when
the family are on the train together heading to Paris. We welcome the film
coming to an end. But Letourneur cuts back to the family in Sardinia, as they
are about to take the ferry. She crushes our expectation of relief. It’s like
someone presenting a set of holiday snaps to which you respond politely, but
then adding, ‘I have some more.’
As much as I didn’t enjoy watching L’Aventura, I could see
the point of it, to interrogate the nature of ‘family time’ as bottomless
compromise. There is a slight tension. Claudine is Sophie’s child from a
different relationship; she is asked whether she misses her father. The kinship
between Claudine and Sophie – having a longer ‘history’ than Sophie and Jean-Fi
– makes sense. Jean-Fi’s behaviour is that of a man who is, as stepfathers go,
on probation. He doesn’t favour his son more, rather maintains a mostly genial
presence for the benefit of both children. For her part, Claudine doesn’t try
to be a mother to Raoul; she pays more attention to her phone and her
documentary.
Watching such a low-stakes drama also invites the question, why is
high-stakes drama our preferred form of entertainment? How much more could we
learn by being immersed in the ordinary, understanding what lies behind
micro-engagements? If we spend the majority of our lives in the realm of
deferred gratification and compromise, it is worth thinking about the effect? What
sort of people do we become? Should we recalibrate ourselves?
Reviewed at Cambridge Film Festival, UK (Cambridge Picturehouse Screen Two), Monday 27 October 2025, 18:25 screening
Comments
Post a Comment