When it comes to tales of forbidden romance in the movies,
audiences tend to expect a certain amount of passion. They want sexy stories
about couples whose desire for one another burns up the screen, so we never
question that they must be together no matter what the cost. But
French-Canadian director Maxime Giroux’s somber
romance “Félix and Meira” takes a rather different
tack. The film, which won Best Canadian Feature at the Toronto International
Film Festival last fall, depicts an affair between a shy, young Hasidic woman
and a wayward, middle-aged agnostic. By its nature, their love is a slow burn,
requiring a certain amount of patience from viewers. Despite its leisurely
pace, the film offers a sensitively drawn tale of love and faith, and the ways
that either can be used to ward off the loneliness in life.
When we’re
introduced to Meira (Israeli actress Hadas Yaron, star of 2012’s “Fill
the Void” — another drama about Orthodox Jewish culture), there’s no question
that she’s unhappy. Stifled under the repressive patriarchal customs of her
religion, she rebels in quiet ways, sneaking birth control pills, listening to
forbidden R&B records, and sketching in her notebook to occupy her time.
She doesn’t fit in with the other wives in her community, having nothing in
common with them aside from the religion they were born into. It’s the woman’s
role to bear their husband many children; that Meira
and her devout husband, Shulem (Luzer Twersky, himself a former member of the Hasidic
community), have only a single child is viewed as failure of her wifely duties.
Meira meets the flirtatious Félix (Martin Dubreuil), and there’s a spark between them, though it
takes some time for her to even speak to him. A loner by nature, he’s felt
particularly adrift following the death of his estranged father. Both are
feeling lost, and their relationship brings a connection and sense of
fulfillment lacking in every other aspect of their lives. As they spend more
time together, she opens up slowly; she realizes undiscovered joys, like
playing ping pong and trying on a pair of jeans for the first time. The
Orthodox custom of women not being allowed to look another man in the eyes
builds to a nice moment where Félix and Meira’s eyes
meet for the first time. As their connection deepens, Meira
becomes tempted to chase after this feeling of gratification, and seriously
considers leaving behind her husband, her community, and perhaps even her
child.
Giroux’s
screenplay (co-written with Alexandre Laferriere) is
distinguished by a deep empathy. The film never condemns the actions of its
characters, and refuses to demonize Shulem, who
clearly loves his wife even as she sometimes bewilders him. Torn between the
love of his wife and his religion, he’s an ultimately tragic figure, a product
of his environment but just as subject to mistakes as his partner. This refusal
to judge lends various shades of complexity to a film that consistently walks
the line. The plot proceeds in a sometimes orchestrated fashion, and there’s an
odd, misguided scene in which Félix disguises himself as a Hassid in order to
infiltrate a service. It’s never clear what Giroux is intending with this sequence,
and the result is less comedic than merely perplexing.
Though
“Félix and Meira” is set in present-day Montreal, for
long stretches it’s easy to forget that you aren’t watching a period romance,
so austere is the setting and aesthetic. Giroux is fond of telling his story
through long, patient takes, and cinematographer Sara Mishara
paints the film in muted tones throughout. There’s an oppressive feel to the
look of the film that mirrors the characters interior states, with dark
(sometimes overly so) frames that use mostly natural light and outdoor scenes
that play out under chilly, overcast winter skies.
“Félix and
Meira” opts for tenderness over outright passion, building to an ending that’s
infused with a quiet melancholy and a bit of a nod to the ambiguous, uncertain
conclusion of “The Graduate.” Mustering the courage to start down a new path
doesn’t necessarily make the next steps any more certain.
This article appears in May 13-19, 2015.
