THUNDER (Foudre) Review: The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Sensual Awakening
Thunder – the feature debut of a Swiss writer and director Carmen Jaquier, who previously directed shorts and was a part of an omnibus film Wonderland in 2015 - premiered last year at Toronto International Film Festival and has recently become the official Switzerland’s bid to the 2023 Oscars. Despite the fact that the action here takes place at the edge of the 19th and 20th centuries, Jaquier’s film is incredibly relevant (not to mention – a stunning piece of cinematography), offering a powerful meditation on the paths of self-discovery in a hostile world.
In the summer of 1900, a young novitiate Elisabeth (Lilith Grasmug, one of the film’s treasures) on the verge of taking her vows, is delivered the news of her sister Innocente’s sudden death. Elisabeth is then forced to return home to help her family – to a remote village in the Alps. The homeland meets her with beautiful plains and mountain landscapes, but also with the smothering oppression. Innocente and her death seem to be a forbidden topic, as the villagers claim she was corrupred by Satan, and the pastor bans Elisabeth from even praying for her. The heroine is persistent though and ends up finding Innocente’s secret diary where what we strongly suspected gets vocalized – she was a young woman who experienced sexual awakening, both physically and spiritually, which she believed was a sign of God’s love. Fascinated by Innocente’s thoughts and misunderstood by the village’s general population, Elizabeth finds companionship with the three young men who knew her sister, and sets on her own path to truly discovering herself.
During the first minutes of Thunder, there is a vivid sequence when Elisabeth, having collapsed upon hearing the news of her sister’s demise, is being literally passed around by the myriads of hands. This shot is reiterated with different connotations several times throughout the film, thus, introducing one of the central themes that makes Jaquier’s film so poignant – the general tendency of stripping women of their agency in a traditional society. The movie dives deeper though, exploring the stigmatization of a female body, as well as the contradictions between strict religious dogmas and individual faith rooted in the idea that such human expressions as sensuality and desire are a God’s gift rather than something that requires punishment. The juxtaposition is further emphasized by way of the stunning cinematography by Marine Atlan, which contrasts the mesmerizing views of the landscapes, nature that seems to have a life of its own and young protagonist’s bodies and faces, with the stifling and oppressing worldview of their parents.
This ethereal, dreamlike feel invokes memories from a whole range of classic works – such as Terrence Malick’s A Hidden Life (half of Malick’s filmography could be referenced here, really), Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides, Jane Campion’s The Piano and Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock where a group of young women seemed to have dissolved straight into the chilled, misty air. The most obvious parallel from popular culture based on pure formalities (a novitiate heroine, overall setting) also surprisingly works, despite all the vast differences – the hills are indeed alive here, and yes, the music (i.e., the score by Nicolas Rabaeus) has a lot to do with it too. This film is gentle in its most explicit scenes (of which there are a few) – and gentleness seems to the primary emotion the authors operate on and strive to celebrate. Thunder manages to be both quiet and yet speak volumes, as it definitely goes beyond depicting the female experience and speaks up for all the people deprived of human connection.
Thunder opens in New York City next Wednesday, October 25th, followed by a nationwide rollout.
