Le party (1990)
(On Cable TV, September 2021) There is a surprisingly strong tradition in Quebec cinema for street philosophers, dispensing surprisingly highbrow wisdom from the gritty urban perspective. It’s probably in this tradition that Le Party is best appreciated, as we have writer-director Pierre Falardeau taking a look at life from the perspective of inmates. There isn’t much of a plot (prisoners greet the annual burlesque/comedy/singing show put together by outside entertainers), but there is a multiplicity of subplots and a string of good performances. It either comes together as a twisted musical, a misogynist drama, an inmate apologia, or a blender mix of whatever the filmmakers had in mind. By squarely taking the prisoner’s perspective, Falardeau brings viewers into a different universe with different values — a universe of rough men, crude language, simmering violence and constant longing for what they can’t have — women, quality alcohol and most of all freedom. Desire is the key to the characters in the film, and the springboard on which the film’s lyrical moments take flight. The price to pay for a revue film with scattered subplot, of course, is that not all works equally well: For instance, there’s an annoying series of scenes with a stuck-up journalist that not only rings false when measured against the rawness of the rest of the dialogue. But underneath its crude appearance, Le Party gives far more to think about than you’d expect.