I went to see Charlotte Rampling in Andrea Pallaoro's 'Hannah', made in 2017, but only just released in the UK. Rampling gives the most astonishing performance of her career. She goes to places that other actors would fear to tread, deep, heart-wrenching, dark emotional hells. And often achieves it with such understated subtlety.
Set in Belgium it opens on a close up of Hannah (Rampling) making strange animal-like squeals and cries. It becomes clear that she is involved in a Stanislavski style acting class, at which she appears to be the oldest member by several decades - having taken an identical course myself when in my 60s, I can swear to its accuracy. We see Hannah travel home in a menacing metro where a couple is having a full-scale argument about their relationship. All the while Hannah appears isolated in her own thoughts. At home she prepares supper and we watch as she places the food on the table and sits in silence with her husband (André Wilms) in their tiny kitchen, with an undercurrent of tension. It transpires that the next day is when her husband is to be imprisoned for a crime that is not clear at this point.
When needs must, Rampling as domestic help.
The wonderful thing about Pallaoro's direction is that nothing is heavily underscored, there are subtle clues leaving the viewer to piece together the story in their own way. Interestingly I think this film has a lot of parallels with Alfonso Cuarón's 'Roma' (2018).
Cleo in her daily drudgery.
Rampling is also a domestic help to a wealthy couple living in a modernist house with a pool, hot and cold running everything and a young son seemingly lacking in human contact, and there is an exquisite moment where the boy, clearly very fond of Hannah, asks her to scratch his head like she used to. He snuggles into her lap and as she runs her finger through his hair while telling him a story, he drifts into sleep.
A moment away from the psychological mayhem.
It was a moment of escape from their respective worlds, evocative of the relationship Cleo has with the children in 'Roma'.
A tender moment from Roma.
This is a film about, transferred guilt, denial, and discovery that the person you have loved, lived with, had children with and cherished has catastrophically shattered your life forever.
The high emotional commitment that Rampling has given to the film is staggering. There is one particular scene where after visiting her husband in prison where she rushes to a lavatory, locks the door, and the dam of internal emotion brakes through in a series of strangulated cries, that she attempts to stifle with her hands, but there is no stopping. It was primeval and one of the most truthful and heart-wrenching scenes I have seen in cinema. This is a slow reveal film, you have to engage and work to be part of the story. It is intelligent, uncompromising cinema at its best, and I salute both Rampling and director Pallaoro for their bravery.
See the trailer here