In the first scene of Playground, Belgium’s official Oscar entry in the international feature category, Nora (Maya Vanderbeque) and her brother Abel (Günter Duret) are dropped off at school by their dad. It may be an ordinary enough experience for an adult, but it’s a frequently traumatic one for their wards. And so it is for Nora, who is entering first grade. She keeps going back to her father until another adult comes to take her away. The scene and the entire film are shown from her point of view, so the adult’s face goes unseen. We only see the father’s face because he stoops to talk to her.
Once in school, Nora gets picked on by bigger, older kids. Her brother Abel comes to her rescue and through some strange transference becomes the victim of the attack. He had warned Nora to stay away from him. She refused. Now look.
In these early moments, Laura Wandel’s feature debut Playground appears to be some sort of family tale: our genes/surnames-versus-the world. Little by little, that ceases to be the case. To be sure, by setting the film entirely in a school and from Nora’s perspective —there are no scenes showing the siblings at home—it is certainly possible to think of this as an us-vs.-them narrative. Yet as the story progresses, it becomes more an examination of sibling bonds and how these ties between family members change when subjected to external pressure.
Nora attempts to save her brother by bringing in the adults. First, she tries to call in the teaching staff, but they appear too powerless and too convinced of the rough but basically harmless nature of boys. She appeals to Abel. “Stand up for yourself,” she commands him. But like his biblical namesake, he seems doomed and, worse, appears to have accepted his fate at the bottom of whatever hierarchical system is at play. And when, much later in the film, a kid with brown skin and a distinctly non-Western name is on the receiving end of major brutality, Wandel, who doubles as screenwriter, may be encouraging us to think beyond the school playground.
There are other hints as to the social milieu in which Playground takes place. One of Nora’s classmates wants to know why Nora and Abel’s father is free to drop off his kids when he should be working, mischievously asking her if she knows the meaning of “scrounger”. Kids can be cruel, but there’s a lot that is inherited from the world shaped by adults. And as the lone female in her family, Nora, now faced with the diminishing power of the males in her life, sees her own respect for them dwindle. The patriarchy may yet be toppled, but who’s looking out for the masculine figures who have never held any power?
In fact, it would be tempting to think of Playground as more symbolic of the wider world of adults—the original French title translates to “A World”—if the child actors weren’t so great at playing their characters and if Wandel and cinematographer Frederic Noirhomme hadn’t imbued their world with living, breathing urgency. The super-smart decision to tell the story from Nora’s perspective heightens the effectiveness (and discomfort) of the picture. In one heartbreaking sequence shortly after Abel warns Nora off talking to their dad, Wandel’s decision presents a two-pronged source of discomfort: we understand the peril of the ongoing situation, and we feel the guilt of a girl rendered helpless because she has been warned to not say anything.
The situation stretches credulity, especially as it becomes tragic. If it ultimately stays on the right side of believability, it’s because of young Vanderbeque’s sheer skill. Played by a lesser actor (at any age, one imagines), it might be too much to ask the audience to believe in her silence and helplessness, but Vanderbeque is never anything but absolutely convincing. Indeed, the film rests squarely on her shoulders. If she had failed to be Nora at any point, nothing would work. That never happens.
Director/Screenwriter: Laura Wandel
Cast: Maya Vanderbeque, Günter Duret, Karim Leklou, Laura Verlinden
Film Editor: Nicolas Rumpl
Sound: Thomas Grimm-Landsberg
Cinematography: Frédéric Noirhomme
Production Design: Philippe Bertin
Production Company: Dragons Films (Belgium)
In French
Duration: 72 minutes
