Without reading Denis Johnson’s novel one still suspects that Claire Denis’ Stars at Noon sticks closer to the source material than previous adaptations such as The Intruder or even Let the Sunshine In. That’s not to say the film isn’t Denis’ through-and-through: her treatment of the Central American setting bears certain resemblances to her works shot in parts of Africa such as White Material, where outsiders who think they know more than they do have their senses both heightened and enervated by the heat. No one captures that sense of thick humidity like she does, suspending her characters in a sweaty grasp that goes together with an overall atmosphere of entrapment. In Stars at Noon her themes are more straightforward than in some previous films and yet her storytelling remains always in the moment, capturing vulnerabilities and the need for connection in intensely acute ways that’s propelled by psychology as much as outside forces. Considerably more accessible than her previous English-language film High Life, Denis’ latest is solid art house fare with charismatic leads and should easily find distribution worldwide.
Margaret Qualley (Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood) is ideally cast as Trish Johnson, an American whose adventurous spirit brought her down to Nicaragua (shooting was done in Panama) as a journalist meant to write puff pieces for luxury travel magazines. Instead she became interested in covering corruption, developing a hardened, cynical shell to survive in a country of uncertain alliances, and if that means giving her body to Subteniente Veraguas (Nick Romano) for info and a modicum of protection, then so be it. Denis’ understanding of this character and her environment is the film’s greatest draw, from the way Trish is willing to compromise herself for hard-to-get items like shampoo or air conditioning to her half-informed understanding of what’s happening in a country she’s partly grown accustomed to but doesn’t really have an affinity for. She’s a classic American in a so-called developing nation, believing she can play the system thanks to a few well-placed connections and a passing familiarity with the locale, but she’s running out of funds and she’s burned her bridges with her outlets (John C. Reilly has a Skype cameo as a fed-up editor).
As an escape from her run-down motel she goes to that haven for foreigners, the Intercontinental Hotel, with its air of protection and readily available amenities. At the bar she picks up Daniel DeHaven (Joe Alwyn), the kind of blond Englishman with a single malt voice who wears cream-colored suits in the topics because that’s what one does. Trish is at her flintiest here, officiously sending back her martini because it’s too wet and camouflaging her neediness with an overheated cynicism: when asked why she’s in Nicaragua, she replies “I wanted to know the exact dimensions of Hell.” She needs dollars to get out of the country and she’s wanting the luxuries of a high-class hotel room so she tells Daniel she’ll sleep with him for $50.
He says he works for an oil company but when she finds a gun in his toiletries case she knows there’s something else going on; she also notices that the man (Danny Ramirez) he’s meeting after their rendezvous is a Costa Rican cop, not some business associate. With her press card revoked and passport confiscated by Veraguas thanks to an article she wrote on the government’s involvement in extrajudicial kidnappings, she’s running out of options to leave and hopes Daniel might be the ticket, but she realizes more is at play here when her main protector, a Vice Minister (Stephan Proaño), makes clear that her association with the Englishman has created problems with the Ministry of Defense.
Trish could cut herself off from Daniel but their connection has become stronger than she realized – an interlude where the two dance in an empty bar is lovingly captured by Eric Gautier’s sympathetic camera, exposing the warm abandon of their intimacy as well as their need for each other at this moment. They both need to get out of the country, and though a poorly disguised CIA officer (Beny Safdie, spot-on) offers to help Trish if she gives Daniel up, she’s not prepared to betray this mystery man in her life.
Daniel’s exact mission remains opaque though all we really need to understand is that the people he works for (MI5?) don’t want the Americans to be the region’s sole Big Brother. Given that this is a Denis film, that’s already quite a lot, and while Daniel’s good looks and casually charming demeanor make him an agreeable character, the studied reticence of a professional spook means he reveals far less than Trish, whose American-bred elevated sense of self keeps hitting a brick wall. Hers is by far the more interesting figure thanks to a flinty public exterior that crumbles in private when she realizes people see through the false confidence she developed while playing the tough sexy white woman card – she knows just enough to understand some of the local politics but not enough to figure it all out, which is dangerous. Qualley has a certain flatness to her delivery that works well for the character’s age and nationality, and she’s excellent at the subtle shifts that reveal her vulnerability.
Atmosphere plays an equally important role, which of course is something Denis excels at, and Gautier’s camera (he also shot the very different Avec amour et acharnement / Fire) is trained to encompass the significance of each location, from Trish’s humid and dingy motel room to the streamlined first world comforts of the Intercontinental. Setting is also a major determinant of character, especially in a film about an unthinkingly neocolonialist twosome from the industrialized north who think they can influence the course of events, and as always Denis ensures that flawed personalities are made sympathetic and believable. Her frequent collaborator Stuart A. Staples of tindersticks contributes a light jazzy score whose repeated rhythms tie it all together.
Director: Claire Denis
Screenplay: Claire Denis, Léa Mysius, Andrew Litvack, based on the novel by Denis Johnson
Cast: Margaret Qualley, Joe Alwyn, Beny Safdie, Danny Ramirez, Nick Romano, Stephan Proaño, Monica Bartholomew, Carlos Bennett, Sebastián Donoso, Hector Moreno, John C. Reilly
Producers: Olivier Delbosc
Executive producers: Christine De Jekel, Olivier Gauriat, Pituka Ortega Heilbron, Marcela Heilbron
Cinematography: Eric Gautier
Production designer: Arnaud De Moléron
Costume designer: Judy Shrewsbury
Editing: Guy Lecorne
Music: tindersticks
Sound: Jean-Paul Mugel, Thomas Desjonquères, Nathalie Vidal
Production companies: Curiosa Films (France), Arte France Cinéma (France)
World sales: Wild Bunch International
Venue: Cannes (competition)
In English, Spanish
135 minutes