Thomas Salvador’s first feature Vincent was a true sleeper surprise when it debuted in San Sebastián in 2014 with its deceptively modest tale of a self-effacing man who attains superpowers when in contact with water. The director-writer-actor brings the same level of unpretentious storytelling wedded to an even greater feel for nature in The Mountain, a long-awaited film of elegant simplicity in which an alpinist (played by Salvador) gives up city life and remains in the mountains where he makes a startling discovery of understated magic. Carefully paced, especially in the first half when the emphasis is on the grandeur of the Upper Savoy peaks around Chamonix/Mont Blanc, The Mountain gradually takes on a beguiling twist in which the supernatural feels completely natural. Winner of France’s Writers’ Guild prize for best Francophone film in the Quinzaine, Salvador’s mesmerizing sophomore feature confirms his distinctive vision and will captivate audiences with its quiet charms.
Both Vincent and The Mountain revolve around a man who becomes a heightened version of himself through nature, but where the former could be read as a parable in which difference becomes a threat to power, Salvador’s latest is about a quest for fulfillment away from the madding crowd, and as such is very much a film for this COVID era. Engineer Pierre (played by the director with his customary low-key naturalness) journeys from Paris to a conference in an Alpine resort where he demonstrates robotic technology. Once there, he’s irresistibly drawn to the snow-covered slopes so calls in sick to spend time amidst the grandeur of glaciers quickly diminishing from global warming.
A stunning long shot of a cable car ascending the mountain and penetrating the clouds before reaching the top signals Pierre’s entry into a quasi-magical realm separated from the world below and yet remaining distinctly elemental and earthbound. He’s largely self-sufficient in his pup tent with all the necessary survival gear, camping out on the glacier for explorations of the majestic crags, undeterred by fierce winds and the unpredictability of sudden rockslides (in certain locations Salvador had to reduce his crew to just one other person to minimize the dangers). At the sole restaurant on the mountain he looks for someone to mail a postcard to his mother and there meets the chef Léa (Louise Bourgoin), a grounded, autonomous figure intrigued by his gentle modesty. Though neither acts on the impulse, a connection is made.
That postcard brings his mother (Martine Chevallier) and brothers Marc (Laurent Poitrenaux) and Julien (Andranic Manet) up the mountain to the restaurant, where Marc berates him for ditching his work life: “You’re really losing it. It’s blindingly obvious” he spits out, but Pierre’s newfound inner peace isn’t shaken and he receives his mother’s support even if she doesn’t fully understand. Earlier he camped within sight of others, but now he’s wandering further along the glacier, noting changes and fractures resulting from climate change that are making the mountain unstable. Then as the light fades one evening he discerns unusual red glows moving under the rocks and ice within the fissures, and he sets out to explore.
There was no hint the film was moving in this direction, and the shift is entrancing as Pierre discovers glowing amorphous organisms – Salvador prefers not to call them creatures, rejecting all the negative attributes that word embodies – with which he attempts to commune. Much of The Mountain is without dialogue though one barely notices given the rich imagery and the director’s skill at conveying what’s necessary without the need for exposition. The shift into fantasy is so subtle and the effects are so wondrous that the film’s earlier realism never feels broken, and while the environmentalist message is unmistakable, it’s seamlessly interwoven with Pierre’s need for fulfillment off the grid.
By showing a growing bond between Pierre and Léa, the script also ensures he’s not seen as an antisocial kook, and their hesitant flirtation, combined with her instinctive trust, adds significant emotional depth to the story. This remains a pull even when the film’s visual beauties take over, as we marvel at scenes of red glows dotting the isolated glacier and then Pierre’s literal transformation after coming in contact with the organisms. The special effects by Jérôme Krowicki and Barthélémy Robino are, remarkably, realized without digital intervention, and Salvador and d.o.p. Alexis Kavyrchine make exceptional use of light, including an exquisite shot of Pierre slowly floating down ice that looks like pure alabaster. It’s a form of visual wizardry that looks to become Salvador’s calling card, putting him firmly on the path of directors to closely follow.
Director: Thomas Salvador
Screenplay: Thomas Salvador, Naïla Guiguet
Cast: Thomas Salvador, Louise Bourgoin, Martine Chevallier, Laurent Poitrenaux, Andranic Manet, Adam Pouilhe, Sylvain Frendo, Catherine Lefroid, Lucie Vadot, Alexandre Marchesseau, Hassan Jouhari
Producer: Julie Salvador
Cinematography: Alexis Kavyrchine
Costume designer: Dorothée Guiraud
Editing: Mathilde Muyard
Music: Chloé Thevenin
Sound: Yolande Decarsin, Benoit Hillebrant, Olivier Dô Hùu
Special effects: Jérôme Krowicki, Barthélémy Robino
Production companies: Christmas in July, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes Cinéma
World sales: Le Pacte
Venue: Cannes (Quinzaine des Réalisateurs)
In French, English
115 minutes
