There’s a lot to like here. Les temps qui changent has the frankness that I pretty much expect at this point from Techine films; Sami comes home from France with his girlfriend, and his first stop is off to see his boyfriend. They converse honestly, too, boyfriend Said talking about meeting other guys, one of whom has given him a moto. Cecile is honest, too, in reflecting on the love she shared with Antoine and in telling her husbanc, Natan, that their son is gay. Even Nadia's drug use has a matter-of-fact quality to it. Love and character are all part and parcel of this film, and there's little indirection. I like this quality in Techine films – all the elements of life, including love and sex, are so integrated.
I also like the portrayal of Tangiers here since the film sees the city as an outsider does. Sami sees cars full of Moroccans joking and laughing, Antoine visits work sites wondering why Moroccan workers aren’t acting like European workers, and Techine’s camera itself stops to look at the country and its people without taking us into what’s happening. What were the Moroccans in the car joking about? What is the story behind the sacrifice of the sheep? We see all this from the outside, not fully comprehending the everyday reality of what we’re seeing. It’s an effective representation of expat life from the POV of Antoine, Sami and Cecile. Another element of this portrayal is the view we get of expat life itself. The expat settings have a compelling verisimilitude. Cecile’s home is cluttered and a bit worn, like that of a middle class expat in a foreign country, and Antoine moves through typical international hotel and office interiors. Les temps qui changent has a true sense of expat life, from its physical environment to its psychological experience.
The main focus of the film is the relationship of Antoine and Cecile, and this relationship touches many things I expect to see when I watch a Techine film. It’s honest, and you see Antoine’s old, swollen hands and his stiff movements along with Cecile’s slightly aged face. The mother, Cecile,
is another of Techine’s mothers: the gravitational center of the family, the main organizing point of family life if still somewhat cold and distant. The movement of Cecile’s character here, from her relative coldness to her reawakening into love, echoes the movement of Lili in Le lieu du crime and of Odile in Les egares. All three are mothers, all three have little personal life, all three organize the lives of their sons and all three are rejuvenated as their respective films progress. Small wonder that Catherine Deneuve likes working with Techine so much. He often has a strong, engaging female in his films who grows in insight and life.The two main protagonists also have a rich, Techinean depth that appeals to me. We see Antoine’s slightly inept efforts to win Cecile, ranging from sending roses to considering folk charms. The scene where he tells Natan about his intentions is likewise pitiful. Cecile, too, has a richness about her, whether she’s talking about Antoine to a colleague or managing Sami’s life. We don’t need all this info, but it makes the viewer’s experience of the film much richer and more satisfying.
The central concern of the romance between the two main protagonists is whether a deep, obsessive love can be definitive, and working in the romance genre for this film, Techine tells us that it can be. Other loves in the film reflect this same concern. Sami clearly loves his friend Said, and the feeling is reciprocal, but Sami leaves Said anyway, tearfully begging his friend to come to Paris. We later hear that Sami has other boyfriends in Paris, but we’re left to speculate about whether another love will equal that which he has had with Said. At the end of the film, we also find the deadened Natan suddenly experience a coup de foudre with Aicha, who clearly has a reciprocal experience. We get little background on that affair, but love at first sight doesn’t need background. And as for Nadia, we can only hope that she and Sami manage to avoid getting tied down together; there’s no love there.
I’ve noticed that Techine’s films often have North Africans or people of North African descent in them, and this one, of course, is no exception. At the same time, Les temps returns to one of the concerns of Wild Reeds – what is French identity. Sami feels he doesn’t belong in France or Morocco, and his mother Cecile has lived in Morocco for years, but she doesn’t speak the language yet and has limited horizons because of it. She’s too French to be Moroccan. Perhaps France has long had this identity question as it’s tried to manage its colonies; French identity in an international world was certainly a concern of L'heure d'ete by Olivier Assayas.
No question in my mind that many of the negative feelings toward this movie are related to the ending, and I don’t know what to make of it either. My first response was to smack my forehead and shout with disgust, but I don’t think the director of J'embrasse pas, Ma saison preferee, Wild Reeds and Les voleurs would seriously end a romance with one of the protagonists coming out of a coma to meet the object of his affection. Rather, the film has mucked about in the romance genre throughout, from its casting to its plot, so the ending is a final farewell to romance conventions. Perhaps even an ironic one. Any director has to take risks and make judgments, I guess, and this wasn’t the best choice of an ending. Still, Les temps qui changent hits most of its notes right…way more right than many films.
