The
Blink of an Eye
by Howard Schumann
Though not paralyzed from head to toe like French
fashion magazine editor Jean- Dominique Bauby, many of us
are in the “locked-in” syndrome – locked
into our resentments and our fears, a rigidity that sours
us on life and keep us estranged from family and friends.
Julian Schnabel’s masterful The Diving Bell
and the Butterfly allows us to better appreciate
the simple pleasures in life by dramatizing the debilitating
trauma faced by the 43-year old editor who suffered a massive
stroke leaving him unable to speak or to move his head, and
whose only means of communication was to blink one eye –
one blink for yes, two blinks for no.
Beautifully
shot by cinematographer Janusz Kaminski with a screenplay
by Ronald Harwood, the film begins with Bauby’s confused
awakening in the hospital after twenty days in a coma. We
see only a blur of images and claustrophobic close-ups that
mirror the patient’s mental state. We can make out a
hospital room and doctors and nurses offering reassuring thoughts.
We hear Bauby’s words but the doctors don't know as
we do that, while his body isn’t functioning, his mind
is as sharp as ever. With the help of a speech therapist (Marie-Josée
Croze), and a very patient transcriber, a code is developed
that allows Bauby (Mathieu Amalric), called Jean-Do by his
friends and family, to compose a book based on his experience.
When
the therapist recites the most-frequently used letters in
the French alphabet, Bauby blinks when he wants to choose
a letter. The book, on which the film is based, was published
in 1997, shortly after Bauby’s death. One of the most
dramatic moments in the picture occurs near the beginning,
when the first thought Jean-Do communicates is that he wants
to die. Feeling rejected and angry, the therapist stomps out
of the room but apologizes and comes back shortly to resume
the treatment. We do not actually see Jean-Do until about
a third of the way through the film, but we can hear his thoughts,
which are in turn angry, funny, and bitterly ironic. Bauby
compares his body to a deep-sea diver being suffocated in
a diving suit and his poetic imagination to a butterfly. It
is Jean-Do’s sense of humor that keeps the film as light
as it can be under the circumstances and his eloquence that
keeps us riveted. When we finally do see him with his immobile
body and his drooping lower lip, it is still a shock but we
smile when he says that "I look like I came out of a
vat of formaldehyde."
Much
of the film vividly explores the editor’s imagination,
and the camera takes us on some wild rides that include images
of Nijinsky, Empress Eugénie, Marlon Brando, and Jean-Do
in his imagination skiing and surfing. Some of the most emotional
moments occur when he greets his young children at the beach
for the first time after his stroke, a telephone “conversation”
with his 92-year old father (Max Von Sydow), and flashbacks
to his youth - driving with his girlfriend, shaving his father,
supervising a fashion shoot, and taking his son on a trip
in a new sports car. Bauby’s wife Céline (Emmanuelle
Seigner), whom he left for exotic girlfriend Ines (Agathe
de La Fontaine), visits him in the hospital and comforts him
while Ines cannot bring herself to see him, saying that she
wants to remember him the way he was.
Realizing
how his life had been less than exemplary, his stroke becomes
an opportunity for redemption and allows him, if not to cleanse
his soul, to discover that humanity lies in his consciousness
not in material things or sexuality. The Diving Bell and
the Butterfly is a film of enormous power that shakes
us and enables us to get in touch with the miracle of each
moment. Schnabel says that his purpose in making the film
was to tell “the story of all of us, who surely do face
death and sickness. But if we look, we can find meaning and
beauty here.” There is enough of both meaning and beauty
to make The Diving Bell and the Butterfly one of
the best films of the year.
©2008 Howard Schumann
CineScene