The third feature by France’s Bruno Dumont was this ludicrous quasi-horror movie from 2003. It followed 1997’s LIFE OF JESUS, a stunner, and ‘99’s HUMANITY, which (despite rather inexplicably winning the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes) was so-so at best. Subsequent Dumont films include FLANDERS (2006), OUTSIDE SATAN (2011), the Juliet Binoche starrer CAMILLE CLAUDEL 1915 (2013) and LI’L QUINQUIN (2014).
Dumont’s “Note of Intent,” contained on TWENTYNINE PALMS’S DVD release, gives a good accounting of what viewers are in for: “Here, it’s not so much the subject that matters as the air itself, the atmosphere, its hue…the issue here is as much the vacuity of human existence withdrawn into its instincts as the infinite power of the boundless love between two people.” And so on.
Atmosphere is indeed something this film has in abundance, in its near-impressionistic depiction of California’s Joshua Tree desert. It’s there that a Los Angeles hipster (David Wissak) and his French GF (the late Katia Golubeva), playing characters named David and Katia, are location scouting for a proposed photo shoot. This entails lengthy drives down desolate roads, much aimless schlepping around a largely deserted motel, an argument in a restaurant, a nude stroll around a rock formation, lots of excess bickering and just as much aimless sex—which, as in most of Dumont’s films, is performed for real by the actors.
In the midst of all this Katia warns David they have to leave the area, as it’s somehow “dangerous.” At one point they get yelled at by a redneck in a pick-up, showing that the local residents, sparse though they might be, aren’t exactly trustworthy. Shortly thereafter David cripples a dog with his car, which amplifies Katia’s distrust and paranoia, and leads to a violent altercation between them. Things turn downright apocalyptic the following day, when some punks in an SUV rear-end David’s hummer on a desert road, and events take their unnatural course…
The film’s opening scenes have a definite sinister allure, imparting a sense of unearthly stillness and ennui via superbly composed widescreen photography in which the empty portions of the frame are as—if not more—important than the focal points, and music-less sound design that emphasizes quietude (agonizing though TWENTYNINE PALMS is, it’s still best experienced on a big screen, and with a top-flight sound system). But the overall construction, consisting of agonizingly drawn-out, snail paced scenes, grows monotonous before long, especially given the absence of anything resembling a plot.
All of this might be forgivable if it led up to something worthwhile, but the DELIVERANCE-inspired climax and gory coda are ridiculous, and severely compromise Dumont’s painstakingly achieved atmosphere of artful apprehension. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that, in trying to express a sense of inexpressible dread, Dumont erred rather spectacularly.
Another problem is the bad acting by the lead performers. Dumont likes to cast semi-professional actors (most likely because they’re the only ones willing to perform unsimulated sex scenes), which sometimes yields impressive results but, as this film proves, not always!
Vital Statistics
TWENTYNINE PALMS
3B Productions
Director: Bruno Dumont
Producers: Jean Brehat, Rachid Boucherab
Screenplay: Bruno Dumont
Cinematography: Georges Lechaptois
Editing: Dominique Petrot
Cast: Katia Golubeva, David Wissak