The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is an exceptional story in and of itself. The way that director Julian Schnabel tells it though takes it to a whole other level that has to be seen in order to understand why he was singled out as one of the best director nominees at the recent Academy Awards ceremony. It takes remarkable confidence and skill to make a movie from told almost exclusively from the point of view of a man that is completely paralyzed save for a single, blinking eye.
Jean-Dominique Bauby (Mathieu Amalric) was the editor of the French edition of Elle magazine. He suffered a terrible and debilitating stroke that left him almost completely paralyzed, the only movement he’s capable of is the blinking of his two eyelids, but an infection results in one his eyes being sewn shut. In the depths of despair, Bauby contemplates ending his life, but from this depression comes a realization that he’s got a story to tell. Using a system of communication where he’s read off every letter by order of frequent usage and blinks the confirmation, he relates an incredible inner journey of self-healing and self-discovery.
Schnabel’s steady hand behind the camera creates an incredibly compelling, single-sided narrative, especially since that side has absolutely no physical or verbal interaction with those around him. The script, which is based on the actual book Bauby wrote in his paralyzed state, augments the hospital scenes with flashbacks to Bauby’s pre-accident life and examinations into his inner thoughts as his mind freely wanders. Schnabel’s choice to show so much of the film from Bauby’s limited field of vision is not the impediment that you might think it is, but rather it magnifies the emotion of the characters around Bauby, from his speech therapists to his estranged wife and children.
Of course Bauby wouldn’t be nearly as sympathetic as he is without the incredible performance of Amalric. I never would have thought that limited physical and verbal interaction would still allow an actor to create a complex and compassionate performance but here is proof that it can be done. And while this is Bauby’s story there were several little performances that I liked as well, like French-Canadian actress Marie-Josée Croze as the doctor that teaches Bauby his complex new form of communication. At his darkest point, Bauby admits to her that he wants to die, only to be shocked out of his self-pity by her reaction of mixed anger and disappointment.
Schnabel also surrounds himself with tremendous technical talent as well, primarily cinematographer Janusz Kaminski, who’s collaborated with Steven Spielberg on every one of his films since Schindler’s List. Kaminski uses bright, soft yellows to highlight instants where Bauby is freed through either his imagination or through the act of writing despite his limited communication. But earlier in Bauby’s new reality the colour pallet is much more flat and a shade darker. The wonderful metaphor of drowning is symbolized with a very old diving suit floating amongst the blacker blues of the deep ocean and the shallow breathing of an ancient air tank. Feelings of isolation and claustrophobia followed later by peace and spiritual fulfillment are accentuated by the slick and smooth editing by Juliette Welfling.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a beautiful film, with a richness of spirit and energy that’s sometimes hard to find in modern cinema. Like Into the Wild, another story about mind and spirit out to defeat convention, the preordained tragic end of the main character, known by the very public facts of their life story, doesn’t diminish the central emotion and moral lesson of the experience. Some stories end, others live on by those that tell them and this movie truly is life.
