More than half-way through Justine Triet’s Anatomy of a Fall, there is a revealing balls-to-the-walls marital spat. It’s premeditated. Early in Sandra (Sandra Hüller) and Samuel’s (Samuel Theis) marriage, their son Daniel (Milo Machado-Graner) went partially blind due to parental neglect. It all went downhill from there. Their guilt is overwhelming but it’s held close to the vest. It doesn’t help that both parents are writers, but only one party actually puts pen to paper. She’s successful, too, while the other atrophies, languishing in his self-inflicted wounds. Words become ugly. Glasses are shattered. Fists are thrown. Cheating’s thrown in the mix. There’s victim blaming. Sacrifices are not made. It’s melodramatic mush.
This scene is a flashback and also a tonal departure from the rest of the film. Sandra is on trial for the murder of Samuel. He fell from the attic of their remote French chalet in the Alps. Blood littered the snow, and Daniel found his body. She was the only other person in the house at the time. One year later, this private coup de grâce is now used against Sandra in court. Their argument was secretly recorded by Samuel, who would send various entanglements like this to his editor as “inspiration” for his next novel rather than writing anything down. Their heated conversation is both dramaturgically absorbing and literally engrossing because the transcription is projected onto a mega-screen, but it’s also too on the nose. The so-called clarity provided by this scene lays on the emotions thick with Triet’s skillful use of actors, editing, and tempo, reminding us that what we are watching is meant to be eaten up. It’s a highly constructed memory. Clocking in at 152 minutes, Anatomy of a Fall presents its audience with endless possibilities, some more seductive than others. But like the jury, we ultimately decide what should be processed and understood. Triet’s film is self-conscious with slick tricks, but not lethal. By the end of the Anatomy of a Fall, it’s obvious where Sandra will land.
Most of Triet’s film is stimulated by the juxtaposition of ambiguity and courtroom warfare rather than melodrama. We know that Sandra and Samuel are somewhat unknowable. The latter for obvious reasons (he’s dead) while the former is in survival mode, holding her cards close throughout the entire film. Despite a good deal of preparation for trial in the first hour of the film with the help of her lawyer Vincent (Swann Arland), the courtroom is where things get messy. Sandra is on trial in France, but she’s German by birth. She and Samuel converse in English at home as a form of compromise, but the trial is obviously in French. Sandra speaks simply throughout most of her courtroom scenes while both the defense and prosecution wax poetically about everything from blood splatters to sapphic affairs. Triet slowly unfolds the follies of translation. Sandra cannot defend or even appropriately express herself if she cannot speak with confidence. She sits reserved on the bench while the French lawyers babble on like film critics (@ Adam Nayman for that one), making the courtroom feel like a game of Mafia with a chic edge. Eventually, Triet cuts the bullshit. Sandra demands to speak in English when defending her son’s disability with emotional clarity. She won’t go down without a fight.
Shifting perspectives constantly surround Sandra. When we first meet her, she’s in the middle of a mild flirtation. During an interview with a student (Camille Rutherford), Sandra drinks wine, laughs, and makes heavy eye contact. She’s playful until Samuel blasts an instrumental version of 50 Cent’s P.I.M.P. off camera. We never see or hear him during this scene, but we later discover that Samuel is intentionally sabotaging Sandra’s interview with blatant misogynistic overtones. This interview occurs the day after their marital comeuppance. Feelings of male anger and resentment cling to Sandra throughout Anatomy of a Fall. During her trial, the red draped Prosecutor (Antoine Reinartz) is beyond brilliant as an antagonist but relentless. He vilifies her cheating and sabotages her character, saying she was a neglectful wife who stole her husband's ideas, but Sandra reacts carefully. Rather than retaliate she clarifies. She’s playing the long game on trial, but her guilt seeps through. One night she wakes Daniel from his slumber and whispers “I'm not that monster, you know. Everything you hear in the trial it's just.. it's twisted. It wasn't like that.” Overwhelmed and unsure, Daniel doesn’t respond. Sandra snaps back to attention after recognizing her son’s rejection.
Hüller as Sandra is magnificent. This was my second acquaintance with the actress who blew my socks off in the weird but brilliant father-daughter romp Toni Erdmann. In Maren Ade’s 2016 film, Hüller plays a bitchy business consultant constantly gritting her teeth. We spend over three hours with her at work, slowly watching her composure falter. In Anatomy of a Fall, Hüller remains just as steely with a similar payout, but we see a wider range of tightly controlled emotions. Her determination is just as palpable as her vulnerability that springs forth when we least expect it, mostly from small facial adjustments and the stuttering of words. Anatomy of a Fall is a portrait of a strong woman under enormous pressure. She defies gender roles with her performance, making her tears towards the end of the film unnecessary.
Sandra’s guilt is not the focus of the film. In fact, it’s on the back burner. She powers through the trail, knowing that many secrets will hurt her son, who sits in silence, listening. Many people online have noted Daniel’s resemblance to Danny Torrence from The Shining. Both characters share a brown mop of hair and a complicated relationship with their parents, but vision is their strongest attribute. Danny sees ghosts while Daniel seeks the truth. His testimony reveals his clairvoyance, but also his surrogacy to the audience. Like Daniel, we sit in a wash of uncertainty throughout the film, only jumping to conclusions when we have enough evidence.
Anatomy of a Fall is a smart psychological thriller that lands on its feet. It’s no Saint Omer, Alice Diop’s masterpiece about a Senegalese woman on trial in France for the murder of her child. Nothing lingers, except perhaps the idea that the French legal system is sexist and theatrical. Performances by Hüller, Reinartz, and Machado-Graner are strong, but their ghosts mostly stay on screen.