Clouds of Sils Maria contains an acting clinic and so much more. French director Olivier Assayas (Summer Hours, Carlos, Irma Vep, Demonlover) takes many chances with his solid, often wondrous, occasionally mystifying material. The viewer needs to do some work here but the rewards are plentiful. His screenplay is straightforward enough but teasingly opaque like the snake-like cloud formations he photographs so well in Sils Maria, a beautiful region in the Swiss Alps. The cloud formation portends bad weather, and it’s symbolism hangs in the rare mountain air with ravening doom.
Juliette Binoche, working primarily in English, has never been better, which ought to be cause enough for celebration. Her Maria Enders, a famous film actress who goes back to her theatrical roots amidst a challenging role decision, will linger in the memory. Yet she is nearly upstaged by a marvelous Kristen Stewart. Watching the two in turn harmonious and at loggerheads is a joy to behold.
Their many invigorating scenes reach a pinnacle when, in one of their rehearsals together, Enders and Valentine (Stewart), her personal assistant, their clashing viewpoints of the play are transcended by an exhilarating blending of fiction and fact. Enders has reluctantly agreed to play the older character of the same play that gave her breakout status when, at 18, she played the opposite main character, an ingenue. Increasingly, lines become blurred between the play’s text and the dynamic of Enders and Valentine’s relationship. As an exclamation point to this interplay, a mystery toward the end of the film takes us from what had been Gallic-flavored Bergman-territory swiftly into Bunuel-land, and just as swiftly, back out again.
Lindsay Lohan-like bad girl JoAnn Ellis (Chloe Grace Moretz) is signed to the new version of the play to portray the younger character, taking with her the perceived baggage of a millennial popcorn-film star. Assayas begins to thrust an additional theme alongside the theme of the older film star who denies she’s aging. Enders, who has done blockbuster films of her own (she complains about not wanting to do another film where she’s hooked into wires) comes to an empathetic yet distanced appreciation of the young film star. Their final scene together provides a bleakly chilling, to-the-bone coda.
Assayas, with his penchant for fade outs just when a scene starts to contain some action, is a master here of the rich, engaging conversation–the longer, the better. Stewart, who,won the French equivalent of The Oscar (The Cesar) for this role is so natural she is scary. And Binoche is simply one of the few genius actors in film. Without her this virtually flawless gem is nearly unimaginable.