Man on the Train (2003)
Starring Jean Rochefort, Johnny Hallyday.
Directed by Patrice Leconte.
Rated R.
Grade: A-
"Revenge is misfortune's justice."
Manesquier (Jean Rochefort) is a retired language teacher living in an ancient house in a small, desolate French town. He never locks the doors; in fact, he's lost the key. He has a long-time mistress whom he never married, and a sister with whom he has a touchy, sporadic relationship. He has eaten lunch at the same place every day for several decades. The gardener comes every week, but each time he comes, Manesquier is frightened by the noises. Days and evenings pass by unnoticed, and now he is in his twilight years, with a dreaded heart valve operation scheduled for the coming weekend. He doesn't want to go.
Milan (Johnny Hallyday) is a jaded, morose career criminal who takes the train to Manesquier's town with his eyes in its solitary bank, which is not very well defended and should be a walk in the park to rob. He has spent his life going from job to job and woman to woman, and though not yet elderly, he too has grown old and now meets just about every remark or request with a roll of the eyes and maybe a curt dismissal. He has never worn slippers. He has no one he can trust.
Patrice Leconte's Man on the Train argues that the two men, such polar opposites in the lives that they have led, suffer from the same ailment: they haven't lived enough of the other's life. Milan and Manesquier, who live together and forge a bond through the course of the movie, are the two halves of a complete person, and it's no coincidence that neither feels fulfilled. Milan tries on slippers, and Manesquier stands up for himself at a restaurant (only to find out that the person he tried to pick a fight with actually likes him), and that's just the beginning.
The movie isn't a story in any meaningful sense. It has a deterministic feel to it, an aura of inevitability; the climax, in particular, involves an unbelievable, very poetic coincidence that can't be taken seriously on a literal level, but it rings true emotionally and does not betray the characters. I can see those who yearn for a strong narrative drive coming out of the film disappointed, but if you know what to expect and what not to look for, there should be no problem. Man on the Train may at times be slow going, but it's completely beguiling as its highly symbolic, deceptively eventful quasi-plot unfolds.
Jean Rochefort's performance made me forget that the recent documentary Lost in La Mancha showed him in very poor form. His most important contribution is that he brings a lovely sense of humor to his character, transcending the loner stereotype and refusing to give us someone to pity. In fact, it is remarkable that though Milan and Manesquier are deliberately designed to be halves of a person, they are themselves compelling, multidimensional human beings. I particularly loved how Hallyday's character warms up to Rochefort without ever changing his gruff demeanor.
The ending is not, as I mentioned, "realistic," but it is improbably, tremendously moving. I can't recall a single other film occasion where a simple smile from one of the protagonist carries such emotional weight. The denoument abandons reality and opts to instead fulfill irrational hope, to give us justice instead of the existential misery to which these characters would really (probably) be doomed. When we see what happens, we really think that yeah, hey, this is what they would have wanted. This is what they deserve.