This is a typical European film that would hardly be authentically produced in the industrialized American film industry and is unimaginable in the prevailing culture of toxic masculinity. In other words, while "Elle" is crudely categorized as a thriller, it is actually a standard work on questioning female identity. Beneath the surface of a brutal and absurd rape case, it sparkles with irony, criticality, humor, and speculation. Many people, upon hearing the plot of "Elle," naturally associate it with Paul Verhoeven's famous "Basic Instinct," which delves into the gray areas of human nature and psyche through violence and eroticism. At 77, director Paul Verhoeven presents fans with a peculiar work that partly meets expectations yet is pervaded with a twisted sense of strangeness.
"Elle" opens with a scene of rape. After the sudden struggle and turmoil, Isabelle Huppert's character Michele appears amidst the chaos, her expression strange yet full of meaning. The story then takes on a bizarre tranquility, as if nothing had happened. Michele, played by Huppert, is the owner of a video game company. She continues her routine, discussing trivial matters, dealing with her immature son, her boring ex-husband, her hypocritical lover, and her girlfriends. She maintains fantasies about her handsome neighbor and pretends to forget about the rape, but things start to take a peculiar turn.
In many people's expectations, this should be a story about revenge, but Paul Verhoeven's interests do not turn to the commonplace. This adaptation of a French novel merely uses violence and sex as a fuse. It ignites the damp desires in people's hearts and sets off the immensely powerful bomb of life itself. "Elle" received a Palme d'Or nomination not because of a mere suspenseful plot, but because of its exploration of identity, female roles, and female consciousness. It is filled with ironic dialogue, with people bickering at the dinner table, shedding absurd fragments everywhere. People's thoughts and desires are obvious yet hidden, palpable yet concealed, and beyond this, there's the blatant symbolism of a video game boldly representing real life.
"Elle" actually hides several layers of very interesting content. As a daughter, Michele has always struggled to evade the stigma left by her father. Her father was once a notorious serial killer, and when he was arrested, her helpless and confused face was repeatedly exposed in the media until now, she has not been forgotten by others. This identity has harmed her but also given her a strange power. The turmoil and panic of childhood have shaped her personality, and now, she repeatedly masochistically watches news footage of herself, a subtle scrutiny and reflection on her original identity.
If the first layer of identity is exploratory, then the second layer, her search for identity in the adult world, is mediated and symbolized by "sex." Separation from her husband, entanglement with her lover, desire for her neighbor, and even certain same-sex desires with her girlfriends all become avenues for her self-exploration. From a secular perspective, this is just melodramatic private life, but in reality, these are all struggles of self-identification, sometimes affirmed, sometimes overturned, sometimes rejected.
The third layer is the exploration of her own desires. The rape becomes a catalyst, and most ingeniously, her fantasized handsome neighbor turns out to be the hooded rapist.
Her longing and her repulsion twist and merge into a strange unity upon the revelation of the truth, and thereafter, everything evolves into a peculiar game of mutual understanding. Rape, this violence and control against women, is suddenly reversed and diluted. The film sets the protagonist's profession as the owner of a video game company, and those scenes filled with sex and violence in the games become a reflection of her real experiences. Violent monsters and exaggerated violations become a parody and mockery of her life, all of which she personally supervises and creates as illusions. This creates the poetic charm of the film, which is both sinister, ironic, and tragic.
Everything in "Elle" revolves around Michele's female identity. As a mother, her son is weak and incompetent, married to a volatile wife, unwilling to admit that the child she bore is not his own flesh and blood; as a daughter, her mother is marrying a man younger than herself; as a wife, her husband has long gone... In the eyes of the patriarchal view, Michele is destined to be a tragic figure, but in the story of "Elle," everything is quite the opposite. Every male character appears pathetic, each bearing the fate of being discarded, and in the final scene, Michele and her girlfriend walk hand in hand into the distance, a standard feminist reunion ending, casting a near-evil and proud glance at patriarchy.
Initially, it is said that many actresses refused Paul Verhoeven's casting, and only Isabelle Huppert agreed to the director's request. But it must be said that this role, apart from Huppert, seems no one else could carry it. She definitely deserves the director's almost laudatory praise. There is a quality in her expression that combines indifference and sharpness, neurosis and clarity, certainty and confusion. This expression is a manifestation of the common inner turmoil of contemporary people. The so-called brilliance of "Elle" is not just the mastery of the plot, but also a bold portrayal of the desires of contemporary people and the indescribable gray areas of life.
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