Director: Valérie Donzelli
Writers: Valérie Donzelli, Gilles Marchand
Stars: Bastien Bouillon, Virginie Ledoyen, André Marcon
Synopsis: A photographer at the peak of his career abandons his success to pursue writing, facing financial hardship and personal struggles as he chases his true passion.
Society doesn’t allow us to pursue our dreams. Very few individuals will get their “dream job” or the career they’ve always wanted. Many of us will eventually give up our pursuits when they are nowhere near financially viable, because one has to make ends meet, and will relent to capitalist society’s structures. This structure treats human beings as mindless numbers who are simple cogs in the machine that can easily be disposed of “respectfully and thoughtfully” via cold emails while the higher-ups continue to fill their pockets over the backs of the hardest-working employees.
It’s a frustrating situation that many of us live in – this critic is born to do this endeavor, but it doesn’t pay the bills. How long can one keep going when there’s little light at the end of a tunnel, especially considering the proliferation of AI now replacing manual labor, and the industry currently moving away from traditional critics in favor of content creators? Not that there’s anything against a new mode of media – one has to adapt – but what happens when this is no longer a viable source of income? What happens when one has to work paycheck-to-paycheck and give up what they think is what they’re meant to do in this world? This is what writer Paul Marquet (Bastien Bouillon) is wrestling with in Valérie Donzelli’s At Work, one of the most underappreciated films of last year’s Venice Film Festival.
Based on the book of the same name by Franck Courtès, Donzelli draws an emotive character study of a forty-something–year-old photographer who gave up a successful career to pursue his true passion, writing, which, of course, doesn’t pay the bills. In an attempt to get by, he turns to the gig economy, and applies for a Gigwalk-esque task app where he is severely underpaid to perform complex and (very) long odd jobs. One wonders why he would ever do this, but, as he clearly states to the hiring agencies he visits, Paul needs time for himself to write. One line, in particular, is a real corker: “I do not work in the morning. In the morning, I write.” If only life were ever that easy.
At first, it’s kind of ridiculous to see Paul go through what he’s doing, because it all feels completely unnecessary. He’s a successful enough photographer to at least be able to make time to write, while balancing out his professional endeavors, right? Why is he suddenly giving it all up inside an economy that barely pays anyone, even if the work they have to do is ridiculous? It baffles the mind, but we slowly begin to understand why that is as the film progresses.
Donzelli thoughtfully peers into Paul’s tormented psyche through Bastien Boulion’s almost wordless performance. He mostly narrates what he sees, and Donzelli frequently shifts perspective from the story’s objective viewpoint (shot digitally) to his own eyes observing a world in perpetual motion as he sits still, unsure where to move (shot on 16mm). Vertovian juxtapositions are thus created, including a final montage so enlightening that it reveals a different way of seeing our society that the human eye simply can’t illustrate. Each line of dialogue Bouillon delivers as Paul is painful to watch, because we understand how vulnerable he is at any given moment.
His family decided to move to Montreal for a better, more prosperous life, while he stays in a dingy basement to write a book that could be successful, according to his agent Alice (Virginie Ledoyen), but will likely be read by only a few avid fans. He wants to put pen to paper so urgently that simply getting by feels enough to satisfy him. But when he meets a close friend he hasn’t seen for a while, something clicks within him. Is this all there is? Is this life truly worth it? What am I doing wasting it, while others are experiencing fruitful careers?
His sullen face represents a life full of regret, but also a real desire for the passion to write – and nothing else. Nothing brings him more fulfillment than rolling a cigarette and staring at his computer as he types his perception of the world. A real emotional proximity forms between the audience and Paul as Donzelli floats between the objective and the subjective, blurring the two perspectives when intercutting between his gaze and what he’s looking at. It’s an emotionally riveting and scathing account of a society in no hurry to let people live full lives and spend their limited time on this Earth doing what they love.
That’s why the relationship with his wife and kids feels particularly devastating, even if underdeveloped. The secondary characters are probably At Work’s biggest drawback, because Donzelli mostly focuses on Paul’s plight, while ignoring the people around him. This makes their appearances feel strange, because they don’t register as well-rounded, three-dimensional characters the same way Paul does. There’s also a surreal detour late in the movie that took me out of left field, but the way Donzelli links it to Paul’s conception of humanity near the end was interesting enough for me to ignore how bizarre it felt at first.
But one can’t entirely (or easily) dismiss what Donzelli is saying about the perils of the gig economy and the current bleak portrait of today’s “culture of work.” It’s a reflection on our contemporary society that’s infinitely more interesting than the numerous hyped Oscar-bait movies being touted as “major contenders,” because it invites real introspection as audiences begin to realize what matters most in this life. I still don’t know what to think of my life after watching At Work, but the one certainty I have is that it’s better to be poor and honest than rich and dishonest…
