The film, directed by Anne Fontaine (“Coco After Chanel”), examines the tough decisions made by Polish nuns who have been attacked by Russian soldiers.
It’s difficult to find new accounts about the horrors of World War II. “The Innocents,” which is fundamentally a thesis on religion, is one of those wonderful rarities, made all the more bracing by the fact that it is written from the perspective of a female character.
This fascinating and subtle drama, set in Warsaw in December 1945, revolves around a French Red Cross doctor who discreetly aids a convent of Benedictine nuns who have been brutally raped by Russian soldiers in their own home. In the middle of her job aiding wounded French soldiers, Mathilde (Lou de Laâge, “Breathe”) is interrupted by a heartbroken nun who walks into the improvised Red Cross infirmary.
Afflictions that are pressing are on the horizon. Mathilde instructs the nun to seek assistance from medical professionals from her own Poland, as her mission is to care for her ailing French countrymen. When Mathilde comes across the nun kneeling and praying in the cold woods, she decides to lend a hand. Her life is forever altered as a result of that event.
With her latest film, “Adore,” director Anne Fontaine (“Coco Before Chanel”) crafts a profoundly moving and emotionally nuanced meditation on faith in the face of a catastrophic struggle. This produces a rich, evocative, and engaging drama that may be included in the mix when the nominations for foreign language Academy Awards are announced.
The cinematography, by Caroline Champetier (“Holy Motors”), is bleakly beautiful, with the drama unfolding in a muted palette of black, white, taupe, and grey as the camera pans across the frame. Even the sound design is noteworthy: as the distraught nun makes her way to the French infirmary in need of help, we hear the sound of her feet crunching against the densely packed snow beneath her feet. A brilliant director, Fontaine is equally concerned with resonant details as she is with the greater image.
What is seen in that photograph is a convent of nuns who have been scarred by sexual abuse. And the consequences of this abuse are even more immediate: seven nuns are pregnant as a result of the assault.
In addition to Agata Buzek’s performance as Sister Maria, Agata Kulesza (“Ida”) portrays the Abbess, whose commands govern the convent. The cast is flawless, with standout performances by both Agata Buzek and Agata Kulesza (“Ida”) as Sister Maria. In her own words, the Abbess describes their predicament: “First the Germans persecuted us, and then the Russians arrived.” They smashed their way into the convent. It was a horror that could not be described. Only God will be able to assist us in overcoming it.”
A combined effort between Fontaine and Sabrina B. Karine as well as Alice Vial and Pascal Bonitzer results in a screenplay that is pitch perfect. A symphonic impact is achieved, as opposed to certain American productions where a large number of authors modifying the script might detract from the overall impression. The collective writing efforts, based on an original concept by Philippe Maynial, accomplish this effect.
Mathilde, an unapologetically atheist, takes significant risks in order to assist the nuns and attempts to contradict their devotion with scientific evidence. (“God’s help will not be sufficient,” she informs them.) She offers to send a Polish midwife, but the nuns are adamant that their health-care problems not be divulged to the public at large. “If you do that, our convent will be closed down,” the Abbess informs her of the consequences. “If we are evicted, our daughters will become public embarrassments.”
The ladies who have been violated are afraid of eternal damnation. The majority of people are too embarrassed to have a physical examination. When Mathilde inquires as to whether the nuns can put God aside in order for her to examine them, the Abbess responds simply: “You don’t put God away.”
The dialogue is excellent, being both powerful and modest at the same time, and it contributes to the emotional sincerity of the performers. Over time, the French doctor becomes more and more entangled in the lives of the bereaved Polish nuns and their families. And when Mathilde herself narrowly escapes a horrific assault, she finds quiet solace in the rituals of the nuns’ cloistered world, which she shares with her sister.
They are constantly shattered by the realities of their war-torn existence, though, and those serene moments are quickly forgotten. While the nuns are chanting their pious songs, the harsh voices of Russian soldiers interrupt the peaceful atmosphere. They are persuaded that the nuns are “covering up for political adversaries of the people.” They want to search the monastery for valuables. Mathilde’s quick thinking prevents a catastrophe.
The nuns’ spirits are virtually crushed by their continuing shame and guilt, which threatens to annihilate their religious beliefs. According to one nun, “No matter how much I pray, I am unable to find any solace.” Every day is a re-enactment of what happened. “I can still smell the stench of them in my nostrils.” It is clear that they are ill-equipped to raise children in their convent, and it is necessary to find relatives to care for them. The events that follow are really distressing.
Fontaine effectively communicates the inner turmoil of the religious women, but she does so with moderation, both aesthetically and audibly. An explanation for faith that has been shattered is haunting: The feeling of safety is similar to that of an infant gripping his or her father’s hand, explains Sister Maria. “Eventually — and I believe this is always the case — your father must relinquish control. You’re all alone in the dark, and you’re lost. No one responds to your cries for help. Even if you plan ahead of time, you will be taken off guard. That one hits you right in the chest.” Mathilde, on the other hand, is experiencing her own crisis of faith as she battles for recognition in a male-dominated industry.
“The Innocents” flirts with melodrama at times, but the film’s dark atmosphere and artistic direction keep it under control. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it takes place more than 70 years ago, this heartbreaking movie, with its fascinating story of wartime injustices and violence against women, still feels relevant today.