"The Eight Day" is really one of a kind! It doesn't reinvent the wheel when it comes to teach us about life's simple beauty and beautiful simplicity but there's something in the way it's done that is just too weirdly daring to ignore. Sure the film sins sometimes by sentimentality, but there's more to enjoy in that atypical and powerful journey from Belgian director Jaco Van Dormael.
It starts with a young man named George (Pascal Duquenne), he has Down syndrome and the film opens with a voice-over narration that leaves no doubt about it. It's a succession of little poetic vignettes, echoing the chapters from the genesis no religion here, each day is about some beautiful bit of randomness created by God, and I had no problem accepting that George was the eight day's creation. The film even confronts the offensive slur "Mongoloid" to its own origin and we see, from George's vision, the Mongols as a civilization of horsemen and conquerors, nothing to belittle.
And George, as his own destiny's conqueror, decides one day to go looking for his mom. He lives in an institution where he's got friends, even a love interest who dances ballet and people who treat him nicely, but he still puts on his 'Sunday dress', takes his luggage and leaves. It's easy to get over-analytical and talk about existential impulses but this is a film where I think the right angle of discussion is never "Why?" but "Why not?" The Down syndrome is integral to that approach, not to mention its emotional impact.
Indeed, here's a disease where we expect a certain pattern of behavior, many of them to be 'embarrassing', but we're not in George's mind and we can never really tell whether it's a manifestation of the syndrome or his colorful personality. So we start to look at his behavior under a different scope as the handicap is never played as a 'gimmick'. George knows his "difference", and each effort he makes to fit in the world inevitably crashes into its reality. There's a heartbreaking moment involving a waitress, where we feel his devastation without blaming her reaction.
That's the power of "The Eighth Day", it transcends the limits of the handicap but never at the expenses of common sense by sugarcoating it. And it accomplishes this feat by showing that there's something in the core of that syndrome that can inspire people: goodness, attention, simplicity and a little bit of madness. It's tricky to make such a point without being condescending or patronizing, but this is where George's co-lead, plays his part. We have to see another man who can benefit from George's presence.
This man is Harry, perfectly sane, mentally and physically. Played by Daniel Auteuil, Harry's a motivational speaker for young executives to be, working for some corporate nightmare named Future Bank, all in gray walls and black ties and suits. When we first see Harry, he's caught in the same weekly routine, regurgitating every day the same rhapsody: how to smile, to be convincing, self-confident. Everyone's drinking his words but we don't two reasons: a/ this 90's speeches have become a cliché by now and b/ it's so repetitive we suspect Harry doesn't even believe his own crap.
In a way, Harry is also entrapped in a series of patterns that deprive his life from a substantial meaning. In reality, he's divorced, he can't see his children and it's very fitting that he meets George at a moment where he was teasing death. The man was at the verge of a breakdown and it's George who tries to help him looking at the bright (or at least simple) side of life. This sounds like the premise of "Rain Man" with Tom Cruise being replaced by a mix of Michael Douglas' "Gordon Gekko" and D-Fens but George is no Raymond Babbit, his intelligence is different.
I can say it's from the heart but it wouldn't be true because George suffers a lot on that level. The tragedy of George is that he's never got not even a parcel of love back while he's got so much to give, the only member of his family who can take care of him, dismisses him because she feels she has the right to live her life. That was a scene of raw intensity and honesty because once again, we can't blame the rejection, and it's pivotal moment that cements the friendship between George and Harry.
"The Eight Day" becomes a poignant and funny buddy road movie where you can feel the bond growing between the two men. A young man with visions of Latin French singer Luis Mariano popping out of nowhere and a corporate victim with no visions whatsoever. How can that friendship be possible? As viewers, we're confronted to that question as well. There's a moment where George goes all berserk in a shoe store, I guess I would have bought whatever he needed so he can shut up, but boy, would have I loved to experience one minute of silence lying silently on the grass. Sometimes, the film does take you places.
Of course, there's another side of the coin the story cleverly dodges. Anyone going through Harry's phase would immediately lose his job. Sure, you got all the time to admire a ladybug, still, that won't but I don't think it will make you much a happy person in the long term. We should all go a little mad sometimes, but brief madness would be more befitting. Maybe the film goes deliberately over-the-top with its own material (some situations are unbelievable and unrealistic, some "normal" characters act in a very weird way) to warn that after all, this is all just a fable.
But this fable has some heart, truth and greatness about it and the chemistry between pals Pascal Duquenne and Daniel Auteuil, both winners of the Cannes Festival's Prize, really make the film!
It starts with a young man named George (Pascal Duquenne), he has Down syndrome and the film opens with a voice-over narration that leaves no doubt about it. It's a succession of little poetic vignettes, echoing the chapters from the genesis no religion here, each day is about some beautiful bit of randomness created by God, and I had no problem accepting that George was the eight day's creation. The film even confronts the offensive slur "Mongoloid" to its own origin and we see, from George's vision, the Mongols as a civilization of horsemen and conquerors, nothing to belittle.
And George, as his own destiny's conqueror, decides one day to go looking for his mom. He lives in an institution where he's got friends, even a love interest who dances ballet and people who treat him nicely, but he still puts on his 'Sunday dress', takes his luggage and leaves. It's easy to get over-analytical and talk about existential impulses but this is a film where I think the right angle of discussion is never "Why?" but "Why not?" The Down syndrome is integral to that approach, not to mention its emotional impact.
Indeed, here's a disease where we expect a certain pattern of behavior, many of them to be 'embarrassing', but we're not in George's mind and we can never really tell whether it's a manifestation of the syndrome or his colorful personality. So we start to look at his behavior under a different scope as the handicap is never played as a 'gimmick'. George knows his "difference", and each effort he makes to fit in the world inevitably crashes into its reality. There's a heartbreaking moment involving a waitress, where we feel his devastation without blaming her reaction.
That's the power of "The Eighth Day", it transcends the limits of the handicap but never at the expenses of common sense by sugarcoating it. And it accomplishes this feat by showing that there's something in the core of that syndrome that can inspire people: goodness, attention, simplicity and a little bit of madness. It's tricky to make such a point without being condescending or patronizing, but this is where George's co-lead, plays his part. We have to see another man who can benefit from George's presence.
This man is Harry, perfectly sane, mentally and physically. Played by Daniel Auteuil, Harry's a motivational speaker for young executives to be, working for some corporate nightmare named Future Bank, all in gray walls and black ties and suits. When we first see Harry, he's caught in the same weekly routine, regurgitating every day the same rhapsody: how to smile, to be convincing, self-confident. Everyone's drinking his words but we don't two reasons: a/ this 90's speeches have become a cliché by now and b/ it's so repetitive we suspect Harry doesn't even believe his own crap.
In a way, Harry is also entrapped in a series of patterns that deprive his life from a substantial meaning. In reality, he's divorced, he can't see his children and it's very fitting that he meets George at a moment where he was teasing death. The man was at the verge of a breakdown and it's George who tries to help him looking at the bright (or at least simple) side of life. This sounds like the premise of "Rain Man" with Tom Cruise being replaced by a mix of Michael Douglas' "Gordon Gekko" and D-Fens but George is no Raymond Babbit, his intelligence is different.
I can say it's from the heart but it wouldn't be true because George suffers a lot on that level. The tragedy of George is that he's never got not even a parcel of love back while he's got so much to give, the only member of his family who can take care of him, dismisses him because she feels she has the right to live her life. That was a scene of raw intensity and honesty because once again, we can't blame the rejection, and it's pivotal moment that cements the friendship between George and Harry.
"The Eight Day" becomes a poignant and funny buddy road movie where you can feel the bond growing between the two men. A young man with visions of Latin French singer Luis Mariano popping out of nowhere and a corporate victim with no visions whatsoever. How can that friendship be possible? As viewers, we're confronted to that question as well. There's a moment where George goes all berserk in a shoe store, I guess I would have bought whatever he needed so he can shut up, but boy, would have I loved to experience one minute of silence lying silently on the grass. Sometimes, the film does take you places.
Of course, there's another side of the coin the story cleverly dodges. Anyone going through Harry's phase would immediately lose his job. Sure, you got all the time to admire a ladybug, still, that won't but I don't think it will make you much a happy person in the long term. We should all go a little mad sometimes, but brief madness would be more befitting. Maybe the film goes deliberately over-the-top with its own material (some situations are unbelievable and unrealistic, some "normal" characters act in a very weird way) to warn that after all, this is all just a fable.
But this fable has some heart, truth and greatness about it and the chemistry between pals Pascal Duquenne and Daniel Auteuil, both winners of the Cannes Festival's Prize, really make the film!