‘Calvaire’ Digital Review

Originally released in 2004, Fabrice du Welz’ Calvaire is part of the notorious genre movement known as New Wave French Extremity. Alongside other films such as Haute Tension and Frontier(e)s, Calvaire was touted as being a grim and grisly watch. This week the film returns to digital platforms, ready to convert a new generation of audiences to the movement. 

Set in the lead up to both Christmas and New Year, Calvaire follows the journey, and later the ordeal, of club singer Marc Stevens (Laurent Lucas). Travelling across the country towards his next gig, Marc’s van breaks down. In need of help, he encounters a young man called Boris (Jean-Luc Couchard) who takes him to the local innkeeper, Mr. Bartel (Jackie Berroyer). Bartel’s business has seen better days, but Marc is quickly won over by the older man’s attentive demeanour and promises of help. However, events take a dark turn and Marc finds himself victim of some very sadistic games. 

For a film that has a reputation for ‘extremity’, Calvaire feels somewhat tame in comparison to some of its peers. There are still some great instances of horrific imagery, but much of the aggression is implied rather than witnessed. Leaving the filling in of the blanks to the mind and imagination makes for a more potent reaction, but what is on screen itself doesn’t push as hard as its reputation suggests. 

Another reason for this perceived tameness is that du Welz plays around with which character, Marc or Bartel, is the protagonist. Whilst the story begins with Marc, there are plenty of moments where the attention shifts to Bartel as the audience becomes privy to more of his inner workings than genre films typically allow the antagonist. By separating the audience from Marc they do not connect as strongly to him, and so when his ordeal begins, the response isn’t as visceral or emotional. It’s a very interesting spin as the audience is encouraged to empathise with the instrument of Marc’s torment. 

Jean-Luc Couchard plays Bartel beautifully. He shirks tradition and plays with the character’s layers rather than keeping everything one noted. The man is clearly struggling in the wake of his wife’s passing and Couchard manages to draw sympathy from the audience. Whilst they will not agree with his actions, they can at least understand the characters’ aching loneliness. To garner sympathy for the devil is no small feat and although overall Calvaire feels a little muted, there is no denying Couchard’s talents. 

From a technical point, du Welz’ decision to omit music almost entirely works wonders. The vast majority of Calvaire’s runtime is building up to Marc’s torment and the lack of score helps set a wondrous foundation of tension. Du Welz’s imagery helps intensify the uneasy sensations, and an early trip to town during which Marc witnesses a grim encounter with livestock, adequately turns the stomach. The lack of female characters feels wrong and further unsettles the viewer. All build up to a bloody crescendo that, though lacking in formidable potency, demonstrate du Welz’s talent for painting the screen red. Whilst Calvaire lacks some of the malice of its genre mates, there is still plenty of nastiness to experience here. 

In hindsight, Calvaire is perhaps the film to suggest as a gateway into the sometimes depraved arena of New Wave French Extremity. Calvaire represents a fine example of the movement, just on a slightly more muted scale. 

Calvaire is available on Digital Platforms now.