SibylIn Freudian psychoanalytic theory, the psyche is broken up into three entities: the "id", the "ego", and the "superego"; they don't always play well together. The result is that we often present a "version" of ourselves to the world that is not honest with our inner desires. We show ourselves to others as we wish to be seen...but not who we may truly be. Sibyl is a French psychodrama and melodrama about a psychologist--named Sibyl (Virginie Efira)--who steps away from caring for many of her patients to write a book. She, however, does take on a new client: an actress named Margot Vasilis (Adèle Exarchopoulos) who is facing an emotional breakdown. Why Sibyl chooses to involve herself with this new client speaks to her own repressed demons and insecurities.
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There is a certain challenge in telling a story with an unscrupulous and self-serving protagonist, as Sibyl is quickly revealed to be. I had to double check the date when Sibyl was released, as my first thought was that such a protagonist reminded me of the main character from Todd Field's Tár. (Sibyl predates this movie by three years, however.) Sibyl is a successful psychotherapist, who is clearly doing well enough to have her own practice in Paris, a handsome live-in boyfriend named Étienne (Paul Hamy), and the luxury of taking a partial hiatus from her clients to pursue writing. But Sibyl's motivations are in question from the start, such as when a disgruntled client accuses her of using his therapy sessions for her own professional gain. This proves to be likely true, as this is exactly what Sibyl does to Margot, writing her "fiction" with content achingly close to Margot's reality. All the while, Sibyl maintains a detached appearance, which comes across as both condescending and phony. Meanwhile, flashbacks from her past emerge without preamble, and it takes a while before it becomes clear that this is, in fact, what they are. And in many of them, we learn that Sibyl is a recovering alcoholic, and that she had at least one child with another man named Gabriel (Niels Schneider), during her wilder and unrestrained days. There are also some interludes where her sister, Édith (Laure Calamy), chastises her for adopting a superior attitude, although they must have since made up, as Sibyl attempts to comfort her later following a nightmare about their alcoholic mother's fatal car accident. Periodically, there are scenes where Sibyl sees another client--a young boy named Daniel (Adrien Bellemare)--with whom she plays Monopoly, and they limit their psychoanalysis to a single question each session. As these scenes progress, the tightly-wound Sibyl becomes more and more disheveled. Yet once it becomes clear that Sibyl is struck by the possibility of playing therapist to a movie star, she slowly ingratiates herself into Margot's world--intentional or otherwise--despite the repeated warnings by her own therapist, quizzically named "Dr. Katz" (Arthur Harari), like the cartoon therapist. Before long, Sibyl is on the set of Margot's movie, playing mediator between the starlet, her lover, Igor (Gaspard Ulliel), and the film's director (and Igor's girlfriend), Mikaela "Mika" Sanders (Sandra Hüller). Sibyl has, whether by way of well-intentioned advice or through sly manipulations, made herself an inexorable part of this group of celebrities; is she even aware of her unethical way of placing herself in this role? Does she really even care?
I often find enjoyment from films that are, for the most part, a character study of a complex individual like Sibyl, who is torn between the desire to overcome her alcoholic past, but is in turn is consumed by an overwhelming need to control others and exploit them for personal gain under the guise of "helping" them. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the plot in this film is melodramatic to the point of being cliché. This especially includes Sibyl's alcoholism, but also by way of her expected turn at using Margot's pain to further her own career. What saves Sibyl from being a tired slog, however, happens to be the raw strength of the performances by Virginie Efira, as well as by Exarchopolous and Calamy. Seriously, for a film whose story feels largely uninspired, the caliber of these actors' efforts uplifts the viewing experience exponentially. Scenes that would feel like tired filler take on a new life solely on this basis. For example, when Margot comes to see Sibyl and informs her of the affair and her pregnancy, the pain of such a serious dilemma is evident on the face of Exarchopolous in so many ways that it's impossible not to sympathize with her, not to mention the way that Efira's Sibyl processes this information. And even in a supporting role, Calamy brings a depth of emotion to her scenes; she would go on to star in the magnificent film, Full Time, which capitalizes on her talents even more. (Truly, it is worth mentioning that there seems to be a renaissance of excellent French actresses in movies right now.) I don't often find myself drawn to a movie based on the performances of actors first, but Sibyl survives because of it. Efira is tasked with giving complexity to a character that is otherwise only complex because the story demands it--a character who feels like a tired caricature of the head shrink who violates the tenets of client/patient agreements readily found in so many cheap melodramas. There are, however, rare moments of genuine emotion here that help to dispel this sensation, like at the end of the film when Sibyl has an important conversation with her child about the absence of her father. Regrettably, much of the film seems more concerned with being beautiful rather than deep, like when Sibyl comes to see Margot on location for a film shoot on the volcanic island of Stromboli, or some of the many erotic scenes with Sibyl that, while impassioned, still feel predictable in a French film like this. Ultimately, Sibyl--like its protagonist--is torn between two identities and between two audiences who will find enjoyment in watching it for different reasons. There is the audience who will probably be satisfied with a gorgeously shot melodrama filled with gorgeous people doing gorgeous things, and there are those (like myself) who will see past the superficial side of the film and recognize some dedicated efforts made by the film's talent, and appreciate the craftsmanship to be found here.
Recommended for: Fans of a pretty movie, albeit one burdened by a shallow plot that nevertheless manages to redeem itself on the merits of its talented stars. Sibyl may lack genuine complexity--masking its absence with convoluted and confusing editing--but there is something to be gained from an appreciation of the performances in the film all the same.
I often find enjoyment from films that are, for the most part, a character study of a complex individual like Sibyl, who is torn between the desire to overcome her alcoholic past, but is in turn is consumed by an overwhelming need to control others and exploit them for personal gain under the guise of "helping" them. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the plot in this film is melodramatic to the point of being cliché. This especially includes Sibyl's alcoholism, but also by way of her expected turn at using Margot's pain to further her own career. What saves Sibyl from being a tired slog, however, happens to be the raw strength of the performances by Virginie Efira, as well as by Exarchopolous and Calamy. Seriously, for a film whose story feels largely uninspired, the caliber of these actors' efforts uplifts the viewing experience exponentially. Scenes that would feel like tired filler take on a new life solely on this basis. For example, when Margot comes to see Sibyl and informs her of the affair and her pregnancy, the pain of such a serious dilemma is evident on the face of Exarchopolous in so many ways that it's impossible not to sympathize with her, not to mention the way that Efira's Sibyl processes this information. And even in a supporting role, Calamy brings a depth of emotion to her scenes; she would go on to star in the magnificent film, Full Time, which capitalizes on her talents even more. (Truly, it is worth mentioning that there seems to be a renaissance of excellent French actresses in movies right now.) I don't often find myself drawn to a movie based on the performances of actors first, but Sibyl survives because of it. Efira is tasked with giving complexity to a character that is otherwise only complex because the story demands it--a character who feels like a tired caricature of the head shrink who violates the tenets of client/patient agreements readily found in so many cheap melodramas. There are, however, rare moments of genuine emotion here that help to dispel this sensation, like at the end of the film when Sibyl has an important conversation with her child about the absence of her father. Regrettably, much of the film seems more concerned with being beautiful rather than deep, like when Sibyl comes to see Margot on location for a film shoot on the volcanic island of Stromboli, or some of the many erotic scenes with Sibyl that, while impassioned, still feel predictable in a French film like this. Ultimately, Sibyl--like its protagonist--is torn between two identities and between two audiences who will find enjoyment in watching it for different reasons. There is the audience who will probably be satisfied with a gorgeously shot melodrama filled with gorgeous people doing gorgeous things, and there are those (like myself) who will see past the superficial side of the film and recognize some dedicated efforts made by the film's talent, and appreciate the craftsmanship to be found here.
Recommended for: Fans of a pretty movie, albeit one burdened by a shallow plot that nevertheless manages to redeem itself on the merits of its talented stars. Sibyl may lack genuine complexity--masking its absence with convoluted and confusing editing--but there is something to be gained from an appreciation of the performances in the film all the same.