In the midst of a lounging session on a Malagasy beach, one of Red Island’s characters opines that, of all the beauty they’ve ever seen in the world, none of it matches up to Madagascar. By the end of Robin Campillo’s completely sublime new film, you’ll agree. This is easily the most gorgeous film of 2023 so far, with natural beauty, vast skies, and a panoply of deep, rich colours making every frame an absolute joy to look at. But it’s not just a pretty face – this is a coming of age story with poignantly moving insights into childhood, innocence, and colonialism, everything working together to create a beguiling triumph.
At least initially, we’re looking at this world through the eyes of 8-year-old Thomas (Charlie Vauselle), the son of mid-ranking officer Robert Lopez (Quim Gutierrez) and his considerably younger wife Colette (Nadia Tereszkiewicz), stationed on a French military base in Madagascar in 1971. With the nation having been granted independence 10 years prior and the military authorities reluctant to expend French lives doing the dirty work of putting down a farmers’ rebellion down south, the base is a less-than-thrilling place, full of men bored with their stations.
It’s a swelteringly hot and mostly pointless assignment, so time moves slowly here, almost going in circles, but Red Island is never dull. In letting us see through Thomas’s eyes, the mundane insecurities of the adults become mysteries to solve as he is exposed to the inevitable particles of death and sex that accompany bored soldiers, not quite understanding them, but finding them both fascinating and disgusting nonetheless. It’s an absorbing perspective, made all the more fun whenever Thomas reads his favourite books, the Fantomette series. We see the adventures of Fantomette (a 12 year old superheroine) as Thomas imagines her, in a sort of shrunken-down comic book world that’s live action but feels, in the best way, a bit stop-motion.
These flourishes are the most obviously stylised moments that Campillo allows himself, otherwise letting the sheer beauty of his shots do the talking. We’ve certainly had more ambitious cinematography this year, be it in terms of fancy camera movements or complex compositions, but no other film has consistently looked as sumptuous as Red Island does. From sunsets to clothing to dusty red tracks to the entirely unique flora and fauna of Madagascar, everything is simply bursting with colour, an intoxicating kaleidoscope that invites you in and ensures that you never want to leave.
Red Island is hardly plot-driven, but there’s no shortage of incident. Slightly drunken parties ache with unspoken importance and crocodiles get purchased as ill-advised pets, while Thomas’s friendship with Suzanne (Cathy Pham), a fellow child resident of the base from a family of French Indochinese origin, is very sweet, all while opening up the doors for Campillo to make his final point. Up until about the three-quarter mark, Red Island might seem like it’s shying away from the colonialism at the heart of its story, hinting at the fact of French imperial brutality – both past and present – only at the peripheries, but he grants the last word to the Malagasy people.
The character of Miangaly (Amely Rakotoarimalala), a local woman working at the base as part of the team that put together the parachute packs, hovers at the sidelines for a lot of the story, but is eventually given the spotlight in a gripping and dreamlike final chapter set amidst a minor triumph for the Malagasy anti-colonialists. It’s hardly a radical piece of political cinema, but it’s still a stirring sequence, everything suddenly breathing a bit easier once there are no white characters sharing the screen. It’s a righteous, then joyous, note to go out on, a sharp yet sweet closer to one of 2023’s most purely pleasurable films.
Jack Blackwell – Film Reviews 