In war

A militant film, which relies on the means of cinema, shot like an exciting action movie.

In war is a title that goes interpreted in a literal manner, both in terms of the story told by director Stéphane Brizé and in terms of style.

Laurent (Vincent Lindon) and his companions/colleagues are at war against their company which, instead of keeping his word, he made waste of the agreements signed two years earlier by deciding to close the factory where our people work.

And since it is precisely a war against a system that sacrifices human lives on altar of profit Brizé shoots the film as if it were a documentary, a reportage from the front where instead of bombs there is trade union struggle.

Frenzy hand-held camera continuously on the actors the film proceeds in blocks constructed like small scores, thanks to a soundtrack that adapts perfectly to the images, in which the tension continually rises and is always on the verge of exploding.

Brizé with his film plastically demonstrates the difference between demonstrating and showing.<1 >

There are no theses to present to the public, although the director's political position is evident, it is the images, the editing, the music, the work on the spaces, on the bodies of the actors and on the relationships between them that convey the meaning of the film.

In short, the images, if you know how to handle them, speak for themselves.

It's incredible how a film in which there is a lot of talk, largely made up of meetings between workers and between trade unionists and the company, is so compelling.

Whether dealing with occupations, pickets or union meetings, everything in Brizé's work has the rhythm of an exciting action film that continually leaves you breathless .

Thanks, as already mentioned, to how the director shoots the scenes, to the choice of electronic music that underlines the growing tension, to his ability to physically lower the spectator into the scene thanks to his hand-held camera which it moves whirling in increasingly narrow spaces full of bodies and faces.

Thanks also to work on language (we were lucky enough to see the film in the original version) the author manages, with very few strokes, to convey all the psychological complexity of the various protagonists without practically knowing anything or almost nothing about their life beyond the factory.

In war is an extraordinary film. It should be shown to anyone who still wants to make militant cinema so that they learn to use cinema's own means to do so.

And it should be shown in the workplace to remind everyone, workers and delegates, what the activity means and the trade union struggle.

The only problem with this extraordinary work is that it fails to remain so until the end.

Inevitably, when the story is about to end, Brizé seems to lose the thread and the rhythm. Luckily it recovers splendidly with what should have been, in our opinion, the true ending of the film.

A perfect sequence in which Laurent abandons the factory, filmed from behind our hero goes away, all around he is out of focus and there is no voice to greet him.

Once again Brizé manages to convey a concept with the proper means of cinema, managing to perfectly convey the idea of ​​defeat and loneliness that accompanies the main protagonist.

Precisely for this reason the next two sequences, which in total do not take up even a minute, leave us completely dismayed and astounded.

In a few seconds the director manages to send everything to 'air. What it shows (obviously we will not say what it is about) makes no sense, it adds nothing to what has been narrated.

Indeed, what happens not only calls into question what has been seen up to that moment and even the same Laurent's character but leaves room for a faint light of hope in a film which, up to that point, had been able to narrate contemporaneity and the sense of defeat very well.

We would almost be tempted to advise you, if the film resists in theaters, to get up a few seconds before its finale. You will thus be able to say that you have seen a wonderful film.

EMILIANO BAGLIO