Aurore (series)

Well – this is something interesting.  A three-part television series from Director Laetitia Masson streaming on Amazon Prime.  The director’s first film, En Avoir ou Pas, made an impression on me when I saw it theatrically in 1996.  After such a promising debut – which introduced audiences to the then relatively unknown Sandrine Kimberlain – I expected big things from her.  Masson’s follow up, A Vendre – again with Kimberlain – didn’t move me and the one after that starring Kimberlain and Johnny Halliday sounded too ridiculous.  I lost interest in her work but always thought something new from her might grab my attention at some point – so when I found this 2018 title streaming – I didn’t hesitate to watch.  Episode one gives us the story of 10-year-old Aurore whose murder of a young boy in her grim housing estate somewhere in the Camargue is witnessed by the boy’s younger sister Maya. The next two episodes deal with the repercussions of this monstrous act as Aurore and Maya try to get on with their lives 30 years hence.  Its an interesting set up that addresses issues of culpability and redemption.  The adult Aurore is played by the always interesting Elodie Bouchez – who acts her heart out.  Lolita Chammah as the grown-up Maya – looks and acts exactly like Isabelle Huppert – which is no surprise as she’s her real-life daughter.  Aurore’s guilt and shame have rendered her incapable of being loved while Maya’s trauma has left her unable to love.  The audience is hammered hard with this sort of facile symmetry and the show collapses under a mountain of implausibility and clunky writing.  Several characters are developed and then disappear without having added much to the story.  A case in point is Leonard, an African American techno musician living alone, for unexplained reasons, in a cabin in Gap.  We learn that Leonard was Aurore’s English teacher when she was institutionalized in a children’s prison in Marseille and is the only one to ever believe in her.  She’s apparently been saving his cell phone number for 20 years and calls him out of the blue and shows up at his rural retreat unannounced, daughter in tow.  He’s as befuddled as the audience.  Why is the character African American?  Why is he living alone in the middle of nowhere?  And I know the French regard techno music as a valid art form – but what the hell?  Leonard serves to show us that Aurore is not beyond redemption – but the specificities of his character seem random.  Enumerating the show’s shortcomings would take all day.  One of its inanities is the inclusion of Gerard Meylan, the actor most associated with Marseille – as the husband of Aurore’s social worker.  The character serves no purpose but did leave me wondering if there is perhaps some city ordinance stipulating that a show can’t be shot in Marseille unless Meylan is given a role.  Having said that though – I was delighted to see him.  In fact – despite Aurore’s many problems – I must admit that I rather enjoyed it.