The Cork International Film Festival is the reason I am writing this blog post today, even though I was only able to attend one screening of one single movie, despite wanting to watch many more.
I do not regret watching the movie I, myself, chose to watch. It was fast paced, engaging, great cinematography and stellar acting from mostly first-time actors. I also love to watch foreign films whenever I can, and it was my first time watching a non-dubbed film in an actual cinema (you can blame Spain for that—very few cinemas actually show the original version of any movie).
There is one thing that bothers me deeply about the film, though.
First of all, I watched Rodeo, a 2022 French film that was good enough to score a showing in Cannes. Described by the Irish Film Festival website as a “fast-paced debut (that) follows teenage Julia … an atypical heroine in search of herself and looking for her own tribe”, the movie throws us straight into a clandestine motorcycle club from the Paris suburbs where illegal tradings of motorcycles take the center stage, along with the main character. Despite the erratic pacing and themes it dealt with, the director found space for scenes of gentleness that allowed the audience to see Julia as more than a tough nut to crack; as more than her circumstances.
Living in worse than terrible conditions, with a family we see very little of apart from some banter with an apparent younger brother that does not seem to care for her much, Julia goes through hell and back in that motorcycle of hers. But then, things start looking up for her. Her caring bond with the wife of the man behind all the schemes going on with the club; her strengthening relationship with one of her “colleagues”; the money she’s carefully saving.
And all of that, all that progress… for nothing. Spoiler alert for anyone reading this with an interest on watching the film: she dies, burned on top of her motorcycle after stealing multiple bikes along with the other members of the gang.
I do not enjoy tragic endings. I enjoy them even less when I feel like they had no reason for happening. I especially loathe when those tragic endings happen to a traumatized character. In the film, the accident is painted as something that simply happens to her; she goes along with it. It is not overtly emotional nor do you even feel the urge to cry, but I was deeply upset by it still. By the time Julia dies in the movie, she has been injured, beaten up, and threatened with being burned to death (nice foreshadowing there). So, obviously, I wanted her to succeed.
No chance.
Tragic endings are, admittedly, not my thing. Not when I’m rooting for these characters. I love Wuthering Heights, but that is because I love to hate Heathcliff and Catherine. The more struggle, the better. I would have hated for Jane Eyre to live miserably all her life; Beth’s death in Little Women is heartbreaking; I still cannot think of Atonement without frowning. Stephen’s death in Hard Times probably bothered me more than it should have; I will not even get into Shakespeare’s works, because I know what to expect when his plays have ‘TRAGEDY’ written in big, bold letters before I get to the first page.
Let’s just say I’m a romantic. Or just hopeful. Jane Eyre, Pride & Prejudice, hell, all the Austen catalogue (even the unfinished Sanditon): those I’ll gladly reread. But going through all that suffering and getting no reward is just… sad. Anticlimactic. Cheap. Like the ending of Rodeo.