Turning Over an Old Leaf
When it comes to predictability in cinematic storytelling, the revenge variety is perhaps the most stagnant and superficial; the film usually features an afflicted protagonist (or a group of individuals) who has been robbed of something quite precious, leaving him (or her) devastated for quite some time until he musters the conviction (or seizes an opportunity) to take matters into his own hands. As an audience we might not relate to such extreme measures, but our delight from watching a couple of hours of blood gushing out of the screen (because killing is almost inventible) is often tasty despite the tasteless execution. However, in Denis Dercourt’s aptly titled The Page Turner (“La tourneuse de pages” in French) the retribution doesn’t proceed as generally expected, the journey doesn’t dwindle on grotesque executions, and the avenger doesn’t necessarily evoke our sympathy, but the aftermath, regardless, remains permanently destructive.
The star of The Page Turner is a petite and diligently serious Melanie Prouvost (Julie Richalet), the only child of a butcher and his wife, who is seen practicing conscientiously for an audition for tuition-free piano studies. On the big day, a renowned concert pianist Ariane Fouchecourt (Catherine Frot) is on the panel of judges. Melanie proceeds her audition marvelously and perfectly until Ariane stops concentrating on Melanie’s performance to sign an autograph. All distracted and unconfident, Melanie breaks her flawless rhythm, resulting the rest of her performance to become coarse and her acceptance to the school to be rejected. Back home, she puts away her kaput of Beethoven and locks the piano keyboard shut, vowing to her parents that she will never play the piano again.
Forward to several years later, Melanie is now a composed and delicately attractive twentysomething woman (Déborah Francois), arrives for an internship as a file clerk in an impressive Paris law firm lead by famed attorney Jean Fouchecourt (Pascal Greggory). The boss’s secretary tells Melanie her resume stood out because she wrote such a persuasive “letter of motivation.” Melanie is motivated all right: Jean’s wife is Ariane, the same panelist who sabotaged her musical talent and ambition several years ago.
Few months elapse until the loving and hardworking husband and father, Jean, hires Melanie (after she asserts her willingness) as a temporary nanny for his son since his absentminded wife is deeply preparing for an important concert. Smoothly, after Melanie gets settles in the house and acquaints herself with the rest of the family, she slides into the position of the “page turner” for Ariane, the one who sits next to her patron on the bench and turns the leaves of the musical composition. Such partnership requires the two to develop a synchronized rapport, a dependable interpretation of the music. And, of course, we soon become to realize that the more trust is confined the more pain is inflicted after a severe, emotional detachment.
The masterstroke here, however, is that Dercourt rarely treads on obvious conventions and that whatever he and Melanie have in mind is more vicious than what we might have become to anticipate during the most crucial and unnerving scenes. There are many viable opportunities and expected breaks that Melanie could have resorted to execute her revenge, but that would have been uncompromisingly fast on her part, wouldn’t it? Instead, Melanie decides to take the scenic route, slowly culminating her devices one by one, so meticulously and so gently, until she reaches the perfect concerto to let everything loose in a single act.
Yet it is the trip to reach that act that remains exhaustingly thrilling. While reticent and malevolent, Melanie seems to fit with the Ariane and her family more than well. She seemingly enjoys her time living in their sumptuous estate and participating in almost every facet of their life. Thus as spectators, we somehow wish that she would cease her malicious schemes and simply consent to what her heart tells her to follow instead of her head, because we know that she loves and admires Ariane and the latter mutually harbors the same affection. But then again, we would have fallen into our own cynicism, that it is fine to sacrifice one relationship for the sake of another, that it is necessary to terminate one person’s future for the sake of sharing another person’s present.
Perhaps this is what makes Melanie’s plan more devious that we could ever have projected. Indeed, the final piece that brings the whole act together is actually delivered by Ariane herself. Melanie’s vengeful and neat machinery wouldn’t have operated if Ariane concealed her emotions, or at least confessed them in a different way. But no, all Melanie had to do is to use the same distraction that resulted her failure years back and reflect it to the person who failed her. It is an immaculate circle, perhaps too immaculate, but considering how rhythm is the main theme that brought this whole affair in the beginning, it seems it’s necessary to end it this way.
Ultimately, amidst the turmoil that occurs at the end, Dercourt refuses to end his picture in certainty. In the last scene we see Melanie walking away from the destruction that she has inflicted, a smile (or maybe a smirk?) flashes on her face that is just as ambiguous as Mona Lisa’s. Is she really pleased that her plan didn’t share the same flimsy performance as her audition did a decade ago? Or is she more saddened that she had to bring misfortune to the person whom she admires the most, simply to appease her own past misfortunes? The answer is like interpreting a sad melody; we never seem to arrive to a single confluence that is devoid of doubt or shreds of unpleasantness despite its blunt pleasure.
