The opening moments are intense and immediately gripping, setting the stage
for a different kind of film than what we ultimately get. Binoche plays Rebecca
Thomas, regarded as one of the five best war photographers on the planet; and
we're introduced to her fearlessness right from the beginning. Embedded deep
within a sect of Muslim women in Afghanistan, one of whom is preparing to
commit a suicide bombing, and right away we can see that Rebecca is both terrified
and electrified by her proximity to the story. In fact, it's her attempt to
score one final photo that triggers the bomber's early detonation, with Rebecca
injured and barely escaping death.
It's then that we expect Poppe to explore the nature of crisis photography
itself and how being a neutral observer to horrific acts can change a person.
And what, if any, is the responsibility of that person when something terrible
is happening right in front of them? Does the job always come first? Like
soldiers who find it impossible to go back to civilian life, do those who
operate in similar situations face the same kinds of problems acclimating in
society? Poppe introduces a number of intriguing ideas but then pushes them
aside to cover a fairly bland story of Rebecca's home life. Her husband (Game
of Thrones' Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and two daughters have grown accustomed to
Rebecca being away, but this latest brush with death has him spooked. He wants
her to stay home from now on where it's safe; maybe take a job closer to home.
She agrees and tries to make a go of it, but it isn't long before the pull of
the latest hot zone (not to mention persistent editors) has her reevaluating
the decision. While one would expect Poppe to bring a sense of nuance to such a
personal issue, he instead opts for increasingly overbearing and contrived
interactions that blunt the story's impact. Rebecca's daughter conveniently
gets a school project on Africa just as a supposedly-safe assignment there pops
up. Of course it doesn't turn out to be so safe, but it gives the daughter a
chance to see her mother's dangerous fearlessness up close and personal. The
children keep scrapbooks full of belated birthday cards and distant letters. We
get it; mom hasn't been around much. These scenes wouldn't be so bad if they
felt like they were coming from a place of honesty, but they are a little too
pointed for that.
The biggest issue is that Poppe simply doesn't take advantage of a wealth of
potential avenues to be covered. In particular, he's trying to say something
about the way gender influences how we perceive careers such as this. For a
guy, he's expected to trot out there in the middle of danger and it's just part
of the job. But for a woman, a mother no less, she's seen as abandoning her family.
So many ideas are left unfulfilled that little momentum can be mustered up
except when Rebecca is off on assignment. It's to be expected that Poppe would
pay extra attention to detail during these scenes, and the cinematography is
gorgeous; thoughtful even. Despite a screenplay that lets her down for the most
part, Binoche is wonderful as Rebecca, a woman divided by her passion for the
job and maternal instincts. She's an adrenaline addict but it's more than that;
she wants her photographs to affect real change. She's obsessed with the idea
of it. And perhaps the point Poppe is trying to make is that people like
Rebecca should be left to do their altruistic work and not be distracted by
familial responsibilities. It's an intriguing thought, one that would have made
for a more challenging, thought-provoking film if given the proper
attention.
Rating: 3 out of 5
