Cannes

The Quiet Room

 (Australian-Italian)

By DAVID STRATTON

A Domenico Procacci presentation of a Vertigo (Adelaide)/Fandango (Rome) production, in association with Smile Prods. (Rome), Marvel Movies, SBS Independent and South Australian Film Corp. (International sales: Intra Films, Rome.) Produced by Procacci, Rolf de Heer. Co-producers, Giuseppe Pedersoli, Sharon Jackson, Fiona Paterson. Directed, written by Rolf de Heer.
 
Mother - Celine O'Leary
Father - Paul Blackwell
Child Aged 7 - Chloe Ferguson
Child Aged 3 - Phoebe Ferguson
 

Rolf de Heer's audacious new film takes the viewer into the mind of a 7-year-old girl whose parents are separating. On the surface it might seem like a simple concept , but de Heer's acute insights into a child's mentality and speech patterns, his bold visual design and the quite amazing performance of Chloe Ferguson as his young protagonist, will rivet audiences willing to take a chance on this rigorous, uncompromising film. Parents should be profoundly moved, and pic's provocative nature could propel "The Quiet Room" into niche market success after an undoubted trip around the festival circuit this summer. In advance of its unspooling in competition at Cannes, pic world-preemed as part of a newly established film section in Adelaide's Festival of Arts.

This is an interior pic in more ways than one. Most of the action takes place in two rooms, the brightly painted bedroom of an unnamed 7 -year-old girl (Ferguson) and the bedroom of her parents next door. In addition, the entire film is seen from the child's perspective; the viewer is given no information other than that available to her (though adults will, of course, interpret what she sees and hears differently from the way she does).

In this sense, the film can be seen as the third part of a kind of unofficial trilogy that began in 1993 with de Heer's Venice prize-winner "Bad Boy Bubby" and continued last year with "Epsilon," an as-yet unreleased Miramaxpickup. All three films are told from the viewpoint of an innocent, a totally naive character through whose puzzled eyes the outside world seems a strange and threatening place: the long-incarcerated man in "Bubby," the woman alien in "Epsilon" and now the child in "The Quiet Room." (Incidentally, major changes have been made to "Epsilon" since its no-press market screening in Cannes last May, with the new version not yet ready for viewing.)

For almost the entire length of "The Quiet Room," the little girl refuses to speak; she's withdrawn into a world of silence because of the increasing tensions between her beloved mother (Celine O'Leary) and father (Paul Blackwell).

She fondly remembers the time, a few years ago, when the family was happily united and she was allowed to share her parents' bed. In these flashbacks, the child is played by Chloe Ferguson's younger sister Phoebe.

When her parents talk to her, the girl remains silent, but her thoughts answer voiceover. It is an effective device in allowing the viewer to enter the girl's world. She longs to leave the city and live in the country where, she has been told, she can have the dog for which she yearns. For now, she has to put up with goldfish, who regularly die, triggering in her thoughts of death and loss. But most of all, she longs for her mother and father to stop their quarreling and return to the way things were.

The drawings she spends so much time creating vividly reflect her hopes and fears, but the adults are unable to read the messages she's sending them. She plays with Barbie dolls, experiments with an ordinary supermarket egg she hopes will hatch into a baby chick, and lies in bed at night afraid of the panthers that might come to get her.

And all the time she ponders why adults fail to understand her, why they don't share her imagination, why -- in her view -- they behave like children. For her, things are quite simple. When her father sits her down to talk about separating from her mother, he begins by saying, "This isn't easy," and the child, in her mind, responds, "Yes it is -- just don't say it."

Chloe Ferguson gives an exceptional performance. Quite often she's called upon only to gaze at the camera while her voice reflects her inner feelings, and her expressive face speaks volumes. The child captures every nuance with uncanny precision and effortlessly dominates the film, appearing in virtually every frame.

As the parents, O'Leary and Blackwell make generous contributions. No other major characters are given much screen time; a teenage babysitter appears briefly, as does a team of carpet-cleaners and, toward the end, a woman from a real estate agency, but the girl's lack of knowledge about these marginal characters restricts our information as well.

All technical credits are highly professional, with cinematographer Tony Clark giving the film a bold, bright look. Pic's visual design effectively conveys the child's perspective; in particular, the expressive use of color reflects the young protagonist's viewpoint. De Heer's skill in entering this child's world so single-mindedly is astonishing. Few films about children have been as honest and dedicated as this one.

Camera (Atlab color), Tony Clark; editor, Tania Nehme; music, Graham Tardif; production design, Fiona Paterson; art direction/costumes, Beverley Freeman; sound (Dolby SR), Peter D. Smith; assistant director, David Lightfoot; casting, Audine Leith. Reviewed at REP screening room, Sydney, March 14, 1996. (In Adelaide Festival of Arts; also in Cannes Film Festival -- competing.) Running time: 91 min.