8 rue de l’Humanité by Dany Boon

Abstract

Reviewed by: 8 rue de l’Humanité by Dany Boon Maria G. Traub Boon, Dany, réal. 8 rue de l’Humanité. Int. Dany Boon, François Damiens, Laurence Arné, Yvan Attal. Inver Tax Shelter, 2021. A national lockdown due to the Covid-19 pandemic is causing staggering challenges to routine living in France. In this film, we enter the private lives of people dealing with myriad issues, including separation of spouses, familial disagreements due to changes in work environments, falling in love, medical testing, and the hazards of forgetting to mute or close cameras online while speaking to others. The pandemic is a situation familiar to all of us. Set within a contemporary historical context, the film takes us to a specific cultural setting, an apartment building in Paris. There are several plots running parallel to each other that keep the viewer engaged and the action moving forward. Using film to stimulate lively classroom conversation, one might stage reenactments of specific scenes or mine them in other ways—in one case using the topic of diversity. Tony, the Belgian landlord and building resident, freely and mindlessly berates his absent immigrant concierge, while her husband is standing in front of him to make a delivery. He attempts to walk back his commentary with the remark, “among us immigrants, etc.,” but her husband Diego replies simply, “I am a French citizen, sir.” Tony is reckless again when he casts suspicion on a North African woman who comes and goes from an apartment at odd hours, conjecturing about the possibility that she may be a source of contagion. Nevertheless, the tone of the movie is lighthearted, and it is peppered with burlesque incidents. Surprisingly, Martin, an illustrator for a scientific publication, has worked himself into a frenzy over the dangers of contamination. His use of hand-held thermometers, disinfectant spray, and transparent full-face masks with a respiratory tube attached transform him into a ludicrous figure. Martin’s interpretation of the stereotypical hypochondriac is counterbalanced by Jean-Paul, a renegade biologist who is always seeking guinea pigs to test the vaccine he has concocted. When in desperation he injects himself, we witness his own comedic reaction to his vaccine in his spasmodic jerks and twitches. To avoid inquiries, he pretends to be practicing dance. The film is laden with vignettes, showing how easy it is to live in exaggeration while gently underscoring the need for common sense. Some footage is unnecessary such as time spent by the camera panning Tony in his underpants with full frontal and rear viewing, while nearby his son is participating in an online class. One quick look at him would suffice to make the point. Indoor scenes are punctuated with moments of outdoor encounters. Lockdown security agents stop walkers, requesting identification and permits. Meanwhile, views of empty Parisian streets emphasize the bleakness of the situation. When we learn of the concierge Paola’s death, the full impact of our human vulnerability to an airborne killer brings a sobering moment, and a sense of community takes hold of the residents. The film’s mes sage, in addition to keeping a sense of humor to get us through the tough times, is the need to develop a sense of community with others. [End Page 246] Maria G. Traub Neumann University (PA) Copyright © 2022 American Association of Teachers of French