Sparks fly when Héloïse (Adèle Haenel, left) poses for a painting by Marianne (Noémie Merlant).
In Portrait of a Lady on Fire, French filmmaker Céline Sciamma gives the Gothic romance a feminist workout. Set in the late 18th century, the story unfolds primarily in an isolated and windswept estate on the coast of Brittany where mystery lurks and forbidden passions churn. Three women reside in the drafty old mansion. But the film begins with the arrival of Marianne (Noémie Merlant), a painter whose remembrance of things past forms the basis of the movie.
Marianne arrives by sea. The choppy waves rock the boat and eventually toss her painter’s canvases into the sea. Before a word has been spoken, we receive instant insight into Marianne’s character when she dives in, fully clothed, to rescue her “work tools.” After climbing the craggy cliffs that stand between the shore and the estate, she is greeted by the servant Sophie (Luàna Bajrami). The next morning, she meets the countess (Valeria Golina), who has hired Marianne to paint her daughter’s portrait. It is only then that Marianne learns the strange stipulations regarding her work. She is to paint only from memory rather than direct observation. The subject, Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), refuses to pose. The countess requests that Marianne pretend to be Héloïse’s daily walking companion and paint her impressions in secret. The canvas is to be a wedding portrait sent to a suitor in Milan, and if he likes it, a match will be made.
Thus begins Marianne’s observation by subterfuge. Gradually, we learn that Héloïse has recently arrived at her family home from the convent. Her recently deceased sister was to have married the Milanese gentleman before falling fatally and mysteriously on those foreboding cliffs. Héloïse shows no interest in serving as her sister’s replacement. She notices Marianne’s attentive looks while they walk on the beach and begins to look back. Eventually, she discovers the painting Marianne has been working on in secret, and rebukes the painter for not rendering an honest likeness and instead catering to the demands of the male gaze. Marianne starts the painting again as the countess goes away and leaves them alone for five days.
During that time, Héloïse poses for Marianne to try to create a portrait that is satisfying to both of them. Gazing at each other, they experience freedom from the demands of the outside world and their looks smolder into desire and romance.
In previous films (Water Lillies, Tomboy, Girlhood), Sciamma revealed herself to be a keen observer of women, particularly in regard to tiny physical actions and unspoken words. (The film received the award for Best Screenplay at Cannes.) The sex, which does not occur until the latter part of the film, is relatively chaste in terms of what we see. What the film excels at, however, is the anticipatory desire. It builds slowly, concluding with a stunning sequence that is all breathless remembrance and self-satisfaction — both wordless and impalpable.
