Portrait Of A Lady On Fire

The unofficial third part of a trilogy of female experiences from Celine Sciamma, Portrait of a Lady on Fire breaks conventions around queer female narratives on the screen, presenting a lesbian relationship free from fetishism and full of sincerity. Set in France, 1770, the film follows Marianne and Heloise, a talented painter and a reluctant subject. Marianne has been paid to paint Heloise for a potential husband, however Heloise’s fear of a life trapped in a loveless marriage makes her impossibly closed off and cold. Marianne attempts to find a way into her soul to paint the perfect portrait, and instead finds herself in an relationship that can never exist beyond the walls of the eerie chateau where the film takes place.

The first act is a slow burn, easing the viewer into the characters that make up the relationship at the core of the film. Marianne, played by Noémie Merlant, is kind but careless, and Heloise, played by Adèle Haenel, is stubborn but quietly fearless. Both Merlant and Haenel’s performances are perfect examples of ‘show don’t tell’, which is bolstered by Sciamma’s deeply intimate direction and script. While for the former half of the film they barely utter a word, their conversations during the latter are filled with quips and comments that could be heard between lovers today. Through these two characters, and these intelligently written scenes, Sciamma celebrates the timelessness of true love in a way that is difficult to find amongst the plethora of heterosexual relationships incessantly regurgitated by popular, modern cinema.

Amidst the deeply personal narrative, Claire Mathon’s cinematography is equally visceral, with flashes of ethereal, almost supernatural, moments of film. Each shot is so deeply thought out, that when one moment felt out of place, a few shots later it all made sense. A love story on screen feels like something that cannot be done without drawing from tropes that have been rehashed for decades, and yet, Mathon and Sciamma have managed to create something truly original in its content and form.

The presentation of queer relationships has been deeply problematic in recent years, with lesbian relationships in particular being defined by fetishistic sex scenes that are more pornographic than they are cinematic, or meaningful. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is both intense and erotic, without ever feeling like it is sensationalising female sexuality. Sciamma has spoken about the importance for her of the ‘post love-making’ scene in film, and these moments are where the viewer is as involved in the relationship as Marianne and Heloise. Sexuality is achieved in Portrait Of A Lady without a single sex scene, and this is the film's greatest feat; eroticism that is enrapturing, without ever overtly sexualizing it's subjects. 

Each one of these moments builds in intensity, so that the climax of the film is all the more heart-breaking. The film opens with the fact that this is not a relationship that lasts, because, after all, this is the 18^th century. And yet, the presentation of Heloise and Marianne’s love is so perfect, it is difficult to accept that the two are ripped apart by a society that has not yet come to accept love in all its forms.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire is an astonishing piece of cinema, that observes love and loss with vivid detail and infectious passion. Sciamma has outdone herself with the final part of this trilogy, with a love story that while intimate and personal, is also, somehow, beautifully universal.

Photo Credit: BFI