One Paragraph Movie Review: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

One hundred and eighth film: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, or ‘Le Scaphandre et le Papillon’. I mean, who says a film about a man rendered paralysed by a massive, debilitating stroke who can only blink one eye and is grief-stricken because he can’t ruffle the hair of his children can’t be fun? This. This movie says that. Filmed mostly from the point of view of Jean-Do the stroke victim in his hospital bed, I have to acknowledge the very, very high standard of acting, incredible mood-setting and devastating storyline, but also stress quite stridently that I didn’t enjoy a single second of this grim, depressing chore. It’s beautiful, and it’s important, and I guess you also sort of have to say that well-made films based on true stories about severe disability are beautiful and important, but even the scarce ironic and whimsical moments still left me with a dark smudge in the pit of my stomach. It’s just… it’s not how I like my movies. I prefer my gratuitous shots of a man’s eyelids being stitched together to be sprinkled with a little bit of hope. But nope. Just eyelids. Two fleeting Lenny Kravitz cameos out of five.