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With Tchaikovsky and Strauss waltzes on
the soundtrack and images of densely packed red roses, Pauline and Paulette
engenders some initial qualms--beware the forthcoming sentimentality! There is no cause
for worry. On the contrary, writer-director Lieven Debrauwer's film about four elderly
sisters avoids the easy, saccharine emotions and maintains a wry point of view, filled
with telling detail and subtle perceptions into the human heart.
Pauline (Dora van der Groen) is mentally retarded, unable to spread jam
on her bread or tie her shoelaces. She lives a pleasant enough life with her patient
sister Martha (Julienne De Bruyn) in a lovely house in a small Belgian town. She keeps a
scrapbook filled with pictures of flowers and happily waters the garden. But more than
anything, she adores her sister Paulette (Ann Petersen) who owns a fabric store and is the
reigning diva of the local amateur operetta company.
The problem is that Paulette has little patience and resents even
Pauline's minor intrusions into her ordered shopkeeper's life. With her strands of pearls,
heavy makeup, and careful coiffure, Paulette could be a Belgian Mary Kay, living in a
house full of pink frilliness and kitschy porcelain figurines.
The fourth sister, Cecile (Rosemarie Bergmans), is a bit younger and
has removed herself from family responsibilities, living in Brussels. Pauline hardly knows
her.
Martha dies suddenly and the sisters learn that her will instructs that
the three survivors will share equally in her estate, so long as one of the other sisters
provides a home for Pauline. If not, all the money will be used to pay for Pauline's care
in an institution. Paulette has dreams of retiring to the seaside and Cecile would like a
cottage in Spain--they are loathe to give up their inheritances. But neither wants to have
Pauline impinge on their established lives, neither has much interest in tying her
shoelaces and spreading jam on her bread at breakfast each morning. (That no one thought
to buy her shoes with Velcro closures is a point slyly made later on.)
Debrauwer follows each attempt at resolving the sisters' quandary, each
situation filled with small incidents that illuminate the characters of the three
surviving sisters and the nature of their family ties. He works with impeccable taste,
never milking a situation for a cheap tear, never extending a scene beyond just the right
length to make its point. He maintains a delicate balance as well: the sisters may be
selfish and self-centered, but they are responsible, too, and they are emotionally
connected to Pauline. And Pauline, an innocent, does have special needs and requires
constant attention.
Dora van der Groen (Leonie, Antonia's Line) is fine
as Pauline, in the sort of performance that calls to mind Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man and Sean Penn in I am Sam. Pauline's limitations are on display, but so is her
humanity. Even when she most embarrasses Paulette, it is an expression of love. Ann
Petersen's Paulette is a marvel--even as she is visibly impatient and snaps at Pauline,
her unarticulated and conflicted inner feelings are traveling across her face; she conveys
far more than mere dialogue allows.
In the film's denouement, a phony Hollywood ending seems to be bearing
down, but trust Mr. Debrauwer. His ending is bittersweet, believable, insightful, and
consonant with what has come before. Pauline and Paulette will
inevitably be labeled a "small film," but if it is that, it is also very big
indeed, in its humanity and in its artistry.
- Arthur Lazere