At 84 minutes, “Around a Small Mountain” is the shortest film directed by 82-year-old Jacques Rivette. Its length and content thus work together to invoke questions about the meaning of time.
The family circus
At 84 minutes, “Around a Small Mountain” is the shortest film directed by 82-year-old Jacques Rivette. Its length and content thus work together to invoke questions about the meaning of time. Viewers are left to ponder whether time really can heal old wounds, lead to unimaginable fates or become an escape to troubles.
The small mountain refers to Pic Saint Loup in the Languedoc region of southern France where most of the movie takes place, but perhaps also metaphorically represents the troubles that stand in our way. Several of the characters have troubles, some smaller than others, but the concentration is on Kate (Jane Birkin) and how she attempts to find a way to get past her mountain without directly climbing it.
Kate, who grew up in the business of a family circus, leaves her life and predicaments as a performer in the past, running away to France. Fifteen years later, she is back to confront memories of “the accident” and her late father’s request for her excommunication from the circus.
On her way, Kate finds herself stuck on a desolate road as her car stalls. She is helped by a handsome stranger, who we later learn is Vittorio the Italian (Sergio Castellitto). Without the exchange of a single word, Vittorio helps Kate resume her journey and fatefully, the couple find themselves meeting again in the countryside, where Kate offers Vittorio a ticket to the circus.
Smitten with Kate for one reason or another, Vittorio does indeed attend the show. He bursts into laughter at the opening act, something that startles both other audience members and the cast themselves, as it has become rare for the performers to have such a connection with the audience. That importance of the connection between the performers and the audience, and between the performers themselves, becomes painstakingly clear as head clown Alexandre (Andre Marcon) laments the lack of audience intrigue he has seen during his time with the circus. The significance of relationships among the performers is illuminated as Kate’s presence is less than welcomed, but more than anything scrutinized, as her sister complains of not receiving a single kiss from Kate since she’d fled.
The entire film takes on characteristics of a live show itself, as there are often formal exits from characters within scenes. At times, there is cause to question whether the characters are rehearsing for the circus or whether this is their true dialogue outside their make-believe world. Through blurring the lines between reality and theatrical depictions of actuality, viewers are encouraged to ponder whether life itself is merely an act with a social audience.
That certainly seems to become clear concerning Kate’s life, for she refuses to show her true self to any of her peers, particularly the charming and gracious Vittorio, always replying that her sadness is the result of “not [your] business.” Kate wears a veil over her troubles just like the performers wear makeup to cover their flaws.
The themes in the story are quite real and the dialogue is executed believably. The movie does, however, move slowly, and there is hardly any character progression or change. At 84 minutes long, it is hard for any metamorphosis to convincingly happen, and perhaps that is the true intent of the film altogether: The film shows that time can’t necessarily heal all wounds. Actually, time is a bout of experiences that shape our malleable personalities, create us into what we are and continue to change us into what we shall become. ?