(kkiehle@mscd.edu)
A haggard-looking middle-aged mom (Barbara Sarafian) slowly pushes a cart through a grocery store, two twins in tow, looking for all the world like she’d rather have her head in a gas oven … so begins Belgium, Moscow, which won two awards at the Starz! Denver Film Festival and three at Cannes.
Our housefrau is particularly ruthless in a parking-lot fender-bender, trading personal attacks with the ice cream deliveryman (Jurgen Delnaet) she plows into. With her husband, recently separated, she’s equally bitter. A third child, a teenaged daughter, is in that adorable disrespectful stage. And that’s just in the first ten minutes.
Being a single mom can be rough, ugly business, so just about any friendly attention outside the house can bring the same relief as cool water to a fresh sunburn-- even if he’s a little younger, and even if she’s still technically married.
This independent effort from director Christophe Van Rompaey is marketed as a romantic comedy. The films soundtrack, an accordion and jaunty organ accompaniment, adds a touch of whimsy. Regrettably, the rest of the comedy is at the expense of this pitiful, frumpy, world-weary woman, who seems desperate to be pursued, even as she has to be convinced that she’s worthy of it, and that’s just sad.
You don’t want to be this woman. You don’t want to think about your mom as being like this woman. And ugly duckling stories that take place past puberty are patronizingly anti-feminist. It’s excruciating to watch a woman, whom the mirror turned against long ago, place all her self-worth and happiness in the amorous attention of a freewheeling stud.
Even so, it’s intriguing to see the mid-life crisis play out from the other gender’s perspective; the moral struggle, and the giddy kick in the seat of the pants that comes with a crush, making you act irresponsible and nuts. Unlike the husband character, however—a professor who’s run off with one of his young students--- Mom isn’t allowed to be unrepentantly selfish, and a soft, traditionally feminine heart prevails.
But, true to genre, Belgium, Moscow is infected with naive idealism and characters that are almost guaranteed to make you, the viewer, feel attractive and confident by comparison. In short, we know by the halfway mark how this formulaic, fairy tale fluff will end, and there’s nil in the way of two subplots to sustain much interest.
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