Redemption is a prominent topic in many a film - both fiction and documentary - however, it's the way it's dealt with which determines the film's success. Many take the overly sentimental, heavily scored and teary-eyed route, which for many (myself included) overpowers and strangles the simple yet touching tale of somebody rising from the gutter and reaching back for the stars. Or it can be done with humility, insight and sensitivity; thankfully Calvet rests comfortably in the latter camp.
Jean Marc Calvet has lived a life that you would possibly deem preposterous even in fiction: childhood drug addiction, a broken home, prostitution, being a rape victim, and all of this leading to a life of serious drug addiction, crime and violence, before an artistic awakening occurred and he gave it all up and became a successful artist. Calvet’s tale, while no doubt riveting, could, in the wrong hands, simply be one great big elongated anecdote – however, in his hands the story becomes as colourful, angry, animated and full of life as the artwork he creates. When he talks about his artwork spewing from him uncontrollably, he too almost physically exerts himself, such is the passion he expels. He recounts events in a fervid, frantic and tense manner, palpable in execution. Physical returns to the places these events took place add a further tangible, often frightening edge to proceedings. No more so than when he revisits an old home (now vacant), and is able to roam the empty rooms re-living a three month, isolated crack-cocaine binge which saw him hallucinate to such a degree he would lock himself in a cupboard for days on end, terrified of the voices in his head. The intensity of the situation is nerve-shredding; he is able to recreate his movements, feelings and thoughts with such ferocity that, at times, it’s as though he has lost his mind again. The scene where he re-enacts his first artistic experience, which included using his own blood on his living room wall, is a rousing moment in the film and, even in its retelling, the impact it served on Calvet’s life and the pinnacle it proved, is frighteningly clear.
The direction is subtle and engaging, letting Calvet take centre stage for the most part, capturing him in a way almost reminiscent of a nature documentary. The animal paces and moves with rapid speed and on unpredictable tangents; it's impossible to keep up. Managing to keep him in focus and audible throughout is itself an achievement, such is the animation and vivacity the man exudes.
Calvet decides to find his son, whom he abandoned several years ago and as the film winds down, they are brought together again for the first time. A fairy-tale ending of sorts, albeit the only fairy tale I know that involves drugs, prostitution, violence and the mafia. While the film is utterly gripping due to the fascinating story of its subject, it also brings up some rather hefty questions during its journey. Calvet is undeniably likeable; a transformed man and someone who emanates kindness, passion, regret and sorrow throughout. However, it questions the nature of redemptive power – does redemption equate to forgiveness? Can Calvet’s transformation ever outweigh the bad he did in his earlier years? There are no direct answers, but the questions the film throws up are substantial food for thought. One thing is for sure and that is that Calvet is genuine in his repentance and he will seemingly try until his dying days to re-tip the scales.
Stories like this don’t come around very often and the opportunity to capture them on film, even less. Calvet is a film that is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying, heart-breaking yet hopeful and is perpetually intoxicating in its execution. A fascinating subject, beautifully captured.
Calvet is about to start a limited UK theatrical release, screening information can be found here:
http://calvetmovie.com/screenings