On the surface, there is nothing particularly wrong with "Freedom," the latest directorial effort from actor-turned-filmmaker Mélanie Laurent. It has been made with a good deal of style, moves along at a nice clip, and the main characters and the locations are both impossibly attractive. For some viewers, that is more than enough; those sorts may find it slick, sturdy entertainment. The trouble with the film is that it never really goes beyond that surface to indicate why Laurent felt compelled to bring this story to the screen. Shame, because it seems to have all the elements to create a compelling and entertaining narrative but never figures out how to bring them together into a satisfying whole.
The film tells the story of Bruno Sulak (Lucas Bravo), a real-life one-time parachutist and Foreign Legion deserter who captured the imagination of the French in the early 1980s with a string of increasingly high-profile robberies—not to mention the occasional prison break—that led many to see him as a flesh-and-blood version of Arsene Lupin, the beloved fictional gentleman thief. When we first see him, he and longtime pal Drago (Steve Tientchier) are holding up a grocery store while his girlfriend Annie (Léa Luce Busato) is waiting outside in the getaway car. However, he proves to be so charming and charismatic during the holdup that when the lead investigator, George Moreas (Yvan Attal), brings in a couple of the store clerks for questioning, they are practically swooning over him while insisting that his mug shots do not begin to do him justice.
Even when he moves from supermarkets to high-end jewelry stores, Bruno is not particularly driven to his crimes out of simple greed—he sees himself as an outsider living on the fringes of society, and it's the excitement of committing his crimes that he finds most rewarding. In a couple of instances, he is caught and put in prison. Still, he once again manages to confound authorities with daring escapes from custody. At one point, when a fellow inmate (Slimane Dazi) cannot make it out with him, Bruno breaks back into the prison later to set him free as well. Because of these escapades, not to mention the fact that all of his crimes have proven to be non-violent, he becomes a bit of a folk hero in France, but that is not enough for Annie, who implores him to get out while he still can, forcing him to decide whether to spend his days planning and executing heists or gamboling with his beautiful lover and lots of money in Rio.
If you are looking for a gritty rendition of Sulak's life and crimes, "Freedom" will probably not do it for you. He is shown throughout as smart, cunning, brave, unstintingly loyal to his friends, and a wonderful lover to Annie—even the cynical cop Moreas finds him endlessly fascinating and concedes that his job is a lot less fun when Luwak is behind bars. And yet, Laurent never bothers to dig deeper to explore Luwak to understand why he elected to go down the path that he did—the closest it comes is having him glibly explain that he deserted the Foreign Legion because he didn't like to be under the control of others. Laurent portrays him in such a glossy and sanitized light that after a while, the film feels like what might have resulted if he had been able to make a movie about his exploits.
Another problem with the film is that I never quite bought the relationship between Bruno and Annie. Oh sure, they look great together rolling around in bed or lounging on the beach. Still, we never really get a sense of what has brought them together and what has compelled Annie to stay with him, even as his notoriety and the attendant risks grow with each of his crimes. Therefore, when she finally does confront him—after realizing that he is planning on using part of their vacation time to rob a Cartier store in Cannes—the potentially heartbreaking moment doesn't amount to much in the end. Frankly, the relationship between Bruno and chief pursuer Moreas is more convincing when all is said and done, thanks in large part to the strong performance by Attal.
"Freedom" is not exactly terrible, I suppose, and if you look at it as Laurent's homage to the slick crime capers filmmakers in Hollywood and Europe used to crank out in the '60s and '70s (it even includes a rendition of "The Windmills of Your Mind," the song made famous in "The Thomas Crown Affair"). It has a certain easygoing charm to it. If it weren't for the subtitles, it would be the kind of film you could comfortably put on in the background while doing other things, safe in the knowledge that you wouldn't be missing too much. However, the film is ultimately too shallow for its good and never quite makes the case for why Bruno's exploits captured the imaginations of so many people or why he should be of any interest to anyone today.
