狼族盟约

R.I.P. Émilie Dequenne (1981-2025), the brilliant Belgian and the recipient of Best Actress award at Cannes for her first acting gig in Dardenne brothers' Palme d'or winner ROSETTA, has sadly succumbed to a rare cancer at a young age of 43. Dequenne is endowed with a superb knack for disappearing into a role, making her performances feel both instinctually naturalistic and uninhibitedly expressive. After ROSETTA catapults her status as a promising young thespian, her follow-up, Christophe Gans' BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is an authentic Gallic blockbuster. A lush, genre-mashing period epic where Dequenne takes on a smaller but still intriguing part cannot be more different from the one in ROSETTA ROSETTA is a stripped-down, bare-bones exposé of underclass subsistence. It’s not trying to charm or entertain, but to make audience feel something real but also too close for comfort, regarding poverty, misery and struggle with no buffer between spectators in cushy seats and the relentless hardship on show. In short, a poverty porn in its most effective and acute fibers. The plot follows our titular heroine, a teenager living in a dreary caravan park with her alcoholic mother (Yernaux), scraping by on the edge of the society. Her sole hope is to find a stable job, and the only way to achieve that turns out to be a cruel zero-sum game, to heartlessly betray the kindness of Riquet (Rongione), a coworker who befriends her and throw him under the bus, especially after that cardinal scene where Rosetta hesitates while Riquet falls into the murky lake, flailing, in real danger of drowning. Rosetta's longer-than-it-is hesitation is brutal. It’s not cinematic suspense but ethical discomfort. The camera traces her face, and we can see the storm inside her: should she help him or not? And what’s devastating is that, for a few long seconds, she leans toward not. Not because she hates him, or because she’s evil, but because she’s desperate, beaten and exhausted. She knows that if he dies, the job at the waffle stand - the one lifeline she clings to - could be hers. This is one of the film’s most daring moves. The Dardennes refuse to protect Rosetta from her worst thoughts. They let her hover on the edge of some horrible thoughts: letting an innocent person die out of her personal economic desperation. It’s a moment that rips away any illusion of moral clarity. The world has taught Rosetta that survival is a ruthless game, that there is no room for compassion, only competition.But then she thinks better of it and rescues him. This action doesn't erase the hesitation. It doesn't redeem her in a neat way. But it does mark a crack in the hardened shell she's built around herself. It’s one of the few choices in the film that feels free - ungoverned by necessity, nor by the grim laws of a world where everything must be earned in pains. She chooses to save Riquet simply because, despite everything, a trace of moral instinct remains. That’s the genius of ROSETTA. It shows us that morality, especially in a world like that, is messy, costly, and sometimes even irrational. The fact that she nearly lets Riquet drown makes her human whereas the fact that she doesn’t makes her still worth rooting for. In a lesser film, this would be the redemptive climax. But Rosetta keeps going. It keeps grinding. The weight of survival doesn’t lift. But we, and Rosetta, are left with the memory of that decision - a moment when she could have been monstrous, and wasn’t. A reminder that even in the ugliest conditions, humanity clings on by its fingernails.The Dardennes’ approach is famously no-frills. Handheld cameras, natural lighting, and zero gloss over its milieu, a cinema-vérité style mixed with a stimulating guerrilla kinetics. The camera is almost invasive in how close it sticks to Rosetta, her face, her hands, her feet stomping through the mud. We barely get a second to breathe without being pulled into her smoldering rage and frustration of constantly getting the short end of the stick, her kept-to-herself tenacity, or the incessant pain from her period cramps. ROSETTA's focus on natural sound rather than a traditional score only adds to the Dardennes’ felicitous evocation of realism. The sound design focuses on the grating, everyday noises of Rosetta’s environs: the crunch of gravel under Rosetta’s boots, the droning noise of the factory where she briefly works, and the susurrus of the sylvan area where her digs are. No emotional manipulation through music - just the raw sounds from real life. There’s no color, no warmth. The film is washed out and gray. The caravan park itself feels like a cage - muddy, gray, and bleak. Even Rosetta herself looks drained of vitality, dressed in cheap, worn-out clothes. The Dardennes avoid any kind of aesthetic appeal because the film is meant to hit a raw nerve, exposing the underside of a developed Western country many folks refuse to acknowledge. Dequenne’s performance is all in the body language - tense shoulders, a clenched jaw, defensive eye contact. You can feel how much emotional energy it takes for Rosetta just to get through the day. She’s desperate to find stability, but also held back by her mother - a lush who cannot shake off her jones - who is as much a weight around her neck as the poverty they live in. Just when the film heads to a dismally tragic end, the Dardennes scores with a finale that is quietly devastating and, at the same time, subtly redemptive. Attempting ending her misery by turning on the gas, Rosetta strains to carry a gas canister - a heavy one - back to her trailer (for her, the bitter irony is that even suicide comes with a price tag). The canister is an obvious metaphor for the life-size burden she must grapple with. Then Riquet arrives on his moped, circling around her noisily, and she puts down the canister, finally cracks up. There’s the beginning of a tremor in her voice. She breathes heavily, perhaps for the first time in the whole film, and we can almost see her letting someone in.This ending is masterful for a few reasons. First, it’s ambiguous but emotionally clear. The film ends with an act of human decency. It signifies that even in a base, survivalist world, there might still be room for forgiveness, for solidarity, for connection. Secondly, it is a moral ending without being moralistic. In the end, Rosetta is not cheaply saved, but she pauses, and that pause is monumental. After 90 minutes of relentless motion, of trying to fix her life through sheer will, she finally stops. In that moment, something human is rekindled.It’s also important to recognize that the Dardennes are offering no easy solutions. Rosetta’s life won’t suddenly be all's well. But she’s no longer alone, and that small, stubborn act of mutual recognition with Riquet is enough to breathe life into a closing image that could otherwise have been hopeless. It tells us that while systems may fail, and institutions may be indifferent, individuals still have the power to break cycles - if only for a moment. It’s not a fairytale ending, but in the Dardennes' harsh universe, it might as well be a miracle.

If ROSETTA is hard-edged and minimalist, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is maximalist in every possible way. Gans’s film is a wild mix of period drama, creature horror, mystery thriller, and political intrigue, set during the Age of Enlightenment. It’s loosely inspired by the real-life legend of the Beast of Gévaudan - a mysterious creature that terrorized the rural French region. The story follows Grégoire de Fronsac (Le Bihan), a naturalist and royal agent, who is sent by the King to investigate the atrocious, almost supernatural killings attributed to the mythic beast. Fronsac is accompanied by Mani (Dacascos), an American Indian from the Iroquois tribe who has become his blood brother. As the pair digs closer to the truth, if laboriously (as the film is 2 and a half hour long), in time they will discover that the beast is not a natural creature but a secretively fashioned and controlled weapon, part of a political conspiracy to undermine the crown and exploit the growing unrest in the country. Eventually, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF comes through as a full-bore rampage on the clash between Enlightenment rationalism and religious superstition, as well as sending the sideswipes to the political manipulation of fear.Gans goes all-in on spectacle here. Lavish period costumes, huge set pieces, engaging fight scenes choreographed straight out of Hong Kong cinema, with slow-motion flips and swashbuckling flourishes. The creature itself is a blend of puppetry and animatronics (designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop), with CGI-assisted effects to smooth out the discrepancies. The beast looks both organic and unnatural, which gives it a genuinely unsettling quality. The film also has a kind of dark fairy-tale atmosphere - lots of shadows, candlelight, and ominous fog rolling over the countryside.Dacascos is the film's biggest secret weapon. On paper, Mani seems to be the stoic "noble savage" trope pasted into a racist Europe for flair. But Dacascos dodges that trap by grounding him in simmering intensity and spiritual presence that consistently turns heads. He's a man of few words, but every gesture speaks volumes. His stillness is as commanding as his movement, which brings a grace and precision to Mani’s fight scenes that feel balletic, fluid but also grounded, almost ritualistic, hinting at a connection to an otherworldly universe - a worldview shaped by nature, balance, and ancestral knowledge. His combat style contrasts sharply with the baroque violence of those French barbarians and the snarling chaos of the beast. There’s a discipline to Mani’s presence, something elemental.What’s perhaps most impressive is that how much non-verbal work Dacascos does. Mani isn’t given a lot of dialogue, but he communicates with expressions. There’s a palpable sense of history and pain behind his eyes - this is a man who has lost his homeland, who walks in a foreign place that sees him as alien, and yet he carries himself with calm authority. In a story that often critiques the Enlightenment’s hypocrisies - its tendency to proclaim rational order while hiding grotesque violence - Mani stands in for another kind of wisdom. He represents a form of knowledge that isn't written in books or debated in salons. He knows the forest, he respects the dead, he moves like a ghost through a land that doesn’t know what to do with him.There’s also the unspoken commentary that the film slips in with Mani's harrowing death: the outsider, the one most in tune with nature, is the one to be sacrificed. The moment Fronsac sees Mani's corpse, any pretense of diplomacy or rational investigation drops away, marks a turn in the story toward unrestrained chaos and vengeance. Dequenne plays Marianne de Morangias, the daughter of a local aristocrat, the apple of Fronsac's eyes. It’s a supporting role, but Dequenne makes her presence felt, she’s controlled and subtle, dutifully playing a damsel in distress within the formal confines of nobility.Cassel, as Marianne's brother Jean-François, carries himself like a man who believes in his own superiority - social, physical, intellectual - but there’s something rotten underneath, something festering. Cassel leans into that decay with delicious intensity. His facial expressions shift rapidly - from charming to menacing, from amused to dead-eyed. He’s magnetic precisely because he’s so unpredictable. There's a hint of the dandy villain about him, but it's twisted further by a creeping sense of obsession - particularly in his scenes with Dequenne, where the presence of a one-sided attraction gives their dynamic a faintly gothic, almost incest-drama-meets-werewolf-movie kind of vibe.Jean-François’s backstory - his injury, his time abroad, his missing hand—only adds to the mythologized weight of the character. And when it’s revealed that he’s behind much of the carnage and fearmongering, Cassel drops the mask completely and revels in the character’s moral unraveling. In full villain mode, he’s Shakespearean: arrogant, bitter, and fully convinced of his own right to dominate. It’s an over-the-top performance in all the best ways, perfectly matched to the film’s high-pulp sensibility.Then there is Cassel's then partner in life, Bellucci, as Sylvia, the impossibly glamorous Italian courtesan who becomes romantically entangled with Fronsac. At first, she seems like a stock femme fatale - witchy, sensual, aloof. But Bellucci knows how to play with that archetype, and slowly we begin to suspect there’s more to Sylvia than silk and smoky glances. And sure enough - there is. It’s a fun reversal that repositions her not as the seduced, but as the one in control. Bellucci plays the double role - lover and agent - with icy cool. She doesn’t overplay the reveal; instead, she lets Sylvia’s intelligence telegraph through minimal gestures, loaded silences, and strategic manipulation. What’s particularly effective is that Sylvia never drops her mystique, even after her motivations are revealed. She’s enigmatic to the end, a conduit of both desire and disillusionment. Bellucci keeps the tone just right - seductive, slippery, always a half-step out of reach.On the debit side, Le Bihan is a bit of a mixed bag here. He’s the official lead, the rational Enlightenment-era man of science turned reluctant warrior. While he looks the part - ruggedly handsome, well-costumed, and physically up to the task - his performance doesn't always match the theatrical hijinks or charisma of his co-stars. He delivers his lines with clarity, but rarely with the emotional punch or tension that the stakes seem to demand. It’s not that he’s bad, just a bit bland. Thankfully, when Fronsac is thrusted to be an avenging force in the third act, Le Bihan gets to show some piss and vinegar, his grief becomes palpable, a killing spree and a one-to-one throw-down that follow give him a chance to step out of his moral limbo and comport himself as a legitimate, rousing action hero.After all, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is a rare example of cinematic excess that somehow works precisely because of its contradictions. It’s overstuffed, tonally chaotic, and often ridiculous, but also bold, visually arresting, and completely unafraid to take risks. A handsome revenue (grossing over $70 million in worldwide theatrical release) is a meritorious reward. referential entries: Joachim Lafosse's OUR CHILDREN (2012, 6.7/10); Albert Dupontel's SEE YOU UP THERE (2017, 7.7/10); Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne's THE PROMISE (1996, 8.0/10), TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT (2014, 8.6/10). Title: RosettaYear: 1999Genre: DramaCountry: Belgium, FranceLanguage: FrenchDirectors/Screenwriters: Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc DardenneComposer: Jean-Pierre CoccoCinematographer: Alain MarcoenEditor: Marie-Hélène DozoCast:Émilie DequenneFabrizio RongioneOlivier GourmetAnne YernauxBernard MarbaixFrédéric BodsonFlorian DelainRating: 8.1/10

English Title: Brotherhood of the WolfOriginal Title: Le pacte des loupsYear: 2001Genre: Action, Horror, Adventure, Mystery, DramaCountry: France Language: French, Italian, GermanDirector: Christophe GansScreenwriters: Stéphane Cabel, Christophe GansComposer: Joseph LoDucaCinematographer: Dan LaustsenEditors: Xavier Loutreuil, Sébastien Prangère, David WuCast:Samuel Le BihanMark Dacascos Vincent CasselÉmilie DequenneJérémie RenierMonica BellucciJean YanneÉdith ScobJean-François StéveninBernard Farcy Jacques PerrinHans MeyerPhilippe NahonVirginie DarmonJohan LeysenJean-Loup WolffNicolas VaudeMichel PuterflamBernard FressonEric PratAndré PenvernGaspard UllielRating: 7.4/10

第一次观看《狼族盟约》是在毕业后工作不久，那时仍处淘碟时代，街头的影碟店便如今天的沙县小吃或者兰州拉面。

有个同事是个中发烧友，向我极力推荐了此片。

一晃十年有余，故事轮廓业已淡漠，但影片神秘的氛围以及莫妮卡·贝鲁奇的惊鸿一瞥尚记忆犹新。

重观本片，予我最深刻的印象却换作了布景与服饰。

由于故事脱胎于十八世纪的法国真实事件，因而影片对当时服饰的还原度可谓精良。

那个年代正值法王路易十五统治时期，恰是洛可可风格被发扬光大的阶段，从装潢到家具、再到服饰，无不散发出纤美、精致、浮华、繁复的风格，就连片中的妓院也充满了宫廷般的脂粉气。

若论对享乐、艳情和肉欲的承载力，「洛可可艺术」当仁不让。

与女性化的轻巧和甜腻相对的，是来自神秘怪兽的恐怖威胁，两相对比，愈发凸显出吉瓦丹地区人民的柔弱与无助。

导演克里斯多夫·甘斯对神秘氛围的把握在此片中就已显山露水，五年后他更是神还原了经典的游戏《寂静岭》。

神秘不仅来源于怪兽，还有两个神秘的人物，一个是跟随男主法兰沙的印第安男仆马尼，非但身手矫健，还会些不明觉厉的秘术；另一个则是意大利妓女西尔维娅，莫妮卡·贝鲁奇完美诠释了神秘和冷艳，床笫间的她令人联想起法国画家布歇笔下的《躺在沙发上的奥达丽斯克》，丰满健美、曲线柔和，尽显致命的诱惑。

当然，她还有另一个不为人知的隐藏身份。

影片的前半部分云山雾罩，怪兽、村民、贵族、吉普赛人、还有法兰沙等外来客，令小小的吉瓦丹地区风云际会。

围绕着犹抱琵琶半遮面的怪兽，各派人物之间自然亦有一番勾心斗角，恐惧、猜忌、焦虑，再加上导演善于搞一些神秘莫测的蒙太奇，形成外有怪兽肆虐，内有尔虞我诈的局面，遂令悬疑加剧。

直到马尼冒死闯入一个地下墓穴并用生命的代价才换来了事件的冰山一角，所谓的怪兽非是天灾，实为人祸。

当地的神父萨迪西以及贵族让-弗朗索瓦秘密组建了一个兄弟会，并驯养改造了一只来自非洲的野兽（片中未点明，但应该是狮子），利用它制造惨案来逐步破坏人们对国王的信心，从而达到政治与宗教上的险恶目的。

事实上，历史的原貌简单得多，但导演加入了政治宗教的阴谋，让这一事件显得更加扑朔迷离，也和法国大革命前夕的动荡迷茫、暗潮涌动联系了起来。

《狼族盟约》格局上的大气细腻，服饰镜头上的精致考究都是值得肯定的地方，然而这些终究难以掩盖本片「形式大于内容」的缺憾——同样也是洛可可风格本身的命门。

影片杂糅了历史、宗教、恐怖、情色等元素，但毕竟贪多嚼不烂，何况导演过于注重神秘化、娱乐化的表现方式，以至于使得前两者不但没有起到增加作品厚重感的作用，反而彻底沦为附庸，不免有点可惜了。

看到那印第安人血战被暗算然后抛尸山谷，还心里暗暗存了念想，祈盼他身体强健能扛过来。

来到他尸体旁边的狼似乎也暗示会找人来救他。

可惜，结果没有给我惊喜，死了。

男主被在监狱毒死，还是被上过床的妓女（圣女？

)毒杀的，这回心里又暗想了：好嘛，干脆两男主都死光光，来个大悲剧结局也算是绝对经典了。

可惜，又让我失望了，蛮俗的假死复活。

最后结局啥来着，女主明明死了又没死（靠！

那妹控变态真是脑残啊，先女干后杀还没杀死，还大言不惭的说自己死了能和妹妹在一起了）。

男主拿死去的印第安人的神药救了回来，然后就去浪迹天涯海角你侬我侬了。

但这还算圆满的童话结局——王子和公主从此过上了幸福快乐的生活——却怎么也让我高兴不起来。

心情，沉重，沉重。

正派主角死了三个，却只活过来俩，独独留下我最钟爱的印第安人壮烈战死，火葬化灰。

这就是男二男配的宿命吗？

这就是勇义之士的下场吗？

妈了个巴子！

最恶心厌恶那个发羊癫的吉普赛女人！

明明浪的一逼，水性杨花，神经有病，怎么淳朴的印第安人就被她几个眼神勾搭上了呢？

最后被暗算的一大因素也是被这浪蹄臭婆娘牵住心神手下留情了。

而这贱人呢，在印第安人死掉后还和那群伥鬼喽喽发浪，笑的没心没肺。

所幸，逃的过一时而已，最后被干掉了。

说到这里，又联想到刚开局男主二人在暴雨野外救了这两父女一次。

我就不明白了，那老人不是照顾野兽的吗，也是有作用的人物，怎么会这么被一帮貌似流民的袭击。

被救命后，不报恩也就罢了，不偷风报信或者暗地给男主点提示也罢了，还继续助纣为虐，恩将仇报，啧啧。

难道那场只是演戏吗？

法国大片总爱跟邪教 打交道，暗流1，2如此，此片也如此。

翻来覆去的就是强调人性的恶大于野兽的恶。

有点烦，另外也太长了点，好多地方不知所云。

影片虽然长了点，也还不至于让人感到无聊。

一只专伤害妇孺的猛兽，追查事实真相的皇家标本师。

中世纪的法国，浓郁的异域风味，流行的浓妆和假发。

再来点格斗作为调味剂。

当然还有莫妮卡·贝鲁齐性感的裸体。

喜欢中世纪欧洲的朋友会喜欢这个片子。

挺好看的我觉得。

实在是没法评论的一部电影，你说它不好看吧，有一二个美女，有一二个还勉强能说得上是帅哥，有血腥有暴力有情色有政治有阴谋，可是就是说不上是个什么玩意儿，故事故事乱糟糟，主题主题说不清，看得是一个懵字了得。

服饰布景很漂亮，画面配乐也精美，情节推进也不慢，但两个半小时，还是够折磨人的，如果要精简得讲完一个故事，能删一半都多。

我有一堆问题哪个能帮我解释清楚？

说实在人名我都没搞清（法语除了您好谢谢其它我是一句不懂），除了玛丽安和曼尼（比较简单大众），卡索演的那个哥哥叫什么(什么什么尚？

尚什么什么？

)？

做标本的这个人叫什么？

莫妮卡演的叫什么？

搞个兽医和那个疯女人的角色做什么（大革命之前的年代，要证明他们是被压迫的人民从而参加秘密结社？

）？

曼尼喜欢那个疯女人？

为什么最后才怀疑那些穿得像原始部落人一样的人（第一次狩猎时没看出来这些人有问题？

这些人是什么人？

农民？

猎户？

从何处来往何处去？

）？

大幅度渲染妓院的情节有什么意思（就为了让莫妮卡露露？

我实在受不了那个半拉子英雄又说爱玛丽安又去嫖妓）？

那个疯女人到底是谁杀死的？

或者是有不止一个疯女人？

渲染这哥哥爱上妹妹又是什么意思？

那个什么沙丁又到底是什么人，和他们家是什么关系？

真是乱!

法国电影一贯讲究镜头感。

即便再烂的情节，再平庸的表演，但镜头一定会用的很有想法。

虽然一开头就已经猜到了整个剧情的发展，但那种不同于好莱坞模式的镜头语言还是让人为之动容。

最后，我还是坐在了这里，像故事的结尾一样，像那墙上黄昏的影子，像叙述人年迈的目光，正环顾着四周，摸索着情绪。

当我问自己，要说什么的时候，我想起了原因。

如今，再不能如同从前，两个人坐在长长的枕木上，谈了这样的话：等我积蓄够了钱，就找个月租便宜的房子，在僻静的地方悄悄地生活。

那是个阳光耀眼的下午，我蹲在公交站牌旁，在水泥的灰尘扑向鼻尖时，仿佛是来自从前的情形，那灰尘让我想起了自己的童年，当然，还有那天早晨。

我总觉得不该这样开始，更怕让自己想得更多。

怕自己愧疚。

听到敲门声时，望着远处的身影，我已养成习惯地垂着头。

听自己喃喃低语。

再有一个小时，又到明天了。

而那天早晨回旋在穹顶的光芒仍然为我所记着，像故事里人们聚在餐桌前闲谈哲学和艺术，还是青年的叙述人站了起来，给人们朗读着他刚想起的诗般。

那天早晨的光芒便这样不时从眼前一掠而过。

从我稚拙的言谈里。

也许笨拙和从来不曾灵敏过。

我发现自己就是这样。

有天早上，我花一块钱买了厚厚一叠《北京青年报》的旧报纸用来贴窗户，阳光照在上面时，看到了上面有篇金基德《弓》的影评。

那是二零零六年的春天，北方的寒风尚未过去。

当时，读影评让人感到像在受苦，以致我至今还很排斥那些格式。

所以，我如同自己在黑黢黢的屋子里看电影一样，老听到别人间的指责：你怎么看着看着又睡着了。

2011.8.4

微信公众号：shenshike-HK (心是主人身是客）＝＝＝这是一部容易错失的好看的法国片，云集了美国好莱坞大片的商业元素，美国牛仔片的兄弟情，中国功夫片的身手，法国贵族的风貌，印第安人的气质，教会和王权的冲突，人性和兽性的对比，还有《西西里的美丽传说》女主角莫尼卡贝鲁齐的胴体，……以法国人别致视角娓娓道来。

神秘、离奇、曲折、浪漫。

几年前看过，最近又看了一遍，还是觉得好看，值得推荐。

再次看毕电影，拿影碟封套细看，见后面印着一段“美文”介绍电影：神秘巨兽四出肆虐，死亡恐惧蔓延全城。

以斩魔情圣及战斧为首的狙魔特工队联同独臂枪及圣女骑士率大军追捕。

期间，斩魔情圣邂逅神秘美人铁扇妖姬，两人一夜缠绵……，其后，狙魔群英更被妖魔军团杀个措手不及，战斧浴血重创，独臂枪更被魔力入侵，欲侵犯圣女骑士……香港印制。

不禁莞尔，这下我总算明白了，为啥这部电影当时在香港没怎么引起重视。

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起初看到这部电影的名字的时候以为是讲述狼人的电影，看完了才发现不是。

一个组织让教会承认自己的地位，同时利用猛兽散布谣言迫使政府收缩力量，以发展自己的力量，最后影片仅仅说明了野兽是来自非洲的杂交品种，至于具体是什么已经无人可知。

看到后面才发现，所谓的狼族盟约与这个猛兽和这个组织没有任何关系，它是马尼与法兰沙之间互托生死的盟约。