"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"

"I decided to stop pitying myself. Other than my eye, two things aren't paralyzed, my imagination and my memory."

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, to put the matter quite bluntly, blew me away upon first viewing. The film is epic in its depiction of a life sequestered by the human body, a man who regains his humanity through his indomitable imagination, sardonic wit, and vast memory. And to top matters off, it was done in French to do justice to its source material (Jean-Dominique Bauby's Le Scaphandre et le Papillion).

A brief synopsis of the plot goes as follows: Jean-Dominique Bauby, the then-editor of French Elle in the mid-nineties, suffers a massive stroke, halting the movement of his fast-paced lifestyle. The film begins with Jean-Do's awakening from a coma three months after his "cerebrovascular accident." Julian Schnabel made the choice of filming good portions of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly from the perspective of Jean-Do, the lens of the camera blinking and blurring . . . a decision that effectively renders the world through the eyes of our protagonist. We are as confused as Jean-Do at the film's start, soon learning with Jean-Do that he is the victim of locked in syndrome - a condition where one's mental faculties all function perfectly, but where one's body is left paralyzed from head to toe. The only part of Jean-Do's body that can be moved is his left eyelid (his right eye is occluded in a particularly unnerving scene). As the film progresses, we learn that this eyelid is to become the one saving grace afforded our self-deprecating hero, his one means of communication linking him to the outside world as he is trapped on the "shores of loneliness."


Through visits paid Jean-Do by various persons, we are given glimpses into the life that was his existence prior to the stroke - the scene in which he sees Céline, the mother of his children, is gut-wrenching for both parties involved, proving one of the more beautiful moments in a film packed with them. Jean-Do revelled in all that life had to offer - driving fast cars, dating beautiful women, and acting as a creative force in the fashion industry. He led a life many would envy, only to have it stripped away from him in the blink of an eye. His memories, coupled with his capacity to imagine, are all he has at this juncture in his life, and he must use them to retain his humanity.

Jean-Do's speech therapist constructs a tablet containing the letters of the French alphabet in order of declining frequency, instructing her immobile patient to blink for the appropriate letter as she reads them off. After an initial despondency, Jean-Do takes to the system, eventually using it to fulfill a deal with a publishing agency. He mentally wrote and re-wrote his novel, editing his own work - giving dictation to the lovely Claude Mendibil, a angel of sorts sent to his side by the publishing agency. The non-physical love that manifests between the two is beautiful to behold - it is purely an emotional connection between two human souls, where sexual interaction can in no way be factored into the equation.


To prevent giving away the film's ending, I'll just say that it is dealt with in a very delicate manner - justice is done to Jean-Do and to all those who aided him in his undoubted frustration with the card that had been dealt him.

It should also be noted that in addition to compelling performances and a taut script, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is an impressive technical achievement. The cinematography of the film is breathtaking, simultaneously throwing you off balance while engaging you completely. We are allowed to see the world as Jean-Do sees it in large part due to the cinematographic decisions made. Likewise, what can be said about this film that ultimately does not reference the film's auteur, Julian Schnabel? His dedication to his vision is evident in the execution of every moment of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, from the personal touches to sets, to the intimacy engendered between characters, to the overall aura exuded by the film. It will no doubt rank among his greatest works.

Simply put, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a beautifully made piece of art. It is a reaffirmation of the value of human life, and a reminder that we all must make the best of what we have. Life is too precious to spend fretting your own existence . . . instead, go out and make the most of it. Live your live.

Thank you, Jean-Do.