Les Invasions Barbares (2003)

Denys Arcand is smart and so are his movies. Les Invasions is his Opus.

Originally published on my Substack August 19, 2021


Arcand makes films like Mordecai Richler wrote novels: hilarious, self-referential, witty, daring, and il s’en câlisse if you don’t get the bilingual inside jokes.

You would do yourself and Les Invasions a disservice by not watching Le Déclin de l'Empire Américain (1986) where we first meet this cast of erudite, pseudo-leftwing libertines. Le Déclin showcases Arcand’s prescience and masterful dialogue; it’s a high-brow version of Friends (released nearly a decade before the sitcom). Eight colleagues/lovers spend the weekend together at one of their lake houses outside of Montreal (how Pierre affords a multi-million dollar country house in addition to his flat in Montreal and recent divorce is no more clear than how a Monica and Rachel finance their West Village apartment).

They are a group of adult-children; they talk about sex and relationships alot, alot, alot. None of them have successfully committed to anything in their lives and in their blind self-involvement, they believe that their friendships represent some kind of enlightened family unit.

While ostensibly about sex, Le Déclin’s characters are really interested in expressions of prowess (mostly cerebral). The physical act is merely the denouement of an intellectual contest. For the professors at Université de Montréal “good sex” means getting someone you admire to become infatuated with you… And then showing your friends how insincerely self-deprecating and witty you can be about the experience after. But I digress.

We are pleased when we see that our friends haven’t changed much two decades later; though now in their advanced years, they are less preoccupied with orgies and sadomasochism than truffles, Brunelo, and heroin.

But Les Invasions is about death, Rémy’s death, far and away the group’s most Rabelaisian member. Rémy (played by Rémy Girard) is dying of cancer in an overcrowded Canadian hospital: estranged from his children, divorced from his wife, and separated from most of his old friends. It’s not the end we would have wished for this Québécois Falstaff but it’s not surprising either. In spite of his bitterness, he charms and regales (hilariously marshaling the Spanish inquisition and Primo Levi to the army of atheism in his theological battle with the beneficent nun who’s in charge of caring for him).

Rémy spends a lot of words gassing about the things he never achieved: great works never written, profound understanding never attained. Neither the audience nor his friends are convinced. But he can’t bring himself to express remorse for his wonton life; he doesn’t really have regrets.

(Rémy and his heroin-addicted caregiver Nathalie brilliantly portrayed by Marie-Josee Croze which won her the best actress award at Cannes)

The film’s motif is the parallel reconciliation of Rémy to death and his children, wife, and friends. His grubby mistress makes an appearance in his squalid hospital room but is quickly supplanted the people who matter (Arcand is more than a bit of a snob).

With all his infidelity, sham, and selfishness, Girard’s performance is irresistible. We’re happy to let the old satyr keep his personal myth. He receives absolution and the end we all wish for: painless, peaceful, even dignified, surrounded by everyone we love. We don’t begrudge him.

Is it contrived? Of course, though I wouldn’t watch a movie about someone dying agonizingly alone in a hospital bed, nor should you.

I’ve been watching my grandparents die for a little over a year now: cancer, voluntary stopping of eating and drinking, congenital heart failure. My family has tried to inject these departures with the kind of irreverent humor and patient affection that Arcand brings us in his wonderful movie. It hasn’t been as funny, the dying are not as cogent or amusing as Rémy.

Nonetheless, Les Invasions is an uplifting, hopeful movie. It may always be too late to change ourselves but it’s never too late to change how we feel about each other. This is just as true in Arcand’s world as in ours. Love wins.