César: A Quiet, Messy Farewell to Marseille

Is it worth your time?

If you have any patience for black-and-white films where the stakes are mostly just people sitting around tables drinking coffee, then yes, absolutely. You should watch César. If you need explosions or a plot that moves at the speed of a jet engine, you are going to be bored out of your mind within ten minutes. This isn't a thriller like or Twelve Miles Out. It's just life, unfolding at the pace of a Sunday afternoon.

The whole thing centers on Panisse dying. He’s so cheerful about it that it almost feels wrong. Watching him insist the doctor tell him the truth about his condition—while his friends hover nearby—is one of those scenes that hits harder than a big cinematic climax.

The secret that isn't really a secret

Cesariot finding out who his real father is? It’s the engine of the movie, sure, but it’s not really the point. The point is the way these people talk to each other. The way they hold onto their pride even when they know they’re wrong. Raimu, as César, is just something else. He’s grumpy and loud and soft in the exact wrong moments. He carries the whole film like it's no effort at all.

• The lighting in the cafe scenes feels like it hasn't changed in twenty years.
• I still don't understand why Cesariot thought pretending to be a journalist was a good idea.
• The scene where the truth finally spills out feels like a heavy wool blanket being taken off a radiator.

There’s a bit where the kid goes to see Marius in Toulon, and honestly, the film loses a little bit of its steam there. The mechanic shop setting is fine, but it lacks the soul of that Marseille cafe. It feels like the movie is stretching its legs before the final act.

I kept thinking about how different this is from the frantic energy of something like Hollywood Hobbies. This isn't trying to impress you. It isn't trying to be 'profound' or 'artistic.' It’s just trying to be honest about how hard it is to forgive people you love. And it works.

By the time the credits roll, you don't feel like you've watched a 'masterpiece' or a 'classic.' You feel like you’ve spent a few hours sitting on a porch listening to your neighbors settle a long-standing argument. It’s messy. It’s imperfect. I think I liked it more for that.