The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Now we’re talking.

In THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY, we meet a man with Locked In Syndrome. A stroke has taken away his ability to move, his ability to speak, his ability to feel. He can communicate by blinking one eye. That’s it.

So how do you make a movie about an immobile mute? You tell the story of his book, which he wrote with the assistance of the world’s most patient woman. She spieled off the letters of the alphabet in most – to – least – common order, and he blinked when she got to the one he needed next. Sometimes she’d leap ahead and guess, and he’d tell her when she guessed correctly by blinking twice for yes and once for no.

Sounds uplifting, right? Well, here’s the thing: Jean-Do (played by Bond Movie Villain Mathieu Amalric) is too self-aware for uplift. He was something of a shit before the stroke that stole his life away, and he realizes that he’s still something of a shit (though a more pathetic shit) after this enormous change. And that, boys and girls, is the difference between world-class cinema and the Hallmark Channel.

His shittiness makes him an interesting character. It makes us wonder how he’ll react in a given situation, either in the current moment or in flashback to an earlier, normal, time in his life. It makes us grieve over some of his choices and glory in others, which leads us to consider our own choices and the ways in which we respond to the challenges, temptations, and duties of life. THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY may be about Jean-Do (a real man and former editor of Elle magazine), but it’s also about us.

And that’s why it’s the good stuff.