‘She is Conann’ Review
A queer fantasy epic like no other, Bertrand Mandico’s She is Conann is an uncompromising vision laced with the director’s trademark eccentricities in a constantly evolving search for identity. Where Mandico’s previous film, After Blue (Dirty Paradise), felt like an acid trip through a sensory-driven futuristic planet, She is Conann crosses temporal dimensions and sheds aesthetic after aesthetic through various time periods in the name of finding one’s true self. As with the director’s previous efforts, you will know almost immediately whether his latest film is in your viewing wheelhouse, but those able to connect to its wavelength will find a most unexpected journey into the barbaric quest for art and love.
Mandico’s films often lean on provocative imagery to heighten the sense of place and overtly remove any ambiguity towards subtext. Here is no different as his screenplay broaches the grieving process through the violent, hyper-sexualized mythos of Conan the Barbarian. Told by a leather jacket-wearing dog-faced human named Rainer (Elina Löwensohn), She is Conann’s narrative encompasses multiple generations as Conann (played by various actors throughout) reflects on her past lives and the violence that has forced her to become the woman she is today.
The characters are almost superfluous to Mandico’s film, as he wrestles more with legacy and the thematic role that violence plays in the evolution of art - and, as a result, the role it plays in finding one’s own identity. While unsurprising given its character’s legacy, She is Conann begins leaning fully into its gore and weaves that within the narrative itself. Picking up with Conann as a teenager (Claire Duburcq), her adolescence is quickly consumed by the world of violence around her, and as Rainer guides her between the ages, she is consistently forced to kill her past self in order to turn into who she will become. It must be done by her own hand, even, cementing the idea of identity being a form of sacrifice into actualization.
As such, She is Conann is a bloody affair in its first few iterations of Conanns. A visually impressive work, even by Mandico’s standards, it’s also littered with provocative imagery and stylistic flourishes that intermingle the modern and the past. Comprised mostly of black-and-white photography, shot by Nicolas Eveilleau, every scene feels epic even when its scale has shifted from a massive sword and sorcery production to a claustrophobic, single-room setting. The production design is expectedly spectacular and varied as a result of the constant migration from one generation of Conann to the next, and the black-and-white helps to mask some of the lower production values. It’s only truly noticeable when the film briefly moves back to color where it becomes a little more apparent that this is a micro-budget production. Still, it’s an impressive feat, much as Mandico’s After Blue was that the film can still be this gorgeous and only rarely show signs of a blemish or two.
While visually She is Conann is remarkable and the reason to buy into Mandico’s vision, the plot itself feels less imperative to the experience. It’s Rainer who ultimately keeps the film on track, as its loose narrative provides a canvas for vignettes that need to be stitched together by introducing a new Conann. He ultimately acts as the instigator for change but revels in the violence deemed inevitable in Conann’s fate. He plays within each generation of Conann, as does Mandico, shifting genres while keeping the general tone in line with Rainer. While not all the vignettes are as effective as others, there is always a moment of philosophical stimulation or some intellectually engaging concept that Mandico voices through Rainer and lands to great effect.
What is most evocative of Mandico’s films is that they never feel stylish for no reason. His works are meant to provoke audiences but place visuals hand-in-hand with their more thought-provoking ideas. She is Conann is no exception and is perhaps the most interesting of his filmography as he delves into an interrogation of artistic endeavours and the weight identity plays in forming that art. An almost supernatural atmosphere leaves She is Conann with a remarkably astute observation on how that art feeds into legacy, as generations experience new horrors and pleasures that dictate who they will become. While its weirdness and particularly violent wavelength may be a struggle for some, Mandico has crafted a delightfully macabre philosophical exploration of the artistic process with a stylish backbone and brutal imagery.
