“Summer Hours”, and What Follows After

Jeongrak Son reviews Oliver Assayas’ film, Summer Hours (2008), about a family dealing with the aftermath of a loved one’s loss.

Summer Hours (2008) starts with a family gathering at Hélène’s house, celebrating her 75th birthday. Three generations — Hélène, her three children (Frédéric, Adrienne, and Jérémie) and their spouses, and Hélène’s grandchildren — spend good family time.  The house is full of artworks, some of which even Musée d'Orsay (a museum in Paris, France) wants. These are indeed typical Assayas protagonists: (upper) middle class, and cultured. The plot is rather simple, even mundane compared to other more eventful films. Hélène (Édith Scob) passes away at some point, and her children decide what to do with her collection and her house. Since Jérémie (Jérémie Renier) and Adrienne (Juliette Binoche) do not live in France anymore and keeping the house is not worth the trouble to them, they want to dispose of Hélène’s items. Frédéric (Charles Berling), who still lives in France, wants to keep them, but he does not have enough resources to buy his siblings out. They decide to donate some of the collections (to avoid heavy tax), sell the others, and also sell the house where they spent their childhood. A family secret is revealed along the way, but this also passes as a minor drama. 

The central theme throughout the film is how culture and possessions, even the very valuable ones like Art Nouveau furniture pieces, become obsolete, or at least antiquated, as time passes. Although it is a natural process of human civilisation, once you sympathise with those who are attached to the past, witnessing this change is heartbreaking. Summer Hours is greatly successful at this point. The one main character, or at least the one with the most screen time, is Frédéric, the eldest child of Hélène. Due to his age, lifestyle, or maybe just his personality, he is the one who is the closest and most attached to the old era. He is also one of the two most emotional characters, alongside Éloïse, a housemaid working in Hélène’s house, a person who actually belongs to the old era. The audience is driven to share the perspective of Frédéric: we understand other siblings’ circumstances but are still sad to accept that the collection, and everything connected to it, such as the house, memory, expectations we always had of our lives, and our posterities’, does not matter as much now. 

Nevertheless, the film does not just lament the ungrateful younger generation or the Americanisation that is turning French culture vulgar. Even Hélène, who devoted her whole life preserving the legacy of Paul Berthier, her uncle and later revealed to be her lover, understands that this legacy means almost nothing to her grandchildren. A cybernetic sculptor, who used to be well-known during his era and who probably was at the cutting edge of the art world, is now completely forgotten, without regret. The museum thus plays a special role in this film. At least the very best of the past era can be kept somewhere with respect, albeit without the emotional attachments or meaningful interaction that Hélène might have with them. Recalling that this film was initiated as a short film celebrating Musée d’Orsay and studying the ‘life cycle of artworks’, Hélène’s death and her funeral parallel the exhibition of her collection at the Orsay. 

Another point that this film executes exceptionally well is to refrain from overly dramatic bursts of emotions. The way they introduce Hélène's death is surprisingly dry. Hélène packs her stuff and fades out; it looks like an ordinary day in her life. In the next scene, Frédéric is interviewed by a radio show, worrying about his book’s reception from people. His next schedule, however, turns out to be a meeting with a guy to discuss the cemetery arrangement for his mother, who died less than a week ago. After a loved one’s death, we surely have emotional turmoil, but there are also practical matters that need to be handled rationally, e.g. cemetery arrangements and inheritance. The second half of the film portrays these not-very-glamorous aspects with nuanced acting, without explosive arguments and crying. The scene where the family finally decides to sell the collection and the house is extremely powerful, without needing Marriage Story-like shouting.

Frédéric assumes that his siblings would also want to keep the house and the collection. Jérémie explains his circumstances and the tension develops, yet everyone is still perfectly reasonable and civil. Adrienne announces that she will get married to her boyfriend, and the tension relaxes temporarily, relieving everyone for a moment. However, it means that Adrienne also does not want to keep the house and the collection. Frédéric slowly realises, and accepts the decision. This is one of the most realistic illustrations of a tough discussion for grown-ups that I have seen in film. 

The film ends with one of Hélène’s grandchildren and her friend running away. They will enjoy their time, maybe produce some great artwork on the way, and eventually end up being enclosed in a coffin or a museum. It is sad, but we can accept that like grown-ups.

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