Pacifiction: Warning, Three Hours of Vague Polynesian Intrigue May Cause Exasperation

By Thom Ernst

Rating: B-

At first glance, the title of director Albert Serra’s latest film could be mistaken as Pacification. The actual title—assuming you are as easily misled by frontal lobe word processing as I am—is Pacifiction. Pacific + fiction.

Pacific because the action (“action” is used charitably) occurs on a French Polynesian Island. And fiction because of the uncertain realities of the characters involved. At least that is what I have been able to glean from Serra’s ponderous and yet engaging, overlong drama.

Just another work day for Polynesian diplomats in Pacifiction.

The plot involves a High Commissioner (adeptly performed with low-key interaction bordering on apathy by Benoît Magimel) whose prestige appointment is marred by rumours of impending government nuclear testing.

There is also on this island a visiting a Portuguese Ambassador (Alexandre Melo) - whose lost passport suggests there may be some nefarious political dealings going on - plus a host of local island advocates and residents. Pahoa Mahagafanau is a stand-out as the androgynous Shannan, a seemingly unlikely confidant and trusted ally to several political figures.

A submarine just off the coast of the island fuels the Commissioner’s concerns. Sailors (submariners, if you prefer) and their Admiral (Marc Susini) show up regularly at Morton’s, an island nightclub staffed by scantily clad Polynesians—male and female and non-gender specific.

It’s also the haunt of many a diplomat, the Commissioner included. Sexual politics seem to be part of an on-going game at Morton’s but nothing, as with everything in Serra’s film, is confirmed.

Serra admits to being vague. He’s reluctant, in an act of artistry rather than defiance, to reveal anything of the plot or character motivation. The technique, however effective it may be to some, threatens to exasperate those intimidated by a film that clocks close to three hours.

It certainly is counter-intuitive to a film that claims to be a thriller—which Pacifiction is not. It’s barely an espionage film. But to be clear, neither label is necessarily endorsed by the director. Does Serra even think in terms of genres? If so, I could not begin to assume to which genre his loyalties lie.

Pacifiction offers more in the way of visuals than in substance but only if we define substance as story. Serra captures an unforgettable moment of pontoon boats riding the swells and crests of waves, the reflection of the sun crystalizing on the cobalt-blue surface.

There are other scenes too; a postcard perfect image of a church at sunset, dwarfed by mountains, mist, and jungle. It’s the film’s visuals rather than its story that lifts it from the doldrums of artistic affectations.

Eventually—and by eventually, I mean at the two-hour mark—the film plays out its hand revealing, if not motive or intent, at least the emotional weight placed on its characters.

Here, paranoia previously only hinted at comes to roost, and a few other guesses you might have been making along the way are confirmed or denied. But none of that really constitutes a payoff. Pacifiction is a movie to experience. In the end, it’s all an analogy between politics and nightclubs and the assumption (fiction?) of power and persuasion.

But that’s my guess. Your guess is as good as mine. And to that effect, ours is as good a guess as even Serra is willing to offer. 

Pacifiction is directed by Albert Serra and stars Benôit Magimal, Marc Susini, Alexandre Melo and Pahoa Mahagaanau.  Pacifiction opens Friday at the TIFF Bell Lightbox, and various cinemas across Canada.