“While we may not have had the life we thought we would have had when we arrived, we loved it here”

Life is full of surprises – it is not a linear journey, but rather one with several twists and turns, most of which take us to places (whether physically or emotionally) that we never expected to find, which can be both enthralling and intimidating depending on how much one is willing to embrace the unpredictable nature of existence. This is the starting point for Mikhaël Hers when he set out to make The Passengers of the Night (French: Les Passagers de la nuit), a beautifully gentle and deeply moving examination of the human condition and its many unexpected aspects. Set over roughly seven years that stretch the majority of the 1980s, the film tells the story of Élisabeth, a middle-aged mother of two teenagers who has endured considerable challenges in her life, including familial strife and health issues, which have led her to seek out a job at a late-night radio show to which she would regularly listen as one of the proverbial “passengers of the night”, which eventually becomes an outlet for her chronic insomnia and a solution for her unemployment, as well as the place where she meets a troubled teenager who eventually integrates herself into Élisabeth’s family. A beautifully complex and quietely detailed exploration of someone who is questioning not only her own place in the world, but the entire meaning of life, The Passengers of the Night is a fascinating character study anchored by tremendous performances and a genuine sense of curiosity that comes from a director who is actively interested in unravelling the secrets of the human condition, using this small but impactful story as the foundation for a genuinely moving investigation into the past and the people who occupied it, which makes for profoundly compelling viewing, especially when driven by such an authentic vision, helmed by a director whose attention to detail and willingness to utilize a more simple approach culminates in an affecting glimpse into the human condition, as seen through the eyes of someone who encountered many obstacles on her way to realizing that the route to self-acceptance and inner peace does not have a single route, but rather requires us to traverse many different avenues along the way.

The Passengers of the Night is a strong example of how a very simple concept can be rendered as deeply complex through how it is executed. Purely based on the premise, you would expect that this would be a straightforward drama, one that is slightly conventional but in a way that is at the very least pleasant but not all that consequential. However, once we see the direction in which it intends to move, we realize that the director had broader intentions, which aid in elevating it beyond being a traditional drama, instead allowing it to flourish into something much more profound. Hers has a very intriguing approach to the narrative process – he chooses a relatively solid concept for the film, and adheres to the storyline without needing to depend on abstraction or anything out of the ordinary – and once this conceptual framework has been established (and we have a general idea on what the film will be exploring), he is able to become slightly more experimental, albeit only in how the story is delivered. This involves a few risks, primarily one in which we don’t learn much about these characters at the start, but rather we find ourselves becoming familiar with them gradually as the film progresses. Outside of a few brief statements on their general ambitions and aims at the start, there isn’t much exposition behind these characters, and instead the details are unearthed gradually, usually coming about in conversation. This may seem like a very small and unnecessary detail to draw attention towards, but it creates a very distinct atmosphere, where we are observing a few moments in the lives of these characters, and where all the most impactful content occurs off-screen, in those ambigious spaces between scenes that often harbour the most intriguing details. Information comes about organically through conversation and moments of quiet introspection, which can give the film a slightly aloof tone, but one that makes the occasional emotional catharsis all the more relieving, Not many films can be propelled by mood and still feel so complex in their characterization, but The Passengers of the Night is a well-constructed drama that knows exactly what it aims to achieve with each of its characters, which gives depth to even the most abstract of moments scattered throughout the film.

Considering how deeply intertwined this story is with its characters, almost to the point where it is entirely symbiotic, The Passengers of the Night depended on its actors to bring the story to life, the entire plot hinging on their ability to be authentic and convince us to accompany them on this disquieting but captivating journey. Charlotte Gainsbourg has not always been the strongest actor – she is certainly not lacking in talents, but most of her best work has come in slightly more experimental work, which usually depends less on her dramatic abilities and more on her willingness to take risks, in terms of both emotion and physicality, which has made her a muse for the likes of Lars Von Trier and Gaspar Noé, who have developed strong working relationships with her over the course of her career. It is rare for us to find her delivering a performance that is built on her acting skills on their own, but in this instance, we are often reminded of her talents. This film contains one of her very best performances, and while we cannot pretend like she was the only person who could have played this role, she does embrace the part and develops the character extremely well. Gainsbourg is not always known for the warmth in her performances, and this film manages to balance that slightly aloof, off-kilter persona with a character that is truly quite fascinating – a woman who wants to be a good mother and member of society but is frequently the victim of her own insecurities and the weight of the past, which she carries like a crippling burden that prevents her from being entirely liberated from her previous trauma, which makes the few moments where she is able to abandon these inhibitions and celebrate her own femininity and individuality so captivating. She is joined by a terrific supporting cast, all of whom are carefully chosen for their ability to construct characters that are meaningful and intriguing while avoiding becoming archetypes. Even the characters that exist on the periphery are three-dimensional and fully formed, creating a scenario in which we are actively engaged with their journeys, even when they are not the focus. The story of Élisabeth is just one of a myriad of lives that populate Paris, and while she is the focus, we are never led to believe that she (nor any of the other characters) have lives that are any more worth exploring than others, almost as if we stumbled into their daily routine by accident, peering voyeuristically into their everyday lives.

It is in these beautiful performances that we find most of the complexity of The Passengers of the Night, which is a film that depends primarily on how it characterizes the people that occupy the story. It isn’t so much a matter of focusing on the performances themselves (which are uniformly very good), but rather on the kinds of individuals that they represent. They are ordinary people, Parisians from different generations that are reflecting on the past as they move rapidly towards the future – the film doesn’t fixate on anything for longer than necessary, and refuses overt sentimentality unless it is absolutely vital to the story, which is very rarely the case here, as everything that makes the film so compelling can be found in those moments of forthright humanity, rather than needing to be delivered through outwardly stating what the audience should be feeling with this material. The very simple approach allows the characters to take on a far more nuanced meaning, as well as allows the film to make use of the most gentle, evocative emotions, which are perfectly appropriate to the tone of the film, which is much more ethereal and fluid than we may have initially have expected. We move through this story with a sense of flexibility, with the easygoing but deeply meaningful execution creating a memorable atmosphere that is both enticing and emotionally quite impactful, without needing to resort to heavy-handed examinations of tragedy or suffering. Everything is proclaimed in as simple and straightforward a manner as possible, which makes it feel as if we have reached a major breakthrough with these characters, accompanying them on their metaphysical journey as they relay their individual pasts, as well as their innermost existential quandaries, which are primarily what we are most interested in seeing throughout this film, especially in how they overcome their interpersonal conflicts and internal struggles in order to give themselves the conclusion they desire – happy endings are possible, but they are usually just a pleasant resignation to the fact that life is not always predictable, and that we can only achieve it through ensuring our own inner peace, since life does not offer us the resolution that we may anticipate, or perhaps even hope to encounter.

The Passengers of the Night is very distinct in how it approaches a lot of its material, and Hers takes on several profoundly fascinating themes with a firm commitment to capturing a vibrant and moving depiction of the human condition, at least in how he sees it, which is extremely compelling and filled with sincerity, which may seem like the bare minimum, but is something we have started to see less frequently in modern cinema. This is a very challenging film that takes several small but impactful risks, not necessarily in terms of the narrative (which is kept quite simple and straightforward, avoiding convoluted plot developments or focusing on unnecessary points of conversation), but rather in the character-based details, which are the primary source for many of the film’s most interesting moments. It never seems to be focusing on doing more than is necessary, nor showing anything that doesn’t contribute to its wider conversation on certain themes.  It is a beautifully poetic film, one that is frequently very funny and undeniably heartfelt, and its extraordinary perspective on the human condition is unmatched. It creates such a beautifully enticing atmosphere, one that is simultaneously celebratory and melancholic, and finds the perfect balance between the two as it goes about exploring the world through the eyes of these fascinating characters. It never feels like it is forcing a particular narrative on the viewer, and instead we find ourselves being invited to accompany these characters as they voyage through life, destined to remain on a road without any clear directions, moving towards an inevitable fate that could come at any moment, while being presented with a binary choice: either fear for what is waiting around the corner, or simply enjoy the ride while it lasts – and the ideal choice is nothing if not obvious.