Review: Suspended Time

At first, Suspended Time appears to be Olivier Assayas working in his more pedestrian mode, à la Non-Fiction and Summer Hours. These are solidly made but quieter and largely conventional films, as opposed to the more daring work of Personal Shopper, Clouds of Sils Maria, and Irma Vep. Yet Assayas surprises partway through Suspended Time; what initially looks like a more traditional narrative shifts into a combination of fiction and nonfiction. Up until now, we have been embedded with two brothers and their partners sequestered in a country house in the early days of COVID, with brief nostalgic interludes across the property offered through narration. Then the film shifts from color to black and white, and the voiceover is the French filmmaker speaking as himself about his own experiences, before switching back to the siblings’ arguments over pandemic protocols. 

Even before that revelation, Suspended Time appears to have elements of autobiography in its story. Our protagonist Paul Berger (Vincent Macaigne) is a former film critic and current director. He is spending the COVID spring of 2020 at his childhood home in the idyllic Chevreuse Valley in France. In addition to his girlfriend Carole (Nora Hamzawi), who makes documentaries, he is joined by his music critic brother, Etienne (Micha Lescot) and his girlfriend Morgan (Nine d’Urso). With their parents gone for over a decade, childhood memories still creep into their daily lives, and the men find themselves at odds with their approach to risk with limited, ever-evolving guidance about staying healthy. Paul is COVID cautious to the point of leaving delivered perishables outside in the spring warmth for hours until the danger has presumably passed, while Etienne shrugs off the perils of the pandemic in favor of avoiding breaking the cold chain. He’s neurotic in other ways, making the same dish on repeat.

Not much happens here, other than some brotherly bickering, but Suspended Time is mordantly funny at times. Assayas’ screenplay offers trenchant observations about the pandemic experience, and it doesn’t shy away from commentary on the relative ease for some (aka those who could escape to a family home surrounded by acres of nature). Yet it still acknowledges the stress inherent in a global crisis that leaves everyone stuck in the same place with the same people, every day. It notes the contrast between the uncertainty and fear of that time, while also heralding the benefits of getting to spend more time away from the chaos of humanity in the gentle beauty of the natural world. It’s philosophical in a way that you’d expect from a French director (especially this French director), and there’s plenty of conversation about art and literature.

Suspended Time sometimes feels like you’re quietly observing a dinner party, where you don’t really know anyone other than the host — and maybe you’re okay with that. Other than a few fights over the right way to behave when no one knows anything, the conversational rhythms of these strangers are gentle enough to lull you to sleep. Paul and Etienne are well-drawn (and well-played, especially by Non-Fiction’s Macaigne), but the limit for the amount of time you’d want to spend with them is probably a dinner party, rather than months of isolation. Their girlfriends’ characters are less built out. Even though we’re stuck with them in this home for the 100-plus minutes of the film, they feel less like real people than their partners do.

Though its formal inventiveness briefly infuses it with energy, Suspended Time is largely a quiet, contemplative experience. In some scenes, that can feel like a lovely respite from the onslaught of quippy dialogue and CG in most movies. However, for the bulk of its runtime, the long cuts and lack of a real narrative thrust just have a somnambulant effect. Though living through the pandemic was a new experience in itself, most of our days lacked the type of novelty people crave. For better and worse, Suspended Time lives up to its title, feeling more like an exercise in how slowly minutes can pass than what we’ve come to expect from Assayas. 

“Suspended Time” is out Friday in limited release.

Kimber Myers is a freelance film and TV critic for 'The Los Angeles Times' and other outlets. Her day job is at a tech company in their content studio, and she has also worked at several entertainment-focused startups, building media partnerships, developing content marketing strategies, and arguing for consistent use of the serial comma in push notification copy.

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