Trapped

There are few films that are truly awe-inspiring. This is one of them. Capturing both the weighty claustrophobia of the diving bell and the fanciful flight of the butterfly, it embodies the essence of Jean-Dominique Bauby's remarkable memoir 'Le Scaphandre et le papillion' ('The Diving Bell and the Butterfly').

Bauby, the editor of French Elle, suffered a 'massive stroke' at the age of 43, which left him completely paralysed except in his left eye. Perfectly cognisant, but suffering from 'locked-in syndrome', Bauby's mind is trapped in the useless cage of his body.

His only means of communicating is through blinking. Yes: one blink. No: two blinks. That is until his speech therapist devises a tedious system whereby he can pick out individual letters of the alphabet and spell out words. Using this system he spells out an entire book.

Although the film is French, it is directed by American artist-turned-director Julian Schnabel ('Before Night Falls'), who manages — with the help of cinematographer Janusz Kaminski — to capture Bauby’s sense of disorientation, claustrophobia and helplessness by filming from his perspective. The audience is literally in Bauby’s eye as he wakes up from a coma (focus is blurred, obscured, blinding); as he has his right eye stitched closed to prevent infection; and as he tries to communicate.

This technique is finely balanced with flashbacks, imaginary wonderings and the more traditional third person perspective, so that it doesn't become too oppressive and so that the audience can appreciate the freedom which Bauby's mind affords him. The cinematography is artistic, beautiful and at the same time filled with a gritty realism that is absent in Hollywood blockbusters.

Machieu Almaric ('Munich') is a convincing pre-stroke Bauby, but his paralysed Bauby is brilliant — his body a broken shell, his face paralysed in a distorted grimace, Almaric still manages to convey anguish, passion, love and pain with his over-worked left eye.

While the resilience of the human spirit is central to this biopic, it is also a tribute to the human capacity to care. Despite his shortcomings, Bauby is surrounded by carers — the mistreated mother of his children Celine (Emmanuelle Seiger), his children, his speech therapist Henriette (Marie-Josee Croze), his physiotherapist Marie (Olatz Lopez Garmedia), friends and his father (Max von Sydow).

Hauntingly beautiful, poignant, triumphant and lifted throughout by Baudy's wry sense of humour, this film manages to make an impression on your soul without being manipulative, formulaic or didactical.