Two arcs propel Joachim Lafosse's remarkable Our Children. The most obvious and significant is the heroine Murielle's decline from a beautiful, loving, young spirit to a depressed, oppressed, despairing drudge. She proves the dictum, Biology is destiny. From her honeymoon through her four child bearings she loses her sense of self, her liberty, her control over her life. Her last action is her tragic resolve to save her three daughters and one son from their being ruined by the sexist, patriarchal system that destroyed her. Unable to grant them liberty she gives them death. Though her Moroccan husband Mounir claims he doesn't want to raise his daughters in his sexist homeland, Murielle is destroyed by a European patriarch in Belgium.
Dr. Pinget provides the antithetic arc. His apparent generosity and care are gradually exposed as heartless self-serving power and authority. Having married a young Moroccan woman, he leaves her in her homeland but brings one of her brothers, then eventually the other, to Europe variously to serve him. When his hopes to have Mounir join his medical practice are dashed, he hires him for office work. He pays for Mounir and Murielle's honeymoon, then agrees to join them. He shares his house with them, then to keep them buys them an estate where he again lives with them. His callousness towards Murielle drives her tragedy.
The tension between the Moroccan family and the fat, hedonistic, impotent but suffocatingly powerful white European doctor adds another compelling theme. This domestic tragedy is also a parable for European colonialism. The white power insinuates itself into its colony, funds it, wins its trust and affection, imposes its own culture, but for all its pretense of generosity and care insists on dominating it and imposing its will. Any move to independence is suppressed as an affront to nature and to reason. (The film's original French title is A Prendre la raison, or Insanity.) That ruthless power is what the male patriarchy shares with the European colonial tradition.
The film opens with a woman crying, begging that her four children be buried in Morocco. So it's a whodunit. Except here the killer is the true victim. For more see www.yacowar.blogspot.com.
Dr. Pinget provides the antithetic arc. His apparent generosity and care are gradually exposed as heartless self-serving power and authority. Having married a young Moroccan woman, he leaves her in her homeland but brings one of her brothers, then eventually the other, to Europe variously to serve him. When his hopes to have Mounir join his medical practice are dashed, he hires him for office work. He pays for Mounir and Murielle's honeymoon, then agrees to join them. He shares his house with them, then to keep them buys them an estate where he again lives with them. His callousness towards Murielle drives her tragedy.
The tension between the Moroccan family and the fat, hedonistic, impotent but suffocatingly powerful white European doctor adds another compelling theme. This domestic tragedy is also a parable for European colonialism. The white power insinuates itself into its colony, funds it, wins its trust and affection, imposes its own culture, but for all its pretense of generosity and care insists on dominating it and imposing its will. Any move to independence is suppressed as an affront to nature and to reason. (The film's original French title is A Prendre la raison, or Insanity.) That ruthless power is what the male patriarchy shares with the European colonial tradition.
The film opens with a woman crying, begging that her four children be buried in Morocco. So it's a whodunit. Except here the killer is the true victim. For more see www.yacowar.blogspot.com.