A Prophet (2009) * * *

More Niels Arestrup than you know what to do with

 

Whenever I see one of these acclaimed foreign films, I inevitably examine each scene's potential to appear in the Hollywood remake. Thus in France's A Prohpet, I was asking myself how future-remaker Neal H. Moritz (producer of the Fast & Furious movies) would render the intricacies of prison life. Would he have hard rock echoing down the halls a la The Departed? Would he favor action over low-key prison drama? Would he replace the Corsican/Arab dynamic with Aryan Brotherhood/Nation of Islam tension? Would the climactic shootout be discharged in favor of explosions, presumably as Main Bad Guy is about to escape the prison via a helicopter?

I can only think about these things for so long. My attention should really be on the film in front of me, not the American remake two or three years down the pipeline. So eventually I shake those thoughts out of my head and get back to the subtitles. But don't let my waning attention lead to believe A Prophet is a boring film: for most of its two and a half hours, the movie is an enthralling look at the inner workings of a French prison.

The DVD packaging of A Prophet (or Un Prophète as it's said in French) takes pains to compare the movie to The Godfather, but perhaps that would make more sense if The Godfather was set in Sing Sing. Minus a half-dozen forays to the outside world, A Prophet takes place entirely in a bleak, colorless French prison, where a young Arab named Malik (Tahar Rahim) rises in the ranks of the criminal underworld. He starts off downright cheruibc: lanky and clean-shaven and sporting a buzz cut, and you see him and say to yourself this young man will not last long.

I'm proud of that left arm but not the ear

A Corsican mobster (Niels Arestrup) spots his prey and presses Malik into his service. But before he can come under the protection of Arestrup's criminal gang, he must perform a terrible deed for them: kill a fellow inmate. The lead-up to this act is haunting, as Malik anguishes over what's to come; the act itself is easily the most effective scene in the movie, as shocking as anything that has come or will come out of Hollywood. You will cringe, and you won't be able to get the image out of your mind.

What comes next is the rest of Malik's life, as he moves up in the prison underworld. The film takes place through his eyes, but we the audience are treated to his physical and moral transformation. Rahim is excellent as he morphs Malik from an ignorant street boy to an expert on this cutthroat world. He grows hair, gains muscles, and develops a ruthless glare with his eyes. At various times he is haunted by the specter of the first man he kills, and these scenes are great ones, because Rahim does not overdo his reactions to the visions and the director does not overplay their campiness. The ghost visitations could have been portrayed with an over-the-top Jacob Marley vibe, but these are not. I don't know if a Hollywood film would even dare try such a thing.

The best scenes are either dreamlike or actual dreams: the specters of Malik's first murder, a premonition featuring deer jumping on a country road, and a trip to an airport where Malik, dressed in a suit on a mission for Arestrup, gawks at all the "normal" people going about their business. As someone tells Malik, "you straddle two worlds," but gradually we see that he can only thrive in one.

Unfortunately, A Prophet suffers from the trappings of many mob movies. I have seen many a complicated plot in my day, filled with murky relationships, double dealings, and secondary mobster characters who exist to be whacked. As hard as I tried, I couldn't tell at times who was trying to kill who or why the heroin was going here instead of there. Whenever criminals fight each other and names like Marcaggi and Lingherri are tossed around, my mind starts to wander, and I can't help but think that writers like to tie complicated relationships like this together just so they can unravel messily.

Director Jacques Audiard said that he hoped A Prophet would "create icons" for his audience, particularly for minorities who are much less visible in French cinema. My own belief is that Audiard's plan is noble, but he's going about it in the wrong direction. Why should we look to create a French Scarface, or an Arab Michael Corleone? You can make an enjoyable movie about an antihero, but you shouldn't aim to have them emulated. I fear that when Malik is filmed strutting around prison in slow motion, to a pop standard, that's the direction we're headed. And you can be sure Hollywood won't skimp with the mob glorification, they'll just toss in an explosion or two to make it different.