If there was a Guinness award for amassing the largest collection of POV shots in a single feature length film, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" most likely would have secured a spot in its new edition. The French have always been innovative filmmakers, and Julian Schnabel's ("Basquiat") third feature, which is based on a true story, is no exception. From the bulk of what I've viewed, "Diving Bell" is a well executed, original melodrama that keeps the viewer watching, which, for any film, is automatically a success.
The film opens with jerky, staccato slide show credits in an array of colors, and the audience subsequently finds themselves virtually inside the protagonist's (Jean-Dominique, former real life editor of Elle Magazine) head. The exposition comes in to disperse the cloud of confusion in the form of a long, intermittently out of focus first person perspective view, in which doctors forgo the difficult and uncomfortable job of enlightening our unfortunate hero with the horrific state of the union. He has suffered a stroke, and in a freak, rare occurrence, fell victim to the worst possible state of paralysis, dubbed "locked in syndrome". Our protagonist's brain is fully aware and functional, though he is physically paralyzed from head to toe; the only thing he can do is blink his right eye (I was hard-pressed to imagine that someone could be in a worse state than Christopher Reeve was). The filmmakers employ innovative, yet simple film techniques for certain actions behind the perspective of Jean, i.e., the camera shutter going in and out to represent Jean's very important single ability to blink his eye. In one creative and well executed sequence, Jean's one bum eye (which has the inability to close, thus enabling the inexorable danger of it completely drying out) is sewn shut by a doctor, and the perspective is from just behind the eyelid (as if a tiny, hidden camera was fixed deep into the eye socket of the main character) and we see the both the upper and lower lids sewn together in an awfully convincing manner.
The Diving Bell occasionally cuts away to flashbacks, which are not in the first person, and the only time we get a clear image of the protagonist pre accident. His being a former successful and handsome man only serves to enhance the dramatic punch and emotional impact of his abysmal state of being. The internal dialogue of this (rightfully so) cynical and sarcastic man who is admirably able to maintain a wry sense of humor at times is often entertaining and revealing. And the subtle personality nuances that are executed via basic camerawork, i.e, the use of the tilt to reflect Jean's wandering point of focus, with the camera tilting down towards the comely nurse's buxom as she is bent over in front of him, help further envelop us into Jean's psyche. People (especially males) would definitely be able to empathize with his frustration and plight. A man at his most helpless, pride-deprived and inadequate; how do you go on? The picture is an existential drama that (for the most part) manages to avoid the cliches of the "perseverance of the soul amidst extraordinary obstacle" type film. Its emotional punch and audience-hooking ability is undeniable, particularly during the intimate scenes between the nurse with the heart of gold who utilizes a clever letter/blink system as a means of communicating with Jean. I have not seen the film in its entirety, but without a doubt was left wanting more, an accomplishment on the part of the filmmakers considering their choice of shooting nearly the entire picture in first person perspective, was a risky and unorthodox one at best.
