Anatomy of a Fall review: Marriage, murder, mystery and courtroom misogyny
French director Justine Triet’s elegant courtroom drama, nominated for Oscars under five categories, can be used as a litmus test to check one’s internalised misogyny
A young student interviews German novelist Sandra Voyter (Sandra Hüller) at her home on a winter afternoon. An a-capella version of rapper 50 Cent’s song P.I.M.P blasts from the speakers. Sandra’s husband Samuel Maleski (Samuel Theis) is working in the attic where he is playing the song on full volume. Sandra is so agitated and uncomfortable with the music that she picks up a glass of wine and pours herself a drink, seemingly trying to cope with it.
Sandra hasn't finished the interview yet. The sexual tension between the young student and Sandra is palpable — the novelist wants to prolong the interaction, hopefully schedule another meeting with her in Grenoble. But the song grows louder with each passing second, its misogyny gets more abrasive by the minute, each second more aggressive than the last.
Sandra eventually cuts the interview short and the student departs. Her visually-challenged son Daniel (Milo Machado Graner) goes for a walk with his guide dog and when he returns home he discovers his father’s dead body, which has seemingly fallen from the attic.
Demonized by the court, and the public
What follows next is a courtroom drama where a woman tries to prove her innocence in a case where the odds are stacked against her. On the surface, there is no reason for one to not believe that Sandra didn’t murder her husband. She was in an unhappy marriage. She didn’t show obvious signs of grieving when he died.
She was seeing other women while she was with him, and most important of all, she held her husband accountable for his problematic actions, be it his lackadaisical approach towards their son Daniel which led to his vision loss or his failed attempt at being a successful writer.
Justine Triet crafts an elegant courtroom drama which can be used as a litmus test to check one’s internalized misogyny. At one point, the viewer is swayed into believing Sandra really is the murderer. Heck, even her lawyer Vincent (Swann Arlaud) doesn’t believe her entirely, neither does her son until he hatches an elaborate plan to discern if his father really died by suicide.
In the process of proving her innocence, Sandra is demonized by the court and the public. Her sexual history is discussed by the jury and her sexuality becomes a point of contention in the trial. The audio of her interview is played in full public view, with prosecutors commenting on whether Sandra was trying to ‘seduce’ the writer and if she slept with other women during the course of her marriage.
A commentary on biased criminal justice system
In a post Amber Heard-Johnny Depp world, Anatomy of a Fall shows the emotional trauma that the subjects of a publicized trial go through when private details of their life become fodder for the public. As the trial proceeds, grainy CCTV footage is played to ascertain the cause of death.
Dramatic reenactments of the incident take place in full public view as Sandra and her eleven-year-old son watch in horror. After a rough day at court, Sandra tells her son Daniel while he is asleep, “My love, I just want you to know that I am not a monster. Your father is my soulmate? How should I prove that?”
Closer to home, Anatomy of a Fall is strangely reminiscent of the Sushant Singh Rajput trial — not the one in the courtroom, but the one which unfolded for over six months on our TV screens where, much like the protagonist of the film, Rhea Chakraborty was demonized for her dating history, drug consumption and a rocky relationship with Rajput. While Sandra is accused of stealing her husband’s idea for a novel, Rhea was accused of ‘cozying up’ to Rajput for fame.
Anatomy of a Fall is as much a trauma capsule of Daniel’s pain as it is of Sandra.
Triet shows via Anatomy of a Fall just how biased the criminal justice system is against women. It is rigged to not believe them and requires a mountain of evidence from them to prove their innocence, especially if they don’t fit into the stereotypical image of a devoted wife. In the absence of evidence, any interpretation of the events can be used against them unless a witness testifies in their favour.
The insidiousness of systemic patriarchy
The film, which won the prestigious Palme d’Or and the Palm Dog Award and competed for the Queer Palm at 76th Cannes film festival, works well primarily because it gives out just enough details to keep Sandra in the eye of suspicion but also doesn’t completely rule out the possibility of a suicide.
Anatomy of a Fall is as much a trauma capsule of Daniel’s pain as it is of Sandra. The child is re-traumatized and then traumatized some more while he is made to witness the courtroom trial complete with uncomfortable details about his parents’ lives. While Sandra is stripped of her dignity and is humiliated in public view, Daniel loses his childhood and put through misery which is compounded by his vision loss.
The film allows viewers enough room to make their own guesses and reach a conclusion. The red herrings, like the flashback where Sandra and Samuel argue, are meant to throw the viewers off, allowing them to pathologize their relationship only to be proven wrong later.
Long after you are done watching the film, you are contemplating why you didn’t believe Sandra. Would it be easy to believe her if she fit into the societal gender norms? You are left wondering just how insidious systemic patriarchy is — how it colours one’s perceptions and doesn’t allow them to see the truth objectively.
Anatomy of a Fall is now playing in theatres