Julian Schnabel’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly had a pretty remarkable head start in becoming an incredible biopic; its subject is former French Elle magazine editor Jean-Dominique Bauby (Mathieu Amalric), who suffered a stroke at the age of 43 and found himself consequently paralyzed by the extremely rare “locked in syndrome.” Unable to move any part of his body, short of his left eyelid, Bauby learned how to communicate by blinking, and thus formed the words he used to write his memoir, the inspiration for this movie. Bauby’s book centers on his memories, his relationships, and his imaginary life contrived from the confines of his wheelchair. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is its creators’ attempt to bring Bauby’s world to life.

Indeed, this is a movie about a man in a wheel chair – but that’s it; The Diving Bell and the Butterfly falls short of being a film about a real man, a well rounded, complex character complete in his past, present, and future. Just because Bauby isn’t able bodied doesn’t mean his personality isn’t full bodied; the movie cops out of exploring his character by sensationalizing the actor’s palsied face instead of delving deep into his inner dialogue.

There is very little insight into Bauby’s life before his affliction and this omission is the death of the film. Much of this movie is jam packed with scenes between Bauby and the crucial figures of his life -the mother of his children, his father, his other lover- yet the interactions between these characters is filled with emotion that isn’t grounded in any event. Bauby seems to have a somewhat off-putting relationship with his father, yet nothing is revealed about the source of their out of sorts. It’s pretty evident that Bauby had been a chronic womanizer (he never marries the woman who gives him three children and he has affairs with other women) yet we never get a good glimpse into the real ineffectiveness of his relationships. Simply put, the movie is filled with useless flashbacks that tell us nothing about its main figure. Sure there’s a lot of drama and a good deal of very well produced tears, but why should any of us care about crying characters we know nothing about?

I didn’t buy one thing about Bauby’s transition from the editor of Elle magazine to a wheel chair bound, immobile dependant. It seems from the second he learns about his condition he becomes a sheer cynic, musing to himself wryly about the nuisance of having his butt wiped by attendants and his television channel controlled by doctors. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly looks like it tried to be raw and real in its portrayal of paralysis by showing us ample amounts of uncontrolled saliva and some underwater scrub tub shots of Bauby’s balls. But, really, Butterfly is pretty bland in its take on what must be the sheer terror of locked in syndrome. Bauby never looses it; he never panics; he never really wants to end it all. At least to this film critic, a little bit of desperation would have been absolutely requisite in making this a convincing film.

Nevertheless, the cinematography is really quite lovely; the lighting is soft and fluttery and there is much beauty is the unique perspective the camera discovers. Bauby’s range of vision is limited to what is directly in front of him and often this restriction garners more beautifully sighted compositions than one could possibly discover deliberately. But while Butterfly is a sufficient visual treat, it does nothing to stimulate the mind or stir the heart.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com