NYFF Report: Poignant and Powerful, 'Eden' Charts the Rise and Fall of a French Club Music Scene
Félix de Givry, seen here with Pauline Etienne, plays a garage-music DJ in ‘Eden’
Biopics depicting the tumultuous life and times of a musical legend are a dime a dozen—think Ray, Walk the Line and Walk Hard. But Eden is the rare biopic that traces the arc of entire musical genre, in this case “garage music,” a subset of European electronica. Seeping out of the early-’90s club scene, garage quickly spread all over the continent, finding a particularly receptive raver audience in France. But, as with many a quickly exploding genre, garage inevitably reached its sell-by date and was promptly replaced by the next new beat on the block.
In Eden, director Mia Hansen-Løve recounts the story of garage, from its euphoric opening notes to its mournful fade-out, through the experiences of her own brother, Sven (who co-wrote the movie with his sibling), a successful garage DJ back in the day. Sven’s stand-in Paul (Félix de Givry) begins the film as an ordinary club-goer, eventually teaming up with his carrot-topped pal Stan (Hugo Conzelmann) to launch their own electronica outfit, Cheers. A handful of early gigs and a scruffy, homemade album leads to chance encounters with different promoters, producers and fellow DJs (including a pair of dweebs calling themselves Daft Punk…yes, that Daft Punk, who don’t appear in the film, but did allow Hansen-Løve access to their music), which in turn, opens up doorways to radio airplay and high-profile club dates. In a few years’ time, Cheers is the toast of the Paris garage scene. Even with this success, Paul still has to borrow money from his mom to feed his wicked cocaine addiction, while his love life remains on a perpetual roller coaster, as he bounces from the bed of visiting American Julia (Greta Gerwig) into the arms of no-nonsense Louise (Pauline Etienne), followed by the chilly embrace of ambitious model, Margot (Laura Smet).
On a storytelling level, Eden isn’t exactly unique to its genre, with Paul’s journey more or less following the same rise-and-fall arc of any traditional music biopic. The way it follows that arc, though, is something of a departure, with Hansen-Løve allowing the narrative to drift along at the dreamy, yet still propulsive beat of a vintage garage track. She also avoids the usual histrionic meltdowns in favor of a more casual approach in presenting how Paul repeatedly undermines his own chances at professional success and personal happiness. Aside from an ending that strains a bit too much for profundity, Eden rarely strikes a false beat during its two-hour runtime.
Photo credit: @NYFF
