狼族盟约

R.I.P. Émilie Dequenne (1981-2025), the brilliant Belgian and the recipient of Best Actress award at Cannes for her first acting gig in Dardenne brothers' Palme d'or winner ROSETTA, has sadly succumbed to a rare cancer at a young age of 43. Dequenne is endowed with a superb knack for disappearing into a role, making her performances feel both instinctually naturalistic and uninhibitedly expressive. After ROSETTA catapults her status as a promising young thespian, her follow-up, Christophe Gans' BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is an authentic Gallic blockbuster. A lush, genre-mashing period epic where Dequenne takes on a smaller but still intriguing part cannot be more different from the one in ROSETTA ROSETTA is a stripped-down, bare-bones exposé of underclass subsistence. It’s not trying to charm or entertain, but to make audience feel something real but also too close for comfort, regarding poverty, misery and struggle with no buffer between spectators in cushy seats and the relentless hardship on show. In short, a poverty porn in its most effective and acute fibers. The plot follows our titular heroine, a teenager living in a dreary caravan park with her alcoholic mother (Yernaux), scraping by on the edge of the society. Her sole hope is to find a stable job, and the only way to achieve that turns out to be a cruel zero-sum game, to heartlessly betray the kindness of Riquet (Rongione), a coworker who befriends her and throw him under the bus, especially after that cardinal scene where Rosetta hesitates while Riquet falls into the murky lake, flailing, in real danger of drowning. Rosetta's longer-than-it-is hesitation is brutal. It’s not cinematic suspense but ethical discomfort. The camera traces her face, and we can see the storm inside her: should she help him or not? And what’s devastating is that, for a few long seconds, she leans toward not. Not because she hates him, or because she’s evil, but because she’s desperate, beaten and exhausted. She knows that if he dies, the job at the waffle stand - the one lifeline she clings to - could be hers. This is one of the film’s most daring moves. The Dardennes refuse to protect Rosetta from her worst thoughts. They let her hover on the edge of some horrible thoughts: letting an innocent person die out of her personal economic desperation. It’s a moment that rips away any illusion of moral clarity. The world has taught Rosetta that survival is a ruthless game, that there is no room for compassion, only competition.But then she thinks better of it and rescues him. This action doesn't erase the hesitation. It doesn't redeem her in a neat way. But it does mark a crack in the hardened shell she's built around herself. It’s one of the few choices in the film that feels free - ungoverned by necessity, nor by the grim laws of a world where everything must be earned in pains. She chooses to save Riquet simply because, despite everything, a trace of moral instinct remains. That’s the genius of ROSETTA. It shows us that morality, especially in a world like that, is messy, costly, and sometimes even irrational. The fact that she nearly lets Riquet drown makes her human whereas the fact that she doesn’t makes her still worth rooting for. In a lesser film, this would be the redemptive climax. But Rosetta keeps going. It keeps grinding. The weight of survival doesn’t lift. But we, and Rosetta, are left with the memory of that decision - a moment when she could have been monstrous, and wasn’t. A reminder that even in the ugliest conditions, humanity clings on by its fingernails.The Dardennes’ approach is famously no-frills. Handheld cameras, natural lighting, and zero gloss over its milieu, a cinema-vérité style mixed with a stimulating guerrilla kinetics. The camera is almost invasive in how close it sticks to Rosetta, her face, her hands, her feet stomping through the mud. We barely get a second to breathe without being pulled into her smoldering rage and frustration of constantly getting the short end of the stick, her kept-to-herself tenacity, or the incessant pain from her period cramps. ROSETTA's focus on natural sound rather than a traditional score only adds to the Dardennes’ felicitous evocation of realism. The sound design focuses on the grating, everyday noises of Rosetta’s environs: the crunch of gravel under Rosetta’s boots, the droning noise of the factory where she briefly works, and the susurrus of the sylvan area where her digs are. No emotional manipulation through music - just the raw sounds from real life. There’s no color, no warmth. The film is washed out and gray. The caravan park itself feels like a cage - muddy, gray, and bleak. Even Rosetta herself looks drained of vitality, dressed in cheap, worn-out clothes. The Dardennes avoid any kind of aesthetic appeal because the film is meant to hit a raw nerve, exposing the underside of a developed Western country many folks refuse to acknowledge. Dequenne’s performance is all in the body language - tense shoulders, a clenched jaw, defensive eye contact. You can feel how much emotional energy it takes for Rosetta just to get through the day. She’s desperate to find stability, but also held back by her mother - a lush who cannot shake off her jones - who is as much a weight around her neck as the poverty they live in. Just when the film heads to a dismally tragic end, the Dardennes scores with a finale that is quietly devastating and, at the same time, subtly redemptive. Attempting ending her misery by turning on the gas, Rosetta strains to carry a gas canister - a heavy one - back to her trailer (for her, the bitter irony is that even suicide comes with a price tag). The canister is an obvious metaphor for the life-size burden she must grapple with. Then Riquet arrives on his moped, circling around her noisily, and she puts down the canister, finally cracks up. There’s the beginning of a tremor in her voice. She breathes heavily, perhaps for the first time in the whole film, and we can almost see her letting someone in.This ending is masterful for a few reasons. First, it’s ambiguous but emotionally clear. The film ends with an act of human decency. It signifies that even in a base, survivalist world, there might still be room for forgiveness, for solidarity, for connection. Secondly, it is a moral ending without being moralistic. In the end, Rosetta is not cheaply saved, but she pauses, and that pause is monumental. After 90 minutes of relentless motion, of trying to fix her life through sheer will, she finally stops. In that moment, something human is rekindled.It’s also important to recognize that the Dardennes are offering no easy solutions. Rosetta’s life won’t suddenly be all's well. But she’s no longer alone, and that small, stubborn act of mutual recognition with Riquet is enough to breathe life into a closing image that could otherwise have been hopeless. It tells us that while systems may fail, and institutions may be indifferent, individuals still have the power to break cycles - if only for a moment. It’s not a fairytale ending, but in the Dardennes' harsh universe, it might as well be a miracle.

If ROSETTA is hard-edged and minimalist, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is maximalist in every possible way. Gans’s film is a wild mix of period drama, creature horror, mystery thriller, and political intrigue, set during the Age of Enlightenment. It’s loosely inspired by the real-life legend of the Beast of Gévaudan - a mysterious creature that terrorized the rural French region. The story follows Grégoire de Fronsac (Le Bihan), a naturalist and royal agent, who is sent by the King to investigate the atrocious, almost supernatural killings attributed to the mythic beast. Fronsac is accompanied by Mani (Dacascos), an American Indian from the Iroquois tribe who has become his blood brother. As the pair digs closer to the truth, if laboriously (as the film is 2 and a half hour long), in time they will discover that the beast is not a natural creature but a secretively fashioned and controlled weapon, part of a political conspiracy to undermine the crown and exploit the growing unrest in the country. Eventually, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF comes through as a full-bore rampage on the clash between Enlightenment rationalism and religious superstition, as well as sending the sideswipes to the political manipulation of fear.Gans goes all-in on spectacle here. Lavish period costumes, huge set pieces, engaging fight scenes choreographed straight out of Hong Kong cinema, with slow-motion flips and swashbuckling flourishes. The creature itself is a blend of puppetry and animatronics (designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop), with CGI-assisted effects to smooth out the discrepancies. The beast looks both organic and unnatural, which gives it a genuinely unsettling quality. The film also has a kind of dark fairy-tale atmosphere - lots of shadows, candlelight, and ominous fog rolling over the countryside.Dacascos is the film's biggest secret weapon. On paper, Mani seems to be the stoic "noble savage" trope pasted into a racist Europe for flair. But Dacascos dodges that trap by grounding him in simmering intensity and spiritual presence that consistently turns heads. He's a man of few words, but every gesture speaks volumes. His stillness is as commanding as his movement, which brings a grace and precision to Mani’s fight scenes that feel balletic, fluid but also grounded, almost ritualistic, hinting at a connection to an otherworldly universe - a worldview shaped by nature, balance, and ancestral knowledge. His combat style contrasts sharply with the baroque violence of those French barbarians and the snarling chaos of the beast. There’s a discipline to Mani’s presence, something elemental.What’s perhaps most impressive is that how much non-verbal work Dacascos does. Mani isn’t given a lot of dialogue, but he communicates with expressions. There’s a palpable sense of history and pain behind his eyes - this is a man who has lost his homeland, who walks in a foreign place that sees him as alien, and yet he carries himself with calm authority. In a story that often critiques the Enlightenment’s hypocrisies - its tendency to proclaim rational order while hiding grotesque violence - Mani stands in for another kind of wisdom. He represents a form of knowledge that isn't written in books or debated in salons. He knows the forest, he respects the dead, he moves like a ghost through a land that doesn’t know what to do with him.There’s also the unspoken commentary that the film slips in with Mani's harrowing death: the outsider, the one most in tune with nature, is the one to be sacrificed. The moment Fronsac sees Mani's corpse, any pretense of diplomacy or rational investigation drops away, marks a turn in the story toward unrestrained chaos and vengeance. Dequenne plays Marianne de Morangias, the daughter of a local aristocrat, the apple of Fronsac's eyes. It’s a supporting role, but Dequenne makes her presence felt, she’s controlled and subtle, dutifully playing a damsel in distress within the formal confines of nobility.Cassel, as Marianne's brother Jean-François, carries himself like a man who believes in his own superiority - social, physical, intellectual - but there’s something rotten underneath, something festering. Cassel leans into that decay with delicious intensity. His facial expressions shift rapidly - from charming to menacing, from amused to dead-eyed. He’s magnetic precisely because he’s so unpredictable. There's a hint of the dandy villain about him, but it's twisted further by a creeping sense of obsession - particularly in his scenes with Dequenne, where the presence of a one-sided attraction gives their dynamic a faintly gothic, almost incest-drama-meets-werewolf-movie kind of vibe.Jean-François’s backstory - his injury, his time abroad, his missing hand—only adds to the mythologized weight of the character. And when it’s revealed that he’s behind much of the carnage and fearmongering, Cassel drops the mask completely and revels in the character’s moral unraveling. In full villain mode, he’s Shakespearean: arrogant, bitter, and fully convinced of his own right to dominate. It’s an over-the-top performance in all the best ways, perfectly matched to the film’s high-pulp sensibility.Then there is Cassel's then partner in life, Bellucci, as Sylvia, the impossibly glamorous Italian courtesan who becomes romantically entangled with Fronsac. At first, she seems like a stock femme fatale - witchy, sensual, aloof. But Bellucci knows how to play with that archetype, and slowly we begin to suspect there’s more to Sylvia than silk and smoky glances. And sure enough - there is. It’s a fun reversal that repositions her not as the seduced, but as the one in control. Bellucci plays the double role - lover and agent - with icy cool. She doesn’t overplay the reveal; instead, she lets Sylvia’s intelligence telegraph through minimal gestures, loaded silences, and strategic manipulation. What’s particularly effective is that Sylvia never drops her mystique, even after her motivations are revealed. She’s enigmatic to the end, a conduit of both desire and disillusionment. Bellucci keeps the tone just right - seductive, slippery, always a half-step out of reach.On the debit side, Le Bihan is a bit of a mixed bag here. He’s the official lead, the rational Enlightenment-era man of science turned reluctant warrior. While he looks the part - ruggedly handsome, well-costumed, and physically up to the task - his performance doesn't always match the theatrical hijinks or charisma of his co-stars. He delivers his lines with clarity, but rarely with the emotional punch or tension that the stakes seem to demand. It’s not that he’s bad, just a bit bland. Thankfully, when Fronsac is thrusted to be an avenging force in the third act, Le Bihan gets to show some piss and vinegar, his grief becomes palpable, a killing spree and a one-to-one throw-down that follow give him a chance to step out of his moral limbo and comport himself as a legitimate, rousing action hero.After all, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is a rare example of cinematic excess that somehow works precisely because of its contradictions. It’s overstuffed, tonally chaotic, and often ridiculous, but also bold, visually arresting, and completely unafraid to take risks. A handsome revenue (grossing over $70 million in worldwide theatrical release) is a meritorious reward. referential entries: Joachim Lafosse's OUR CHILDREN (2012, 6.7/10); Albert Dupontel's SEE YOU UP THERE (2017, 7.7/10); Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne's THE PROMISE (1996, 8.0/10), TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT (2014, 8.6/10). Title: RosettaYear: 1999Genre: DramaCountry: Belgium, FranceLanguage: FrenchDirectors/Screenwriters: Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc DardenneComposer: Jean-Pierre CoccoCinematographer: Alain MarcoenEditor: Marie-Hélène DozoCast:Émilie DequenneFabrizio RongioneOlivier GourmetAnne YernauxBernard MarbaixFrédéric BodsonFlorian DelainRating: 8.1/10

English Title: Brotherhood of the WolfOriginal Title: Le pacte des loupsYear: 2001Genre: Action, Horror, Adventure, Mystery, DramaCountry: France Language: French, Italian, GermanDirector: Christophe GansScreenwriters: Stéphane Cabel, Christophe GansComposer: Joseph LoDucaCinematographer: Dan LaustsenEditors: Xavier Loutreuil, Sébastien Prangère, David WuCast:Samuel Le BihanMark Dacascos Vincent CasselÉmilie DequenneJérémie RenierMonica BellucciJean YanneÉdith ScobJean-François StéveninBernard Farcy Jacques PerrinHans MeyerPhilippe NahonVirginie DarmonJohan LeysenJean-Loup WolffNicolas VaudeMichel PuterflamBernard FressonEric PratAndré PenvernGaspard UllielRating: 7.4/10

法国片子，我的vincent在里面演一个大反派！

我觉得情节挺紧凑的，故事也不错！

原谅我的颠三倒四，真的是看了很久了

第一次观看《狼族盟约》是在毕业后工作不久，那时仍处淘碟时代，街头的影碟店便如今天的沙县小吃或者兰州拉面。

有个同事是个中发烧友，向我极力推荐了此片。

一晃十年有余，故事轮廓业已淡漠，但影片神秘的氛围以及莫妮卡·贝鲁奇的惊鸿一瞥尚记忆犹新。

重观本片，予我最深刻的印象却换作了布景与服饰。

由于故事脱胎于十八世纪的法国真实事件，因而影片对当时服饰的还原度可谓精良。

那个年代正值法王路易十五统治时期，恰是洛可可风格被发扬光大的阶段，从装潢到家具、再到服饰，无不散发出纤美、精致、浮华、繁复的风格，就连片中的妓院也充满了宫廷般的脂粉气。

若论对享乐、艳情和肉欲的承载力，「洛可可艺术」当仁不让。

与女性化的轻巧和甜腻相对的，是来自神秘怪兽的恐怖威胁，两相对比，愈发凸显出吉瓦丹地区人民的柔弱与无助。

导演克里斯多夫·甘斯对神秘氛围的把握在此片中就已显山露水，五年后他更是神还原了经典的游戏《寂静岭》。

神秘不仅来源于怪兽，还有两个神秘的人物，一个是跟随男主法兰沙的印第安男仆马尼，非但身手矫健，还会些不明觉厉的秘术；另一个则是意大利妓女西尔维娅，莫妮卡·贝鲁奇完美诠释了神秘和冷艳，床笫间的她令人联想起法国画家布歇笔下的《躺在沙发上的奥达丽斯克》，丰满健美、曲线柔和，尽显致命的诱惑。

当然，她还有另一个不为人知的隐藏身份。

影片的前半部分云山雾罩，怪兽、村民、贵族、吉普赛人、还有法兰沙等外来客，令小小的吉瓦丹地区风云际会。

围绕着犹抱琵琶半遮面的怪兽，各派人物之间自然亦有一番勾心斗角，恐惧、猜忌、焦虑，再加上导演善于搞一些神秘莫测的蒙太奇，形成外有怪兽肆虐，内有尔虞我诈的局面，遂令悬疑加剧。

直到马尼冒死闯入一个地下墓穴并用生命的代价才换来了事件的冰山一角，所谓的怪兽非是天灾，实为人祸。

当地的神父萨迪西以及贵族让-弗朗索瓦秘密组建了一个兄弟会，并驯养改造了一只来自非洲的野兽（片中未点明，但应该是狮子），利用它制造惨案来逐步破坏人们对国王的信心，从而达到政治与宗教上的险恶目的。

事实上，历史的原貌简单得多，但导演加入了政治宗教的阴谋，让这一事件显得更加扑朔迷离，也和法国大革命前夕的动荡迷茫、暗潮涌动联系了起来。

《狼族盟约》格局上的大气细腻，服饰镜头上的精致考究都是值得肯定的地方，然而这些终究难以掩盖本片「形式大于内容」的缺憾——同样也是洛可可风格本身的命门。

影片杂糅了历史、宗教、恐怖、情色等元素，但毕竟贪多嚼不烂，何况导演过于注重神秘化、娱乐化的表现方式，以至于使得前两者不但没有起到增加作品厚重感的作用，反而彻底沦为附庸，不免有点可惜了。

可笑的法国贵族，让人作呕的法语，法国特色的乱伦，真是汇聚了能想到的所有法国垃圾，外加永远光明不起来的世界最大恐怖组织教廷。

唯一看的舒服的印第安小伙，操着明显的中国功夫，却不是法国货。

2个半小时……看完那个叫累啊，洗把脸，再把耳朵掏掏干净，delete，真浪费我时间。

不过开场两个人的立领风衣真是酷，就是海报上那个，相当酷。

这是我见过的相当漂亮的法国电影之一！

看的过程真的是一种视觉享受，听原声还是一种听觉享受，因为法语真的很好听。

还有就是，享受那种法国的浪漫主义爱情，浪漫的社会文化，等等这些都是这部优秀影片的可圈可点之处！

赞一个！！

法国大片总爱跟邪教 打交道，暗流1，2如此，此片也如此。

翻来覆去的就是强调人性的恶大于野兽的恶。

有点烦，另外也太长了点，好多地方不知所云。

为了避免剧透，我只说题外话。

故事发生在爆发法国大革命的三十多年之前，所以不难理解，此时的背景：罗马教廷，法国皇权以及不断发展壮大的新型贵族和资产阶级这三股势力之间的深刻矛盾。

本片里的主要角色几乎可以作为上述三种势力的agents，唯一显得另类的则是那个宛如小清新一般的印第安勇士，那淳朴的眼神，坚毅的表情，救死扶伤而又被人误解之后不屑于争辩的态度，干净利落的身手，独来独往又充满神秘的行为，他和男主角的关系恐怕不只是朋友那么简单。

其实作为从小被某种意识形态的历史观所灌输的人，我们可能从心底里认为或者说理解并支持着那些生活在社会底层的人们一定是遭受着地狱般的痛苦的说法，并且有理由去使用暴力的手段推翻这不平等的旧制度。

但是新的制度难道就能体现底层人们的全部意志么？

别做梦了。

作为生活在金字塔的最底层，那些人是麻木的，冷血的，无知的，是最容易被歪理邪说所煽动所迷惑的所利用的。

这也就不难解释，为什么每次变革中牺牲最多的是这种人，而分得到的利益最少的还是这种人，毋宁说他们的自身地位在任何暴力革命中都没有发生实质性的变化，作为工具的使命一旦完成，等待他们的就像那只剧中“野兽”一样的命运。

剧中反派好像说过，那只“野兽”是长生不死的，这好像也在暗示着什么。

尽量跳出带有自身阶级的深深烙印那种历史观，你是否会像我一样发现，A或B或C之间的矛盾，相似的说法就是利益冲突的时候，往往会寻找其agents,借由某种特定的带有鼓动性质的理由，拉大旗扯虎皮一般的堂而皇之的打击其对手，维护自己的利益。

想起来某人的话，原话记不得但大意是说：自由，有多少人假借汝之名而行而行恶之实。

这里“自由”两个字，我想可以用任何人类美好的欲望去替代。

打着高尚的名号，披着自由的外衣，利用宗教的手段，类似的排比句可以一直延伸。

下笔千言，离题万里，但终须一折，言归正传。

一部电影抑或是任何一部文学作品，最能吸引人的不是那些血雨腥风的恐怖情节，而是爱情的力量，让我们看到了光明和希望。

小小的电影装不下太多的内涵，但是爱情这个亘古不变的主题确实不断吸引着人去一探究竟。

否则，你怎么也理解不了剧中人物为什么会死而复生的奇迹（英文字幕中称作神迹）。

用爱情的力量可以战胜一切，虽然显得形而上学，但是至少我还是很饱受鼓舞。

很多人给的评分过低的原因是剧情显得过于拖沓冗长，这个我真心反对，对于速食或快餐主义盛行的今天，还有什么比娓娓道来，丝丝入扣的情节更能让浮躁的心沉静下来的呢。

写到这吧。

《狼族盟约》。

9分。

我私下里认为包括这个片名的翻译在内，几乎所有汉译名都不精准。

克里斯多夫·甘斯编剧、导演，塞缪尔·勒·比汉、马克·达卡斯考斯、杰瑞米·雷乃、文森特·卡索、艾米莉·德奎恩、莫妮卡·贝鲁奇主演作品。

大咖云集。

剧本扎实。

而且一定要看151分钟的导演剪辑版，非常赞！

事实上，这并不完全是一个和狼族有关的故事，片中虽然马克饰演的印第安人马尼和狼群有着某种神秘的联系，但狼在本片中只是个简单被利用的道具而已。

而故事的本质是爱情、权谋与复仇。

可谓精彩极了。

塞缪尔饰演的皇家骑士法兰克和好友马尼奉命前往吉瓦岗地区捕杀怪兽，途中既有开明派人士热情接待，也有保守派多加阻拦。

法兰克博学多才，武艺高强，也风流倜傥。

野兽尚未捕杀，已和城中莫妮卡饰演的名妓多次偷欢，又和艾米莉饰演的伯爵女儿玛丽安纠缠不清。

彼时，恰好是法国大革命前夕，各方势力都在暗暗较劲。

所谓怪兽，自然也都是有人故意为之。

世上最可怕的是人。

唯有片中两位奇女子，实在是美艳动人！！！

欧洲古装片，还是悬疑片、法语片，当然是不错啦..这样的片子现在真的很少了...莫妮卡贝鲁奇和她老公合演，很喜欢他们主演的《公寓故事》，比之后他们主演的一部现代片好上百倍..莫妮卡贝鲁奇演一号配角女间谍，还是喜欢《公寓故事》里的她..她老公演畸形百态贵族，一般般...太久以前看的VCD，结局读不出，不知道小女孩最后活下来了吗..

啊，《狼族盟约》……啊，莫妮卡·贝鲁奇……啊，文森特·卡索……一部长达两个半小时的冗长的电影（还不知道有没有剪过），因着他们俩，闪着七彩的礼花^^莫妮卡·贝鲁奇这个性感尤物，作为同性的我都无法抵挡她的魅力……用刀子划破男猪的胸膛然后舔那带血的刀，煽情妖冶到一塌糊涂啊……迅速地展开铁扇杀死那个疯婆子再用极快的速度收回衣服里，真是杀手杀手杀杀手……文森特·卡索……这个变态的阴鸷的脆弱的迷人的超级大反派霹雳大恶人……真是华丽丽地吸引眼球啊……假残疾、训练怪兽杀人、乱伦、强奸……让·弗朗索瓦真真当得上“变态”这个词……最后还以那样的死法向被他杀死的深爱的妹妹玛丽安倾诉爱意……男猪赢了又怎样……亲爱的玛丽安在地狱里陪的可是哥哥让……（好吧这是我的愿望，玛丽安最后被印第安治疗术救活了）死前和男猪的对话：让：玛丽安，看啊！

（然后把刀子拉过来戳到自己肚子上）男猪：玛丽安不在这里！

笨蛋（笨的是你）让：你让我们可以永远在一起了（从这句话知道，其实怪兽不怪兽死不死对让来说都没有意义，他从头到尾都只要玛丽安一个……华丽丽的乱伦啊……）然后死时那没有闭上的眼睛，看那眼神，销魂啊……记住了让·弗朗索瓦的同时也记住了他的扮演者：文森特·卡索……《不可撤销》《公寓》《伊丽莎白》《秘密雇员》《圣女贞德》《仇恨》《太保密码》《暗流》《快感，或小小的麻烦》……还有他让全世界男人仇恨的一点：他是莫妮卡·贝鲁奇的老公！

其实那个印第安人马尼也是个萌点，但他死得太早了ORZ……所以不提了可怜的孩子，你是好样的……啊……现在看电影都没法萌主角了……尽看配角……