Mia Hansen-Love’s 2014 film Eden has appeared recently on Mubi and serves as a source of inspiration. It is in part a love letter to the clubland of the nineties and beyond, and also a universal tale of youthful hopes, dreams and loves, combined with the folly of youth and its aftermath. The early scenes see Paul (Félix de Givry) and Cyril (Roman Kolinka) and the rest of a group of burgeoning musicians, artists, writers and dreamers as they navigate underground Paris and all it has to offer. In so doing, they offer a kaleidoscope of nightlife, moving from club to club and rave to rave, exuding optimism and enthusiasm, oblivious to tomorrow or anything else outside their garage house orbit.
No film I’ve seen has managed to capture club culture so effectively as this film. Think of the moment when Daft Punk appear, to spin their seminal Da Funk for the first time to a small dancefloor of like-minded connoisseurs. Or a crowd singing the lyrics to Joe Smooth’s Promised Land. Devour the soundtrack of Frankie Knuckles, Terry Hunter, Kings Of Tomorrow and the rest. Add to that the beautiful scenes of Paris in all its glory, daytime and night time, parks and streets and apartment interiors, including the canal path that looks very much like one in Godard’s Bande A Part, updated perfectly for another generation and another time.
The main protagonist, Paul has it all. From his music and his inspiration to girlfriends Louise (Pauline Etienne), Julia (Greta Gerwig) and others who he meets throughout the film. Then, later, much later, life and its realities kick in. The film effectively portrays the life cycle of a scene, any scene for that matter, from its first, idealistic incarnation of a few like-minded cognoscente, to its final death throws, when every leach on the planet seems to have descended on its rotting corpse, when even the creators - Daft Punk themselves - are turned away from the period’s most happening club. As a rule of thumb, the appearance of large men with “security” on their t-shirts, along with dancefloor violence, signals the beginning of the end of any scene. So it transpires with this one.
There’s love here, along with its cousins, loss and tragedy. There are some heartbreaking moments, as well as uplifting ones. But belief and hope and creativity are there right through, and will continue long after the credits have rolled. In the end, the music is replaced by a creative writing group and by poetry, that of Robert Creeley. As Paul lies on his bed, alone for the first time, he reads the words of a poem and you know that inspiration will continue, it will just take another form.
What really matters is the joyous journey to the stars that this film celebrates. It all comes across as an outpouring of love for a scene that may have passed, but will stay with those who were there forever.
Sometimes you see a film that blows you away, that takes you on a magic carpet ride to the land of hopes and dreams and ecstasy, in its many splendoured, glitterball flecked forms, where the protagonists are ravers and the currency beats, melodies and vibes that touch the soul. That takes you to Eden.