Full Time (Éric Gravel, 2021) (Patreon)

A quick glance at Letterboxd confirms it: "a Dardennes version of Run Lola Run" is the popular characterization of Full Time, the second feature film by Éric Gravel. Trouble is, this admittedly simplistic description goes a long way toward explaining why Full Time is so effective. If we recall, Run Lola Run was an experiment in propulsion, with Franka Potente racing through Berlin to recover some money and save her boyfriend. But in its three repetitions, Tom Tykwer's film bore some resemblance to a videogame. If Lola failed, the scenario would begin again.

And while there are some moments of repetition in Full Time, they are not abstract. The frenzied protagonist, Julie (Laure Calamy) keeps finding herself dealing with the same shit day after day, and it never seems to relent. This is a story of a few days in the life of an overworked single mother who chooses to risk it all, putting her somewhat decent job as a chambermaid on the line in order to interview for a better paying job in her area of business administration.

Full Time ratchets up the anxiety simply by paying excruciatingly close attention to details. How long does it take to make a bed and clean a hotel room? What happens when public transit is late, in this case owing to a nationwide rail strike? How does one "dress for the job you want" when you're behind on your mortgage and the kids barely have enough groceries? It's true that the Dardennes and Ken Loach also address those kinds of working-class travails, but they do so by sacrificing many of the basic elements that cinema uses to generate anxiety. With a throbbing electronic score and sharp, muscular editing, Gravel treats Julie's various predicaments much in the same way we're accustomed to seeing the derring-do of Jason Bourne or Ethan Hunt.

In most other contexts, this would seem patronizing to an audience, as if action-movie tropes are the only way to really get us invested in a character's activity. But Full Time applies these formal ideas in order to drive home some unavoidable truths. Being broke is hard work. Under capitalism, everyone is looking out for #1, and class solidarity isn't what it used to be. And most importantly, most people are stuck in dead-end jobs because they are living hand to mouth, unable to be without employment for even a few days. 

As Julie hitchhikes to and from work, spends money she doesn't have to give her little boy a good birthday party, and negotiates the judgments of others, such as her mom and her former best friend, we are asked to really look at what our society demands of the working poor. And my using the conventional film language of breakneck human activity and split-second problem solving, Gravel sutures us into Julie's world, forcing us to root for her survival. The cinematic language of heroics is applied to Julie's life, and we are made to care about her plight as if the whole world were riding on the success of her mission.

Which in fact it is. Poverty isn't just hard work; it also has a regrettable social stigma, designed to keep those struggling out of sight, from us and from each other. Of course, this shame works to the advantage of the rich, who understand the power of keeping us in our place. Although Gravel is subtle and makes no overt mention of it, Julie at one point considers suicide, because she really sees no way out. She doesn't do it, because she has kids to raise, bit the point is clear enough. Even the most resilient spirit has its breaking point, and when we are atomized, we are made to feel that the failures are ours alone, rather than fundamental features of the economic system. 

Put more simply: if you have ever held your breath at a checkout counter, waiting to see if your credit card would be declined, Full Time is a film for you.