Irma Vep: Binge, Fringe, or Singe?
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
Binge, Fringe, or Singe? is our television series that will cover the latest seasons, miniseries, and more. Binge is our recommendation to marathon the reviewed season. Fringe means it won’t be everyone’s favourite show, but is worth a try (maybe there are issues with it). Singe means to avoid the reviewed series at all costs.
What I love the most about Olivier Assayas’ 1996 film Irma Vep, starring Maggie Cheung, is its self awareness. The director knows that cinema is forever changing, and that trying to channel the silent serial Les Vampires (by Louis Feuillade) with fresh eyes is only going to be a cause of disaster. Les Vampires is a classic, and remaking it won’t be doing anyone any favours; not Assayas; not the original works by Louis Feuillade themselves; not the audience that expects the excellence of the source material. What Assayas does is adapt Les Vampires in his own loose way (think Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation. before that film even came out), with the understanding that this is an impossible task and work-arounds are the only ways around. Assayas is able to analyze the detriment of art in cinema, the disconnection between international industries, and the difficulties of shooting a film, all whilst channeling Les Vampires in a very metaphysical way.
It is a great experiment, but it does leave me wanting more; not in a bad way, necessarily, but through the endless mysticism that continues to grow within my understanding of Irma Vep once the film is over. That to me reminded me of Les Vampires in a different way: the best works are never enough. You will want to experience them forever, even if they are over four hundred minutes long (in the case of Les Vampires). Feuillade’s classic changed cinema for many audiences and aspiring minds. What can auteurs do decades later to a medium that has already experienced many waves and evolutions? Look back, of course. Irma Vep is arguably Assayas’ strongest film because of his ability to realize the fickleness of legacy and the academia behind film as an artifact, as an art form worthy of criticism, and as a personal connection with individual viewers and audiences as a whole. There are a lot of moving parts to the cinematic experience, and I think many of us would like to forget that when we get to discussing our opinions. Assayas confronts them head on.
The miniseries remake of Irma Vep is just as self aware and witty as the original, if not even more so.
More decades have passed, and so has society’s understanding of visual storytelling. Television is bigger than ever before, and arguably more beloved than film is. Assayas himself has had experience with the small screen, including the acclaimed Carlos. Thus, it only made sense that he returned there with a fresh take on what was being said in his film. Irma Vep is back, this time as an eight episode series, and with Alicia Vikander not playing herself like Maggie Cheung did in the film: she is Mira (an anagram of Irma, as in Irma Vep, which itself is an anagram of vampire). She is taking part in a television remake of Les Vampires, and now Feuillade’s separate chapters are being made into the episodes of this very miniseries that HBO subscribers can watch (pretty clever). With the large amount of time in this series to watch (around fifty minutes per episode), we can now dip even deeper into Assayas’ unique visions, and that sensation of needing to see more isn’t quite as strong as it was before. Even still, once the series really gets going about five episodes in, I still want more, and that doesn’t let up once Irma Vep finishes. It’s the sign of a meta project that knows what it is doing. I love being within a realm of a conversation that is providing arguments in a way a simple one-on-one chat can’t fulfil.
Vikander is perfectly casted here, not just because she is a brilliant actress (and I really do think so: she knocks it out of the park in nearly anything I ever see her in). Her presence here is all a part of the commentary: this Swedish performer that has partaken in period pieces, arthouse films, and independent gems wound up as the newest Lara Croft in Tomb Raider (although the recent news with her role likely being recast negates this, but just stay with me). As Mira here, Vikander is the star of a blockbuster film that she is tired of bringing up again and again in promotional tours. Through this adaptation of Les Vampires and other projects, she is able to live countless lives, even if the productions are nightmares and no one will ever see these films. Assayas himself is likely frustrated with the saturated exhaustion of franchise films like most other auteurs that place art before returns, and you can feel that every ounce of bother in Irma Vep. What does Vikander have to say about all of this? She allows her work as Mira to channel all of her acting capabilities at once, in such expressive and varied ways that cookie cutter works would never allow.
Irma Vep continuously breaks itself, helping shift what television — and cinema — can be.
The other main character is director René Vidal, played by Vincent Macaigne (he doubles as Feuillade when applicable). This double is only a part of the self destruction of Irma Vep, but I’ll get more into that shortly. For now, I want to commend Macaigne for enhancing what was a small part of Assayas’ original film, helping expand this character into a full-on understanding of the particulates of being a filmmaker, whether they are in the right (no one working with them to get the best possible result) or in the wrong (endangering the wellbeing of cast and crew). Vidal breaks as his patience shortens again and again, but Mira breaks as a fundamental character entirely, even going as far as to break the fourth wall (or whatever walls she sifts through). Mira slowly seeps into her character of Irma Vep (based on the same role of Les Vampires), but these traits are starting to carry on into her daily life, as she loses tough with reality (think Inland Empire).
As Irma Vep continues, it progressively loses its foundation, and this is precisely when it becomes a limitless series that I couldn’t turn away from. Rules are broken. Timelines get confused. All of these separate elements become one, and I just adored what I was watching; it felt less like another fish-out-of-water observation and more like a series of metaphysical vignettes about the television experience (this time, think Holy Motors). A lot of online malice has come from viewers that stopped one or two episodes into Irma Vep. It is virtually impossible to appreciate how otherworldly this series is until you finish it (I think that’s a given with all series, but what can you do? Apparently people need to learn this still). If Assayas was commenting on the by-the-numbers state of film, you really won’t be getting that here with Irma Vep. Maybe he’s showing us that television — the once more-stale offshoot of cinema, thanks to its censorships and advertisement requirements — is now the more daring of the two mediums. Film is in a sorry state as a whole. Television is going the distance.
Alicia Vikander turns in some of her finest work as Mira in Irma Vep.
Irma Vep won’t be for everyone, but it is one of the most interesting series of 2022 for me. It now feels like an ongoing project for Assayas, where he will revisit it again in a number of decades: who knows where visual storytelling will be at this point. Hell, who knows where film itself will be (or television, for that matter). Things are always changing, and we will forever be looking back, whilst scoffing at the current state of things. Nostalgia sells. Streaming services know that more than ever (as does, well, pretty much every other industry). What Assayas does here isn’t nostalgia: it’s a deconstruction of that feeling, as to better understand why we have it, and what good it is actually doing us. We aren’t creating art when we rely on the tropes of the past. We’re just reminiscing. It isn’t refreshing in the sense that we feel rejuvenated with something new. It’s the other definition of refreshing in the age of the internet: experiencing the same thing and hoping for different results.
Irma Vep could have rehashed what Assayas did before, but it doesn’t do that (wouldn’t that be hypocritical for him to comment on the futility of remaking Les Vampires, only for him to remake his own work directly). It instead breaks his mold even further, precisely when film could use a little shaking-up (television’s doing quite alright in the creativity department). Furthermore, it allows Assays to allow Les Vampires to be reborn again in his series, and even more apparently, too. This may be the strongest work Assayas has released in years (which is saying a lot, given his hot streak in the 2010’s): it’s some of his most powerful analyses yet. If you like thought provoking television that will surely pull the rug from underneath you more and more while you keep watching, then Irma Vep is your jam.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.