Romain Gavras’ Athena kicks off with the all-too-familiar tragedy of our era: the death of Idir, a 13-year-old, at the hands of the police. The video of the killing has gone viral on social media, inflaming tensions between France’s Algerian Muslim community and the police, an institution the former has always distrusted. As Abdel, the older brother, addresses the press at the police precinct, the camera is set into motion to focus on the literal powder keg: an attack on the precinct set into motion by Karim, the third brother.
What follows is an explosive one-take shot that is quite possibly the most intense opening scene to a movie I’ve come across, since Tenet. The visual rendition of Karim leading his mini-army out in a stolen police car surrounded by an entourage of revving motorbikes is the operatic climax to a chaotic opening, a moment of pure exhilaration, pregnant with hope and electrifying energy.
The movie portrays the standoff between the youth of the Athena estate (a largely immigrant enclave) and the police, as the former seeks justice for the murder of Idir. Frustrated with years of neglect, discrimination and lack of political will to punish police brutality, the youth led by Karim take up arms to confront the police in a daring declaration of defiance.
Athena is primarily concerned, however, with the conflicting views of the older brothers and their approach to the tragedy: Karim is young, consumed by rage and driven to violence; Abdel, a decorated soldier, is firmly opposed to revenge and violence while Moktar, the eldest son is a drug dealer too consumed by self-interest to make a point.
Here, it is important to note that Gavras is able to successfully tap into the deep-rooted anger and resentment and portray it powerfully – an exercise that embodies the highest points of the film.
On the technical side, the movie is nothing short of a marvel. Built almost entirely out of several masterfully choreographed one-takers that feel natural, it is a visual treat par none in an age where the once awe-inspiring one-take shot has become nothing more than a cheap gimmick. Phenomenal crowd-control and the epic, almost battle-like scale of sequences amp up the thrill and tension the movie has to offer.
Yet this dedication to the aesthetic crosses a line: after the first act, it becomes painfully obvious that Gavras sees the protests only as an aesthetic – wholly uninterested in the social conditions that birthed the resentment. Right from the beginning as the camera pans to Karim while drowning out the voice of a lawyer decrying police obstruction of the investigation, the movie constantly relegates to the background details regarding police brutality.
Vacillating between unabashedly glorifying violent confrontations and cowardly seeking refuge in a rebuke of the same, Athena becomes more frustrating to watch towards the end as it drowns out any potential it had for a meaningful portrayal of an extremely relevant social problem.
Even more vexing is an utterly pointless third act that is more befuddling than annoying; to top it all is quite possibly the most treacherous ending to a movie in recent times: a complete backstabbing to any viewer who placed a sense of hope in the movie after its opening sequence.
The result is a film entirely focused on the aesthetics of the protesters’ rage, eschewing any discussion of morality and police brutality itself; a movie constantly distracted by its own obsessions, and one which lacks the conviction to take a proper political stance. A visual spectacle, awe-inducing at times, Athena struggles to follow the political implications of its aesthetic and instead falls back on cowardice.