The Feral Innocence of Bruno Dumont’s ‘Red Rocks’

Bruno Dumont has built a career on capturing the raw energy of childhood. His latest film, “Red Rocks,” takes this signature naturalism to new depths by placing a group of children in a fantastical landscape of rock formations and ocean waters, where safety and danger blur.

Dumont often explores the transition between innocence and adulthood, as seen in films like “The Life of Jesus” and “Li’l Quinquin.” In “Red Rocks,” this theme is taken to its extreme, with five- to seven-year-olds engaging in activities that are both hilariously reckless and profoundly unsettling. The film’s use of long, static takes creates a sense of timelessness, as if the children’s antics are being frozen forever.

The Mediterranean setting, complete with arched viaducts and train tracks, is miniaturized into a fantasy playground for the children to inhabit. This choice highlights the tension between freedom and safety, as adults often sanitize childhood by protecting them from harsh realities. By placing these children in a beautiful yet treacherous landscape, Dumont invites viewers to participate in this feral world.

Critics have accused Dumont of exploiting his young subjects, but this critique misses the point. Dumont’s use of nonprofessional actors is about capturing their raw energy and spontaneity. He creates a sense of authenticity that is rare in modern cinema by placing these children in a world that is both fantastical and real.

The film has its flaws: some scenes feel repetitive due to its slim 90-minute runtime, and the Romeo and Juliet framing device feels like a distraction from the main event – watching these children explore and play. Despite these criticisms, Dumont has managed to stake out new territory with “Red Rocks,” creating a portrait of childhood that is both alien and deeply human.

As we watch these children navigate their feral world, we are forced to confront our own assumptions about childhood and the role of adults in shaping it. Do we want to protect them from harm or let them explore and learn on their own? Dumont’s film doesn’t provide easy answers; instead, it raises important questions about freedom and safety in a complex and uncertain world.

“Red Rocks” is a testament to Dumont’s willingness to experiment and push boundaries. It may be a transitional work for a director who tends to shape-shift, but it also reminds us of the power of cinema to capture human experience. As we watch these children play and explore, we are reminded that childhood is not just innocence; it’s also a time of discovery and exploration – sometimes terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

The film will undoubtedly be remembered for years to come, inspiring debate and discussion among critics and audiences alike. Its impact on the future of cinema remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: Bruno Dumont has once again pushed the boundaries of what we expect from a film about childhood.