Luc Besson has been a producer for some fairly uninspired cinema of late and it’s hard to remember that in the 80s and 90s he was a visionary and groundbreaking director. Although he made the very cool Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec in 2010 and wrote Taken, which was an unexpectedly brutal and slick action movie and its sequel (which wasn’t), he’s mostly been behind-the-scenes on middling action efforts like Columbiana and the Transporter series.
In his salad days though Besson was a defiantly original voice and a pioneer of the French cinéma du look movement. Although like all the artists involved in that movement he was often accused of favouring style over substance, he had such colourfully unique style that it was often satisfying enough by itself. From his punk fantasy debut Subway (1985) up until his stylistic zenith, the audience-dividing sci-fi craziness of The Fifth Element (1997), he was fiercely devoted to own brand of operatic Gallic insanity.
But in the middle of his most prolific phase he made a by his standards small-scale action drama that many consider his finest work. Leon is a blisteringly fast-paced, visually mesmerizing and emotionally spellbinding rollercoaster ride that hasn’t lost any of its impact in the 20 years since its release. It also hasn’t lost any of its slightly uncomfortable edge, centring as it does on the deeply unusual and occasionally worrying but always moving relationship between an emotionally stunted Gene Kelly obsessed Sicilian hit-man and a precocious 12-year-old orphan.
A prepubescent Natalie Portman gives her first performance, which still rates among her best, as Mathilda who, after her drug dealer father is murdered along with the rest of her family, takes desperate refuge with her neighbour Leon who luckily (or possibly very unluckily) is a mob enforcer and the most dangerous man in New York City. Jean Reno is unfailingly brilliant despite his faltering English and the fact that he doesn’t even attempt any kind of Italian accent. His lethal manchild is halfway between the Terminator and Forrest Gump but never feels as ridiculous as that sounds.
In fact the whole film, like most of Besson’s best work, manages to delicately walk the line between complete over-the-top ludicrousness and emotionally grounded drama. The film takes place in its own hyper reality where you can completely buy into the borderline cartoonish action beats but also be completely engrossed by the central intimate relationship. The shot that lingers on Portman’s tearful face as she waits outside Leon’s door pleading with him to let her in and save her life before she’s flooded with relief and the light from his apartment as he opens the door is one of the single most moving moments I have ever experienced in a movie. The fact that it exists in the same film in which Gary Oldman’s flamboyantly insane pantomime villain goes on killing sprees whilst humming along to Beethoven is testament to the peerless ability Besson once had to balance the sublime and the ridiculous.
Ah yes, Oldman’s villain deserves a special mention. These days he’s known for playing quiet, contemplative types but back in the early 90s he was a stranger to subtlety. Between this, Bram Stoker’s Dracula and True Romance he didn’t leave any scenery un-chewed. But Stansfield, the corrupt cop who slays Mathildas family, is perhaps his most mental creation a shrieking, jigging nutcase who still manages to be terrifying and gets all the most quotable lines. Or rather he takes standard lines and somehow makes them completely quotable, witness the way he turns the word “everybody into a terrifying war cry.
So it’s a brilliant film then, speaking personally it’s been in my top ten since I first saw it on VHS and I could go on at great length about its magnificence, I haven’t even mentioned Eric Serra’s brilliantly overwrought score. But, it’s important to also mention the fact that a lot of viewers will find it an uncomfortable watch. There are two versions of the film presented here the standard theatrical version seen in UK and US cinemas and Besson’s directors cut which was released in cinemas in France and across Europe.
The director’s cut is twenty minutes longer and as well as lot of extra action contains extra scenes between Leon and Mathilda that were cut out by the censors. And, as much as it pains me to side with censors, I can see why they made that decision. In the theatrical cut its revealed that Mathilda believes she’s in love with Leon (a fact that confuses and alarms him) and at one point tells a hotel manager that they’re lovers but their relationship still seems relatively innocent (except all the killing obviously) a friendship between two children one of whom happens to be a fully grown man and the other is a 12-year-old girl who likes to pretend she’s a grown up with grown up desires. But the director’s cut includes an infamous scene in which Mathilda tries to seduce Leon and it’s just very awkward and hard to watch and casts a pall over the rest of the film.
So I recommend the theatrical cut, not only because it doesn’t include this scene but also because it’s a less baggy and more streamlined, fast-paced experience. But of course you should buy the Blu-Ray and watch both. It’s wrong to say that Leon hasn’t dated at all since its release; in fact it’s one of the most 90s films imaginable and will fill anyone who was growing up at that time with warm nostalgia. But in terms of a film that balances action spectacle with emotional investment I don’t think there’s been a film since that beats it.
Overall Verdict: It’s still as brilliant, exciting, edgy and strange as it’s always been. There are two versions here both offering a different experience and both looking and sounding incredible on Blu-Ray.
Special Features:
Interview with Jean Reno
Interview with Eric Serra
Reviewer: Adam Pidgeon