Anatomy of a Fall

Truth and Subjectivity and Writers

Nov 21, 2023

Anatomy of a Fall, Justine Triet’s Palme d’Or-winning courtroom drama, is arguably the best film of the year. It definitely has the most fascinating performance.

Sandra Hüller plays a successful writer married to an unsuccessful writer. They have a son who lost his vision after an accident (the husband was at fault). A grad student comes to interview Hüller about fact and fiction in her work. The husband acts up by blasting music, cutting the interview short. A little while later, the son finds his father in the snow outside their remote cabin, dead.

Did Hüller strike him and push him out a window? Or did he do this to himself?

You should see Anatomy of a Fall for yourself before reading too much more. (Vince Keenan has a good in-depth summary and review on his newsletter Cocktails and Crime). I don’t want to spoil it too much, but I’ve been thinking about the film since I saw it.

It’s interesting to contrast Anatomy with Killers of the Flower Moon. One is about how truth and history aren’t every truly objective, the other about a murder spree so tied to large systemic ideas of capitalism and racism that it can’t possibly be anything other than objective. The personal myths we tell ourselves vs. the national myths we must own.

(Minor spoilers from here on.)

One of the key pieces of evidence in Anatomy is a recorded conversation between Hüller and her husband. (He taped their conversations for his novel-in-progress, which as any writer knows is not really helpful).

During the course of this argument, he accuses her of not supporting him, of ‘plundering’ his ideas, of sleeping with other people, and of locking him into an existence where he lacks the time to write.

Hüller denies and deflects all of this. You chose your life, she tells him again and again. She admits to the infidelity, and to taking an idea from an abandoned work of his, but also points out that he chose to homeschool their son and buy a cabin in need of renovations.

The argument turns violent. And since we only have the audio, Hüller interprets it for the court without the dead man being able to counter.

(Major spoilers from here on.)

I am 100% on her side in this argument.

Everyone has heard countless explanations like this from people who don’t have the time, as if that is a decision imposed on them. It some cases it certainly is—a single parent or a caregiver has obligations that trump art, clearly—but so often this idea of ‘blocks and blocks of uninterrupted writing time’ is a fantasy. Or an excuse.

“You chose to homeschool our son,” Hüller says, to which he replies, “You want me to give up my relationship with him?” But of course that’s not the point—just own your choice.

There’s also that fact he’s recording this conversation. In effect it’s a drama he’s passive-aggressively arranged, in which he plays the put-upon spouse.

My friend Clint Burnham interpreted the scene very differently—that the husband brings up genuine points about how her life places a burden on her family. Hüller acts like the classic mid-century male artist, having affairs and taking what she needs without thought of her spouse. Her responses amount to gaslighting, and the film becomes a shoe-on-the-other-foot statement about gender expectations.

I disagree, though I can’t argue against it. Ultimately the joy lies in the interpretation—does Tony die at the end of The Sopranos, or live on?

Maybe it’s contrarianism, but I tend to pick the interpretation that’s harder to justify but feels richer. Yes, Tony deserves to get whacked, and maybe he does, but isn’t it far more troublesome and fascinating if he just lives on, like Martin Landau in Crimes and Misdemeanors?

So in Anatomy of a Fall, did the husband throw himself out the window after being confronted by his failures? Or did Sandra Hüller crack him on the skull and push him? The film definitely leaves it For You To Decide…

…but right at the beginning, a third possibility is raised and swiftly dismissed by her attorney: that the husband fell.

The jury won’t buy that he fell accidentally after days of raised tension in the house. The blood spatter evidence doesn’t conclusively support it. The attorney himself doesn’t buy it as an explanation.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.

Anatomy of a Fall is a very rich film that can support any of these interpretations, a great character study, and a fascinating look at art.

Pre-order A Lonesome Place for Dying now, and when it arrives you’ll be pleasantly surprised and happy you did. It’s a nice way to help out yourself and Mr. Chase as well.