There are few things more equally beautiful and depressing than a hard Canadian winter. Much like the recently released Best Picture nominee Monsieur Lazhar, Le Vendeur (The Salesman) tells its story of loss amid a snowy Quebec winter, and much like Lazhar, Le Vendeur focuses largely on how individual losses affect a community as a whole. Director Sebastien Pilote’s haunting look at a successful car salesman trying to stay afloat during an economic depression stands as further proof that some of the best stories about real people are coming from the country’s top film producing province.
Marcel Levesque (Gilbert Sicotte) has been the most successful car salesmen in his sleepy little hamlet for as long as anyone can remember. Despite approaching retirement age, Marcel is so confident with his job that he’s ordered enough new business cards to last another decade. The only things he knows in this life are his job (even living in a house that’s practically on the lot) and his daughter and grandson. The town, however, has fallen on hard times and Marcel’s optimism that things will get better could be completely unfounded. The economy, based almost solely around a paper mill where the local workers have been locked out for over 237 days at the start of the film, couldn’t be worse, leading to an existential crisis for Marcel who simply can’t shut off his instinct to make a sale at any cost.
As Marcel, Sicotte gives a rich and sympathetic performance. Marcel might be employed in one of the most frowned upon professions, but he’s still a pillar of the community and well liked by everyone who deals with him. No one seems to have the heart to tell Marcel that things probably aren’t going to turn out very well, because he might very well be the last optimist in town. At times he seems to be the only person keeping those around him going. Sicotte gradually shows glimmers of desperation in Marcel’s eye, but only fleetingly before he decides to get his head back in the game.
Pilote wisely frames the story as more of a microcosm, using title cards to show progression of time through the number of days the plant has been closed. Marcel, as a character, is being used by Pilote to demonstrate the ripple effect felt throughout the community. Every character touched by Marcel, especially a laid off worker (a quietly intense Jean-Francois Boudreau) practically bullied into buying a new truck by an increasingly desperate Marcel, feels real thanks to Pilote’s almost verite touch. Michel Le Veaux’s cinematography might also be the best in a Canadian film in quite some time, equating bone chilling cold outside with the harsh economic climate inside.
While the film is very, very good, there is one small complaine, but it’s one of a lot of recent world cinema. Even the best films today seem to feel the need to start off mid-story before going back to the beginning to set up a revelation that will alter the main character’s life forever later in the film. It’s a revelation so big and shocking that it’s impossible to talk about in a review without spoiling it, but because this moment is telegraphed from the opening frames, the audience always waits for the other shoe to drop because they know something awful is going to happen. It’s still handled well here, but it’s something that’s been bugging me for a long time. Why can’t people just start from the beginning anymore? Even if something shocking is going to happen, do filmmakers and writers see this as clever or as a sign that their audience can’t handle a surprise? It’s a minor complaint, but still one worth addressing before this gets too far out of hand.
Rating: 
Rated G
Cast: Gilbert Sicotte, Jean-François Boudreau
Directed by: Sébastien Pilote
Top image: A scene from Le Vendeur. Courtesy eOne Films.
