It's so easy to get stuck into a rut with blogging. You leave it for a day, then for a week and before you know it a month has gone by and your browser is gathering dust in the corner. That's when it starts to feel like a burden; an ominous presence looming over you. It is in moments such as this that something truly inspiring is needed to shake you out of your slumber. Discovering a film that places itself firmly in your number one spot cannot be disregarded as such an opportunity.
Leon the Professional sees an 11 year old Natalie Portman in her first feature length role, as young Mathilda who is taken in by a hitman after her family are killed. Released in the same year as my birth the likelihood that we were bound to be kindred spirits seemed inevitable, and from the opening credits I knew that I was going to succumb to infatuation immediately. We are met with a wide shot as the camera spans across an expanse of trees, gradually zooming closer through New York streets until we finally find ourselves in Little Italy. There is the feeling that we are floating above the chaos of the city, and as an introductory scene this perfectly encapsulates the nature of the film.
As the plot suggests this is a narrative that isn't without action, yet it is the spaces in between, much like the opening scene, that make it so worthwhile. The combination of the tranquil soundtrack and the wide panning shots add a degree of peace that allows you to absorb the film properly. Not lost in the more violent scenes, Besson successfully depicts the complexities of the relationship shared by Leon and Mathilda -- enhanced further by the exceptionally understated performances of the actors. There is a consideration for each individual detail of the film, from the way the bead curtains hang as a division between two characters, to the way that Mathilda models herself on Leon down to what she wears. Epitomised in a single line,'I like these calm little moments before the storm', what Luc Besson presents is an exploration of the intricacies found in those moments, and what they offer to the surrounding disorder that refuses to cease in its pervasion of a haphazard life.
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