Watching Jacques Nolot's Before I Forget, I couldn't help thinking of my friend Arthur Lazere, the late film critic and creator of the still-operational site culturevulture.net, ("Choices for the Cognoscenti"). Arthur was gay and in his 60s when he succumbed to a long illness in 2006; he loved movies but he rarely found one that pleased him, or rather spoke to him in particular. The Barbarian Invasions (2003) was one of his favorites, I remember, and I enjoyed talking to -- and arguing with -- him about it and many other films. I wish I could have talked with him about Before I Forget, a film about a HIV+ gay man nearing his 60s. I admired the film all on my own, but Arthur would have got it.

That's actually one of the best things about Before I Forget, which was selected as one of last year's ten best films by Cahiers du Cinema; it's the uncompromising work of an artist making a film for himself, rather than targeting a demographic. Jacques Nolot mainly works as an actor, with roles in films like Claire Denis' Nenette & Boni (1996), Francois Ozon's Under the Sand (2001) and many André Téchiné films, including The Witnesses from earlier this year. He has written and directed three feature films, all starring himself: L'Arrière pays (1998), Porn Theater (2002) and this one. The three films are certainly homosexual and appear to be at least partly autobiographical, and even if they're not, Nolot still opens himself up totally: in an early sequence, his character Pierre wakes up, throws up, pops some pills makes some coffee and walks around his apartment, naked. His thinning hair and thin moustache are perfectly placed, but his sagging belly shows a losing battle with age.




Pierre is a former hustler and sometime writer who has lived with a lover/benefactor, Toutoune (Albert Mainella), for some decades. We see them together only once, in the film's opening shot, picking out a double gravesite. Toutoune mentions that Pierre will be able to watch the people walk by from this particular grave, and the camera moves away from the couple, tracking around the graveyard, showing us the view, and bringing us in on the idea of death. At first, Nolot doesn't explain what happens to Toutoune. When a bailiff turns up asking about Toutoune's unpaid parking tickets, Pierre answers wryly that he has "left for Switzerland" and adds that he, Pierre, is "very unhappy." Eventually we learn that Toutoune's will has disappeared and that Pierre's expected inheritance has evaporated. Nolot passes this information mainly through dialogue as Pierre visits and chats with friends from his former circle.

What do former hustlers talk about? Believe it or not, they compare bargains on gigolos. Pierre brags that he has acquired the services of one young man for half the price that his friend paid. Though when we see Pierre and one young man in action, Nolot keeps the lighting low and the encounter ends quickly; Pierre's various medications have affected his performance. But he still enjoys fellating the occasional delivery boy, regardless. He also runs into an old acquaintance, a man who was barely 17 years old when Pierre was in his prime, and they compare crime stories: stealing things, doing time, etc. Pierre casually mentions that he used to cruise with Roland Barthes! Nolot uses these conversation scenes, always over coffee or food, as an attempt to skirt the edges of the real Pierre. Pierre's surface activities and concerns appear casual and subversive, but how much do they really reveal?

Nolot gets a bit closer when Pierre visits his callous, clueless shrink who shuts down a session just as Pierre gets going, and who recommends that Pierre find a young boy to occupy his time. But the real Pierre comes closest to the surface when alone. He worries that his medication, aside from warnings about liver trouble and other horrific side effects, will make him lose his hair. He's also reluctant to shave his moustache when one of his young johns invites him to dress in drag and visit a certain club in a certain neighborhood. Perhaps Pierre clings to these things because he has no idea what else to cling to. "What would make me happy? Nothing..." he says at one point, adding (perhaps jokingly?) that a new young lover might do the trick.

The title, Before I Forget, suggests that this man is trying to get something important, perhaps final, off his chest as the end approaches. Nolot varies between long, unbroken, nearly silent shots with more standard two-shot dinner table conversations. It's a fairly rigorous filmic structure, searching for -- but eventually not finding -- similar structure in this elusive life. It's a simple-looking film with a complicated center. But there's a kind of sadness in the film that remains untapped, perhaps because Pierre himself isn't ready for it. Nolot is enough of an artist to know that he can simply leave off there, because denying this sadness doesn't mean that it's not there. Ultimately, the greatness of this film is that my friend Arthur would have seen it differently than I ever could have. I'm curious to hear what he would have thought of it, but "curious" is still a perfectly acceptable end reaction to an emotionally complex film.