The Vanishing - The Best Foreign Language Oscar Winner That Wasn't
It's one of European cinema's finest thrillers. So what was the quirk that prevented George Sluizer's picture from winning big at the Academy Awards?
Stanley Kubrick wasn't a big one for getting on the phone. The notoriously reclusive director was far happier munching his M&S sandwiches and minding his own business than having anything to do with the outside world. This being so, one can imagine film-maker George Sluizer's surprise when his secretary put through a call from the movie world's equivalent of Howard Hughes to discuss his 1988 thriller Spoorloos, aka The Vanishing.
"Stanley Kubrick was the biggest fan of The Vanishing," Sluizer later recalled with understandable pride. "He saw it, I think, 10 times. He called me when I was working in Los Angeles. We discussed the film shot-by-shot. I remember that he said, 'It's the most terrifying film I've ever seen in my life. And I said, 'Have you seen The Shining?' And he said, 'Oh, that's just child's play - that's not frightening at all compared to your movie.'"
While not everyone's convinced that The Shining's that scary - not least author Stephen King - Kubrick was right on the money when he pointed up how petrifying The Vanishing is. Less a 'whodunit' than a 'whydunit', Sluizer's film is a superb treatise on the nature of evil, complete with an ending that's as shattering as any in the history of film. So how come so remarkable film received no recognition at all from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences? The reason is as petty as the film is profound.
Adapted from a Tim Krabbé novella The Golden Egg, The Vanishing is the story of Rex Hofman and Saskia Wagter (Gene Bervoets and Johanna ver Steege), a Dutch couple enjoying a French cycling holiday. While at a service station, Saskia pops off to buy a drink and is never seen again. Her abductor is Raymond Lemorne (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu, superb), a French chemistry teacher who, when he isn't spending time with his charming family, dedicates himself to pulling off the perfect kidnapping.
Fast forward three years to 1987, and Raymond is still at large. Rex, on the other hand, is so obsessed with Saskia's disappearance that he annually returns to Nimes to discover her fate. He even brings new girlfriend Lineke (Gwen Eckhaus) with him. It's only after he makes a television appeal for information about Saskia's whereabouts that Hofman receives a home visit from Raymond who confesses to the crime and promises to show Rex what became of his lover, providing he follows his instructions.
So begins a truly bizarre road trip, the ending of which we will make no mention of here, other than to say that it will haunt your nightmares for months to come. Even without its distressing finale, The Vanishing would still be a film to conjure with. Our sense of unease is triggered within minutes of the movie starting as Rex abandons Saskia in a tunnel after their car runs out of fuel. It's all the proof one needs that theirs is far from a perfect relationship. And then there's Raymond with his Amish beard and beautiful home, trying to figure out how much chloroform he needs to render his victim unconscious with all the precision one would expect of a school teacher.
Given that the subject matter couldn't be darker, it's a surprise to find that Spoorloos (translation: 'Without A Trace') is often very funny. Take the scene where Raymond rehearses the abduction only for his best laid plans to subside into slapstick. Rex and Mr Lamonde ('The Gloomy One') also enjoy a bizarre but brilliant conversation about the nature of surnames; Raymond's observation that "In the Nimes phone book there's a guy called 'Poof'" even brings a smile to Hofman's sullen face.
While all four leads are excellent, by far The Vanishing's greatest performance is that of co-writer/producer/director Sluizer. With the story leaping backwards and forwards in time, the viewer's reminded of British filmmaker Nic Roeg (The Man Who Fell To Earth, Bad Timing), only here Sluizer's matter-of-fact approach means that the most fantastic elements of the story never feel forced. Even the moments of magic realism work, such as when the Rex of 1987 finds himself chasing a car driven by the Rex of 1984. More striking still is the scene in which Raymond, while seeking to perfect his kidnapping technique, encounters a woman who instructs him on when and where would be the best place to carry out an abduction. It's an encounter that seems to take place wholly within Raymond's mind, an unnerving place that the audience gains access to through a series of memories, one of which - the rescuing of a child from drowning - leaves him free to commit "the most horrible deed" he can imagine.
Of course, it helps that Sluizer has compelling source material to work from. Tim Krabbé's story might have been inspired by the same 'missing child' urban myth that formed the basis of everything from Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes to the Jodie Foster vehicle Flight Plan, but he develops the story in far more interesting fashion, allowing his writing to be informed by a newspaper story about a French woman who went missing at a petrol station after popping off to buy chewing gum. The author would discover that the lady in question turned up in perfect health just days after the alarm was raised. Still, with the idea for a highly original story now his, Krabbé range up the woman to thank her for inspiring him.
Perhaps the only film in which the Tour de France serves as a Greek chorus, so much about The Vanishing is excellent, it's surprising it took the world so long to catch on to it. Indeed, were it not for its last minute entry to the Sydney Film Festival, Spoorloos might itself have disappeared, leaving Sluizer in the awkward position of having to repay the underworld figures who'd help fund the film with nothing but thin air.
When it eventually reached the US in 1991, The Vanishing was championed as a refreshing change from the slasher thrillers that were in vogue at the time. Meanwhile, back in the Netherlands in 1988 - though a French/Dutch/West German co-production, the bulk of the budget came from Holland - The Vanishing was a hit with critics and audiences alike. Scooping the Golden Calf for Best Full-Length Feature Film at the Netherlands Film Festival, it seemed only natural that Spoorloos should be the Dutch entry for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar. Sure, 1988 was a strong year for European film - Bille August's Pelle The Conqueror and Pedro Almodovar's Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown were also in competition that year - but The Vanishing was every bit their equal. An Oscar nod seemed a certainty.
That was until the Academy Of Motion Picture Arts And Sciences reached for its rule book. According to AMPAS, for a film to be eligible for Best Foreign Language film, at least 60% of the dialogue must be in the principal language of the country submitting the film. Since over 40% of the dialogue in The Vanishing is French, the Academy disqualified the film from competition. This decision so upset the Dutch film authorities, they turned their back on AMPAS when the Academy gave them the chance to enter a different film. For the first time since 1972, the Netherlands wouldn't have a horse in the race for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar.
A film that was punished for being too European, The Vanishing's reputation hasn't been adversely effected by the Academy's indifference. The film also remains unsullied by its dire American remake. Directed by Sluizer only from a script by journeyman Todd Graff, the picture is noteworthy for a thoroughly wretched performance from Jeff Bridges and for including the one thing its impossible to imagine The Vanishing having; a happy ending.
As it is absent from his greatest film, so a happy ending was also denied George Sluizer. His later career included Crimetime, a dire Stephen Baldwin vehicle - yes, there really used to be such things - and Dark Blood, a drama whose production was halted following the death of leading man River Phoenix. When Sluizer died in 2012 aged 82, the obituaries centred on Spoorloos and a bizarre claim he'd made about having seen Israeli Defence Minister Ariel Sharon shoot dead two Palestinian children in 1982. A story that outraged Israel's high command, the Sharon mystery remains unsolved. Those looking for answers would do well to heed The Vanishing, a film that reminds us that the truth can be a deadly thing; the search for which can lead to the grave...