Oscars 2024: Could Justine Triet Become the Fourth Woman to Win Best Director?

Cannes winner Anatomy of a Fall has garnered five nominations at the 96th Academy Awards, including Best Director for Justine Triet, who also wrote the film with her partner Arthur Harari. She is the only the eighth woman to be nominated for Best Director. If the film’s screenplay plays some serious mind games, Triet’s direction creates a kind of tension that grips you and doesn’t let go until the very end. 

An intriguing directorial choice is to have the camera linger on those giving the answers rather than those asking the questions. In an extended shot of Sandra (Sandra Hüller) recounting the events leading up to her husband Samuel’s (Samuel Theis) deadly fall to her lawyer friend Vincent (Swann Arlaud), she is the only one in the frame for more than a minute. When the couple’s visually-impaired son Daniel (Milo Machado-Graner) is being interrogated, we only hear the voice of the inspector questioning him; the camera rests on Daniel in that scene. We seldom see the journalists interrogating the members of the court about the case; the film chooses instead to focus on the people with the answers. 

In this way, the camera almost stands in for the viewer, representing the many questions we have, and the explanations we seek. In another scene, as Daniel is being cross-questioned by attorneys on both sides, the camera swoops from one side of the court to the other, hinged by Daniel’s disconcerted face at the centre. It’s reminiscent of a spectator at a tennis match, helpless but to follow the movement of the ball. This play of perspective can also be observed in an early scene when investigators swarm the chalet after Samuel’s body is found, and the camera moves at the eye-level of Snoop the dog, following him as he bounds across the room. It feels like a cheeky nod to the larger role the dog ends up playing in the investigation, thanks to Daniel’s ingenuity — dramatically changing the course of the film.

Triet also toys with the contrast between sound and silence; the loud music Samuel was listening to moments before his death contrasts with the stillness of the mountains. The courtroom sequences are heavy on dialogue, which works to exhilarating effect. The only flashback shows us the explosive fight scene that reveals the cracks in Sandra and Samuel’s marriage. “Since the film is built like a puzzle, with a lot of missing pieces, this one document can be used to project our own perceptions and understandings onto the couple,” said Triet in an interview. The film abruptly cuts back to the courtroom just as the fight turns violent. We are left to rely on our imagination to make sense of the grunts, gasps and shattering of glass. This compelling ambiguity also characterises the ending of the film, which leaves you pondering over whether Sandra is innocent or guilty. Ultimately, Triet does not provide a clear-cut conclusion, highlighting instead the messiness of truth and the importance of perspective.