“A compelling but disquieting portrait of contemporary culture.”

When it comes down to the subject of exploring the training of law enforcement on screen, we don’t see as much representation as we’d expect – with the exception of the long-running film series that bears the name, the concept of police academy training has been strangely underseen in film, primarily because it’s a difficult subject to explore accurately, especially in an era where the public has grown to have a contentious relationship with those in this specific vocation. Guillaume Massart was evidently quite aware of the potential for controversy, which becomes the impetus for Detention, his second directorial outing in which he roots himself in a training school for prison guards, crafting a captivating and quietly unsettling social realist documentary that follows a few weeks in the lives of a group of students undergoing the gruelling process of entering the penal system, as the people delegated to maintain law and order in various prisons across France. It’s a simple premise on which the director builds quite an intriguing documentary, one that seems straightforward on the surface, but has a particular depth that reveals itself as the story progresses and we find ourselves being drawn into the subject, ultimately leading to a captivating work of socially charged non-fiction filmmaking.

Detention is not the first instance of Massart exploring the prison system, as his previous film In the Open was an in-depth examination of over a hundred men incarcerated in an open-air prison in Corsica, following their unique situation. In this film, the director turns the camera on the other daily residents of these institutions, following the guards who are trained to maintain order and ensure that the prisoners not only follow rules, but also remain complaisant. This is in itself a fascinating concept, but rather than focusing on those who have been a part of the system for a while, he chooses to look at the people who are on the precipice of entering this field of work, which brings unexpected layers of meaning, since there’s a large difference between grizzled veterans of the penal system who have experienced the violence (both physical and psychological), and those who, when presented with endless opportunities for careers, choose to enter into this vocation willingly. It’s portrayed as an admirable job, but a difficult one at the same time, as is perfectly outlined in the opening scene, where one of the many teachers at this academy directly tells his students that a large portion of them are simply not cut out for the job, which is less about their skills and more a result of the brutality they are likely to witness.

It is clear that Massart has a strong concept for Detention, since this is a film that tackles a subject familiar enough not to require much exposition, yet which hasn’t become so oversaturated that the director must rely on common conventions. It feels as if he’s tapping into something unique, and we see this in not only the aspects that he focuses on but also the ways in which he brings them together. The film is structured as a series of classes presented in what appears to be chronological order, as if we are accompanying these trainees on an ordinary school day, moving from one lesson to another, each one focused on a different area of the job. Whether practical, hands-on lessons that require active engagement, or more abstract discussions around the psychological and philosophical aspects of the career, the film depicts many fascinating elements that are often shielded from public view. Massart observes without guiding the narrative – he chooses what to include, and there are ultimately a few core messages, particularly those surrounding the central tension between order and intimidation, two essential components of the job that are divided by a very ambiguous boundary. This introduces strong undercurrents of discourse around class and social commentary, gradually revealing a film operating on many different levels in terms of what it intends to communicate.

Detention is a film that doesn’t lend itself to easy description, since many of its most effective moments emerge in ways that are somewhat intangible, particularly in how they contribute to a film that takes a sensory approach to exploring the subject, rather than an explicitly discursive one. This is quite surprising, since we would expect a film built around the subject of prison reform and the psychology of those who choose to willingly go into the field of law enforcement to be far more didactic and precise in what it intends to communicate, but it all eventually reveals itself to be far more complex than it appeared at a glance. Consisting of vignettes that gradually build to something quite unsettling but nonetheless intriguing, the film sets out to explore the experiences of these students, becoming an immersive depiction of a group of people trying to find compassion in a job often defined (if not outright restricted) by brutality. Through presenting a range of different viewpoints from the teachers (some of whom even contradict each other in terms of their philosophy towards law enforcement), Detention manages to explore the state of modern prison systems without ever setting foot in one, using language and interaction between students and teachers to determine whether toughness and intimidation are innate or learned, offering some unusual perspectives while also allowing room for ambiguity where it makes sense. A simple film that captures a very distinct set of perspectives, Detention offers insights into a subject we don’t see on screen as much as we’d expect, presenting a compelling but disquieting portrait of contemporary culture from a few bespoke angles, which proves to be entirely unforgettable.