This is yet another wonderful 'small' French film in the tradition of Rien a faire and Le Chiognon d'Olga, verging on the Chekovian in its beautifully understated air of melancholia and two outstanding minimalist performances from Ann Consigny and Patrick Chesnais; there was a time, half a century ago, when Hollywood came close to the feel of films like this in such movies as Delbert Mann's Marty but that time is long gone and seemingly only the French continue to turn out gems like this. The story is simple to the point of banality; a middle-aged (51) bailiff, Chesnais, vaguely dissatisfied with his empty life, enrols in an Academy across the street from his office where they teach the Tango. There he meets Consigny, a quietly beautiful young girl (Consigny is actually 43 but looks at least ten years younger) engaged to be married and living with one of those Mr Cellophane guys that other guys always say 'what does SHE see in HIM' about. The live-in lover is a teacher who has taken a sabbatical to write a novel and has writer's block. Consigny is drawn to Chesnais because his mother once baby sat her and her feelings are confused. Not a great deal happens, they grow close, share tender moments infused with gently warmth, part.
This is Art House fodder writ large but no worse, in fact all the better for it. A delightful movie.
This is Art House fodder writ large but no worse, in fact all the better for it. A delightful movie.