In Paris in the 1920s, a concert violinist meets and falls in love with a stylish young flapper who's the wife of an old friend. Romaine instigates the affair with Marcel, and carries it ... See full summary »
In Paris in the 1920s, a concert violinist meets and falls in love with a stylish young flapper who's the wife of an old friend. Romaine instigates the affair with Marcel, and carries it forward even as her husband, Pierre, falls ill. She may even be purposely giving Pierre a treatment that adds to his misery. After Marcel returns from a concert tour and Romaine stoops to a new low in abandoning Pierre for an assignation, she reconsiders the affair and takes a drastic step. Three years later, Pierre pays Marcel a visit to demand the truth. Will the jealous and aggrieved Marcel manage a convincing performance? Written by
The introductory credits are presented as a book containing textual information as well as pictures. The pages are turned by a female hand and turning the last (introductory) page opens the story (film). See more »
For someone who made his name as an avant gardist and surfer of the New Wave Alain Resnais seems to be a closet dernier gardist with a penchant for stilted boulevard theater of another age. In his current release, Pas Sur le bouche he preserves almost intact an operetta from a bygone age and here, as long ago as 1986, he ploughs a similar furrow and even uses two actors from his regular repertory - Arditi and Azema - who will re-surface in Pas sur le bouche. Assuming that oiling the wheels of creaky vehicles is worth doing at all then Resnais does it as well as anyone and it would be bordering on the impossible to assemble a cast containing, in addition to Sabine Azema, Pierre Arditi (to say nothing of his sister), Fanny Ardant and Andre Dussolier and not produce a finished product worth watching. It also says a lot for panellists and juries that one of them saw fit to bung Azema a major Best Actress gong for her work here. It's difficult to nominate an audience for this but it would seem to be pitched at something between the semi-precious Gilbert Adair crowd and the popcorn brigade. 7/10
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