Jaglom refuses to take his hat off even when he wins a spot in the Venice Film Festival. He captures the imagination of a stunning French journalist played by the beautiful Nelly Alard. She is such a fetching piece of eye candy that the rest of the issues that the film raises in its sometimes sophomoric attempt to appear deep hardly seem to matter. Ms. Alard seems to have escaped from a European painting and Jaglom can't shut up long enough about his theories concerning appearance and reality to truly stick both feet in and celebrate this fact. It's a case of having your cake and refusing to eat it too. The rest of us poor suckers in the audience are left to ponder why.
What artist has not wanted some beautiful woman to appear out of nowhere and declare to him that she loves him for the sensitive soul she has found in his work? Jaglom plays on this theme with a soft pedal, but can't stop being director long enough to truly convince us that he is worthy to be this woman's lover. He comes across as slightly befuddled at his piece of good luck. He is mystified as to what this woman sees in him and frankly we are as well. He is convinced that this woman will see him for what he truly is and in the end he won't measure up to her lofty expectations. The fact that he won't even try is underlined by the fact that he never takes his 'hat' off as a director. It's like coming to a party and telling your host you came to deliver a message and can only stay a minute. Meanwhile Cinderella shows up and you refuse to even ask if you can take her coat.
Alard brings her extraordinary charisma to the table and is literally given nothing to do. The other actresses, including Melissa Leo, Suzanne Bertish and Daphne Kastner, serve sort of as maids in waiting and do their best to help the intended to navigate her way through the filmmaker's romantic fantasy, but the itinerary seems uncertain as it shuns all the old familiar landmarks. Jaglom comes across as being too much into the business of filmmaking to give his own deeply felt dream room to breathe. Alard's sheer presence keeps pleading "I'm here! I'm here! Give me something to do!", and instead of laying one on her, Jaglom sets her up to audition for his love. Alard, being the fully mature, fully graduated woman that she is, sees through this farce like a housewife who's been left at home with a sink full of dirty dishes and only showed up to see what hubby does at the office, and to her credit serves up one of the true highlights of the film itself.
She asks him to be with her, but he can't do it. She asks him about what he does and he dryly tells her without a hint of romance. She asks him about the people he interacts with and works with and he barely introduces her to anyone. He tries to pimp her out as a selling point for his movie, but she has too much dignity to be a party to that. The paradox is here is a beautiful and gifted actress, playing the part of a woman who does not want to be another actress in the director's film, but would rather be his wife. But where's her part in the script? What lines does she have to memorize? Where should she stand and what are her cues? What will be the dimensions of her role in his life?
The fact that Jaglom as Dean the filmmaker never gives Alard as Jeanne his hat to put on a rack or in a closet or even has her to try it on to see whether or not it will fit her, is a telling point. She never even asks him why he wears that hat all the time! Which would be good inside information for an aspiring wife. This is a curious tale of a French journalist of wondrous beauty who went to America in search of Fellini and all his characters popping in and out asking whether or not he has a part for them today, and to her perplexed surprise found Henry Jaglom peering through the Fourth Wall. It may very well be this is Jaglom's deconstruction of the Hollywood Romantic Myth, but I don't think it would have been too much to ask Alard to run home and fix him something for dinner.
What artist has not wanted some beautiful woman to appear out of nowhere and declare to him that she loves him for the sensitive soul she has found in his work? Jaglom plays on this theme with a soft pedal, but can't stop being director long enough to truly convince us that he is worthy to be this woman's lover. He comes across as slightly befuddled at his piece of good luck. He is mystified as to what this woman sees in him and frankly we are as well. He is convinced that this woman will see him for what he truly is and in the end he won't measure up to her lofty expectations. The fact that he won't even try is underlined by the fact that he never takes his 'hat' off as a director. It's like coming to a party and telling your host you came to deliver a message and can only stay a minute. Meanwhile Cinderella shows up and you refuse to even ask if you can take her coat.
Alard brings her extraordinary charisma to the table and is literally given nothing to do. The other actresses, including Melissa Leo, Suzanne Bertish and Daphne Kastner, serve sort of as maids in waiting and do their best to help the intended to navigate her way through the filmmaker's romantic fantasy, but the itinerary seems uncertain as it shuns all the old familiar landmarks. Jaglom comes across as being too much into the business of filmmaking to give his own deeply felt dream room to breathe. Alard's sheer presence keeps pleading "I'm here! I'm here! Give me something to do!", and instead of laying one on her, Jaglom sets her up to audition for his love. Alard, being the fully mature, fully graduated woman that she is, sees through this farce like a housewife who's been left at home with a sink full of dirty dishes and only showed up to see what hubby does at the office, and to her credit serves up one of the true highlights of the film itself.
She asks him to be with her, but he can't do it. She asks him about what he does and he dryly tells her without a hint of romance. She asks him about the people he interacts with and works with and he barely introduces her to anyone. He tries to pimp her out as a selling point for his movie, but she has too much dignity to be a party to that. The paradox is here is a beautiful and gifted actress, playing the part of a woman who does not want to be another actress in the director's film, but would rather be his wife. But where's her part in the script? What lines does she have to memorize? Where should she stand and what are her cues? What will be the dimensions of her role in his life?
The fact that Jaglom as Dean the filmmaker never gives Alard as Jeanne his hat to put on a rack or in a closet or even has her to try it on to see whether or not it will fit her, is a telling point. She never even asks him why he wears that hat all the time! Which would be good inside information for an aspiring wife. This is a curious tale of a French journalist of wondrous beauty who went to America in search of Fellini and all his characters popping in and out asking whether or not he has a part for them today, and to her perplexed surprise found Henry Jaglom peering through the Fourth Wall. It may very well be this is Jaglom's deconstruction of the Hollywood Romantic Myth, but I don't think it would have been too much to ask Alard to run home and fix him something for dinner.
