Paul, an irritable and stressed-out hotel manager, begins to gradually develop paranoid delusions about his wife's infidelity. As he succumbs to green-eyed jealousy, his life starts to ... See full summary »
Chloe, a young woman, is going on holidays. She entrusts her beloved cat to Madame Renée's care. But one day Madame Renée (an old lady of the neighborhood) can not find the cat. Chloe ... See full summary »
Renée Le Calm
Victor Valance, an absent father who likes to gamble, returns home in order to take money from his family and gamble with it. His daughter is suspicious of her father's activities and ... See full summary »
A story about 11 girls living in Paris. Each of them has its own problems: career, love life, children. Every girl has their complexes and virtues. They always look elegant, hiding their ... See full summary »
Perhaps I am to blame my unfamiliarity with the original novel by Benjamin Constant (1816), but this movie turned out to be one of the most boring titles that have graced my eyes. As a fan of French cinema in general, and Adjani in particular, I was eager to watch this `movie about great tragic love' (as I was told by people who recommended it). As I watched this movie, I realized that I've been tricked, misinformed: there's no such thing as `love' in this movie, just appalling lust. Basically, to sum it up, this is a shot at the time-old story of a man who falls for a woman; woman sleeps with the man; man stops caring about the woman yet sticks with her `out of principle'. Meanwhile, the viewer is forced to sit though a good hour and half of Adjani's lamentations (which got tiring after the first 20 minutes of the movie) and with the male lead that `floats' around mumbling quasi-meaningless clichéd observations while being about as expressive as a log. Nothing really happens in the movie (which could have been easily shortened two-folds), and when the credits finally start to roll the only thing that redeems this piece of cinematic work is the fact that it finally came to an end. Ultimately, the story as it is presented by this disappointment of a movie feels like a distasteful version of Eugene Onegin (even though Adolphe was written slightly before Pushkin's chef-d'oeuvre), minus the parts that made Onegin exciting and thrilling.
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