Monday morning. Paul Wertret, 50, heads off to his job as a manager at the International Credit and Trade Bank. He arrives at 8 o'clock on the dot, as usual. He enters a meeting room, takes... See full summary »
April 5, 1943: a battalion of the Foreign Legion arrives in El Ksour, Tunisia, to escort a fortune in gold bars to the home front. A German ambush awaits, and all but four die. Thanks to ... See full summary »
A group of African men leave Senegal in a pirogue captained by a local fisherman to undertake the treacherous crossing of the Atlantic to Spain where they believe better lives and prospects are waiting for them.
Redhead Mary is a girl who dresses like a man to better approach, and rob the jewels worn by the pretty ladies of her time. The King's Guard captures her, and she finds herself in the same ... See full summary »
Monday morning. Paul Wertret, 50, heads off to his job as a manager at the International Credit and Trade Bank. He arrives at 8 o'clock on the dot, as usual. He enters a meeting room, takes out a gun and kills two of his bosses. Then he locks himself in his office. As he waits for the inevitable police assault, this ordinary man looks back over his life and the events that led him to commit such an act. Written by
Les Films du Losange
It's a pity to have to consign this film to the two-star bin. Jean-Marc Moutout flashback drama is a solid, tonally consistent piece keeping its head just above the moral floodwaters of the global banking crisis. It's inability to achieve any sort of argument, bias or conclusion isn't a failure. The subject preaches to a converted audience. However it is unsatisfactory.
For example: for all Jean-Pierre Darroussin's restrained moral and professional outrage not enough melodrama breaks the surface. It's a good, focused performance but it doesn't point us anywhere. Paul has his feet on the ground, even in an act of dreadful violence (which made people laugh in the screening I attended, such is the incongruity of his clear-sighted actions). He isn't a Meursault, operating on a different consciousness.
The film is bookended with Beethoven - the funeral march of the seventh Symphony and then the same music in variations by Robert Schumann, epic music of the inevitability of mortality. This is what I took from the film - the fruitless struggle of a good man in the overwhelming grip of bad faith. Not easily digestible. 4/10
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