In Verderonne, a small village in the Oise, it's the first day of summer and Claire Darling wakes up convinced to live her last day - She then decides to empty her house and brade ...
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In Verderonne, a small village in the Oise, it's the first day of summer and Claire Darling wakes up convinced to live her last day - She then decides to empty her house and brade everything without distinction, Tiffany lamps to the collection clock. The objects so loved echo her tragic and flamboyant life. This last madness brings back Mary, her daughter, whom she has not seen for 20 years.Written by
Hugo Van Herpe
French cinema is a tad of an oxymoron. Self conscious artistry par excellence. Everything in French films is posturing. With the possible exception of Luc Besson's spectacular cinematography and framing, so overpowering the rest of the cinematic elements haven't got a chance to work on the viewer's consciousness. But not here.
Look at me, I'm an aging movie star legend, I'm a female director doing women, themes as old as the hills, yeah, family life and aging are painful, but making a painful job of a movie doesn't mitigate the problem. I love movies that surprise and stretch my expectations, but French movies don't do that, and neither does this one. A dutiful exercise devoid of inspiration or surprise or anything natural and spontaneous. As exciting as a Friday afternoon history class. I'll pass, merci beaucoup!
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