Father and Sons

A story working only if you feel it. A title like a game of words because each of the three Zuccarelli can be the father and the son. And it is fair that.

It is a film who I like very much. First, for acting. Second, for poetic realism. A single father an his sons,his dead brother, his book, his girlfriend comparing it with Tolstoi, his literary insucces and , in some measure, at the first sight, the fail as father.

His boys , the older wonded by an unhappy love story,refuged in easy love dominated by supperficiality.

The younger, too mature, enloved, dominated by mystic crisis and wise, in the manner of early teens.

And the father, admirable acted by Benoit Poelvoorde, isolated in his regrets and illusions.

A precise perspective about family. Direct and fair.

Rather intriguing story of this little family of guys who get lost and find themselves. Several unexpected twists keep the interest and we end up understanding something.

_Father and Sons_ is surprisingly entertaining. It is about a family of seekers: a father (Benoit Poelvoorde) with a mid-life crisis who turns to writing a novel; an elder son (Vincent Lacoste) who is heart-broken over being jilted, who finds comfort in his younger brother's Latin teacher (Anais Demoustier); and the said younger brother who has an unnerving fixation with spirituality and pretty classmate, roughly in that order. There is not much of a story, but the film is a collection of very memorable scenes. The very first scene has Poelvoorde's character trying to fit himself into a coffin; there is a tasteful scene in which Lacoste helps Demoustier puts on a dress; and finally, the younger brother (new comer Mathieu Capella) puts on a show to win the heart of his girlfriend.

Lacoste (_The Green Perfume_, _Smoking Causes Coughing_, _On a Magical Night_) is an incredibly charming presence, but if you ask me, the film belongs to Demoustier, so confident and sophisticated here, without a trace of her other characters' neurosis. In fact all the women characters are assured and all the men are lost puppies.

The director Felix Moati is barely in his mid-thirties. He is mostly known as an actor (most memorable as Demoustier's costar in _All About Them_). But his father appears to be a veteran TV movie director, and it has rubbed off on him. The camera work is only serviceable, but all the actors give charismatic performances, and a host of young familiar faces make cameo appearances (India Hair, Nadia Tereskiewicz, Lola Creton). Everyone seems to be having a good time. As do I, watching the film.