FFF: Fantastic French Films!!

Superb Hitchcockian thriller with a fantastic double act in Emmanuelle Devos & Vincent Cassel, who are both excellent. The film is unbearably tense, romantic, sexy, offbeat and finally oddly beautiful. The cinematography is great, the central conceit is used to great effect (sound design is particularly effective) and the direction taught. The director, Jacques Audiard, who has gone on to make the equally impressive The Beat That My Heart Skipped, is fast becoming a personal favorite...

Superb coming of age French film made in the 70's but set in the 50's, which focuses on an adolescent boy coming to terms with his sexuality and his relationships with his mother, father and brothers.

Very tenderly directed, the film features stunning and unforced performances from Benoit Ferreux as lead character Laurent and Lea Massari as his mother. In other hands the subject matter could seem exploitative and unnecessarily controversial, but Louis Malle displays an assured light touch. The period detail is also very impressive and the warm cinematography is another plus.

The Criterion DVD features a pristine transfer that makes the film look brand new, and comes with a very well written and informative essay by film critic Michael Sragow.

A very fine film indeed.

A young girl, Melanie, dreams of becoming a professional musician and finds her hopes shattered in an instant when one of the judges listening to her performance - a famous concert pianist - agrees to sign an autograph, causing her to lose confidence and blow her chance.

Later in life, Melanie (Debroah Francois), now a young woman, exploits an opportunity to exact revenge.

The Page Turner is an icy-cold and expertly mounted tale of revenge, piling on the tension in a lean 85 minutes, mostly eschewing blood in favour of psychological consequences; Melanie slowly builds a relationship and trust with the family she works for before beginning to turn the tables. The finale may lack sensationalism but remains true to the story and the performances from Deborah Francois and Catherine Frot are superb.

Exceptional, impossible to classify thriller/black comedy/supernatural film from the director of Harry, He's Here To Help; it's like a cross between Alfred Hitchcock and David Lynch and is one of the most bizarre and satisfying films I've seen in a long time.

Alain (Laurent Lucas), a designer of home security products (he's working on a "flying webcam") seems to have it all - a beautiful wife, Benedicte (Charlotte Gainsburg), a promising new home in a pretty town and a lucrative job. On the evening his boss, Richard, and his wife, Alice (Charlotte Rampling) come round for dinner, things start to get... weird. The kitchen sink blocks, and later Alice accuses Richard of sleeping with prostitutes and throws her wine at him, before trying to insult Benedicte over her 'model' marriage and what she sees as a superiority complex. That night, unable to sleep, Alain successfully unblocks the sink when he discovers a rodent (the titular lemming) in the s bend. What follows gets increasingly unnerving and surreal as Alice tries to seduce Alain before inviting herself back into his house, creeping out Benedicte and sleeping in the spare room.

Sounds odd? Well, yes it is, but there is a point to the film and although there is some ambiguity it's not Inland Empire either. There are some unexpectedly very funny moments in the film, the atmosphere is expertly built practically from the beginning, Charlotte Rampling gives a frankly terrifying performance and the sound editing and music score is terrific. I'm already in anticipation for Dominik Moll's next film.

Eight years ago, Alex's wife was murdered. Today, she e-mailed him.

The above tag-line is pretty much all you should know regarding the storyline before watching. This French film from director Guillaume Canet, and based on a pulpy thriller by US author Harlan Coben, does everything right with the genre of a thriller, and adds a few wrinkles of its own too. Much like in The Constant Gardener, despite being a thriller at its heart it's also a romance, with the protagonist slowly learning things he never knew about his wife that only deepens his love for her. As a thriller, the film works a great deal better than say, The Fugitive or The Bourne Identity, and there are some standout sequences, such as a thrilling chase across a highway, which are imbued with kinetic energy that give most US blockbusters a run for their money.

Clever and intelligently plotted without becoming convoluted or too complex, well acted by a talented and unshowy cast and with excellent camera work and music score, Tell No One is an ingenious and moving film. Oh and I would just like to add that the uses of the songs Lilac Wine (Jeff Buckley version) and With or Without You (a song I actually can't stand) are perfect (the latter is even relevant to the plot!).

Fabulous experimental homage to French New Wave cinema; it is warm, perceptive, tender and funny without being pretentious - quite a feat for a film that features direct to camera narration, voice-over and one (superb) musical number. It's one of the few films I've seen that effectively portrays what it's like to feel your heart break, how no one can help you through it but yourself, how wallowing in depression can be an addiction, and how the smallest incident can gradually take you out of it.

Romain Duris (The Beat That My Heat Skipped) as the heartbroken Paul, and Louis Garrel (The Dreamers) as womanising Jo, two of France's most talented actors, give effortlessly truthful performances as the brothers. A number of narrative tricks and 'gimmicks' are used but the film never stops flowing - this is what experimental cinema should be about. I loved every minute - more please!

Hell (L'Enfer as it's known in its native France) is the second film in a planned trilogy that began with the underrated Heaven directed by Tom Tykwer and starring Cate Blanchett and Giovanni Ribisi, based upon scripts by the late, great Krzsztof Kieslowksi (the Three Colours trilogy). The two films share little in common aside from their 'unclassifiableness' and their emotional power.

A difficult film to analyse, Hell, directed by Academy Award winner Danis Tanovic (No Man's Land) is overflowing with ideas concerning philosophy, psyche, and emotional detachment and yet is still accessible, unpretentious and, whilst it takes itself necessarily seriously, it is also sometimes blackly funny. There's an exceptional eye for detail that's appropriately worthy of Kieslowski himself; even the opening credits concerning the plight of a bird and the eggs she is watching is gripping and gives the first insight into some of the horror that lies ahead. Although, in all probability, as with Heaven, the title is meant to be ironic, for despite some excellently shot shocks, a pervading sense of dread and a creepily effective final scene, there is some hope to the characters' lives as the film unwinds its secrets.

Stunning cinematography, a thoughtful color scheme (each story thread seems to have its own tone), featuring a nicely dramatic music score and complimented by a trio of leading French actresses giving nuanced performances (Emmanuelle Béart, Karin Viard and Marie Gillain), Hell is very impressive.

An engrossing, cleverly constructed film from Michael Haneke (Hidden, The Piano Teacher). Since Haneke continually refuses to answer any questions regarding his films or the meaning of his themes (a word he hates), I can only offer my own opinion as to what is going on here.

Incomplete scenes showing moments in the lives of a French African teacher in a school for the deaf, a Romanian refugee, a photographer, a teenage runaway and an aspiring actress are cut together, possibly in sequential order, and intersect and connect in various, sometimes subtle ways. The film seems to be about the ways in which these characters feel alienated in society. There are breakdowns in communication because of generational differences, xenophobia, apathy, personal aspirations and more besides.

Each 'moment' finishes with an abrupt blackout, sometimes with characters in mid sentence, and the couple of seconds between two segments often feels likes a chance to absorb what is going on, or allow for a 'breather'. Aside from one ingenious segment where the question of reality comes into focus, each scene is filmed without cuts, either with the camera positioned statically or on tracks, which seems to both heighten realism whilst maintaining an artificial feel, if that's even possible.

I'm not exactly sure if the film is entirely successful and some of the scenes feel superfluous, but there's some gripping and thoughtful stuff here. Juliette Binoche is especially excellent as the actress, with one particularly stand-out scene where she rehearses for a film role direct to camera; her performance (of a performance) had me utterly gripped for the few minutes the section lasted.

Absolutely stunning film, telling the story of Zac and his family of four older brothers, mother and father over 25 years from his birth in 1960. I have so many superlatives for this film I risk spouting hyperbole, but this is truly a terrific piece of work.

Zac, born on Christmas day, grows up in a Catholic family (and his mother is convinced that that his date of birth means he has powers to heal the sick) feeling isolated, an outcast - he feels inexplicably different and longs only to fit in. As a child, Zac seems to be favored by his father but as he enters his teens there's a key shift change in their relationship and things are never the same.

This has to be one of the most successful coming of age films, and more specifically, coming out films I have ever seen. C.R.A.Z.Y. features an exceptional performance from Marc-André Frondin as Zac, who convinces as a 15 year old right up until his mid twenties, inspired direction, with an array of camera and effects techniques that never grow tired and avoid pastiche, a perfect soundtrack (Rolling Stones, David Bowie, Patsy Kline, Pink Floyd) and a resonant, moving story. Gripping from beginning to end credits, the film finishes on a hopeful note that feels genuinely earned. *Love* it.

"...you and I are the same. We're both going to die soon."

In Time to Leave (Le Temps Qui Reste), thirty year-old Romain (Melvil Poupaud), a successful fashion photography, is diagnosed with cancer, and his prognosis is not good. He decides to forego the chemotherapy that would give him a slim chance of prolonged survival, and, unable to tell his boyfriend - who he subsequently breaks up with - or his immediate family, he instead confides only in his grandmother (Jeane Moreau). From there, he tries to find acceptance and meaning in his mortality, and is given an opportunity he never thought he would have after a chance encounter with a waitress.

This is a lyrical, intimate and economical film, without even a hint of artifice in the writing or the performances (Melvil Poupaud is surely an actor to watch). Refreshingly free from sentimentality, with realistic characters - Romain is not exactly a hero and doesn't become one in the course of the film - and a script with few words but which has a lot to say. Writer-director François Ozon filmed Time to Leave in cinemascope, an interesting choice for such a small-scale film, but one that rewards with a staggeringly, beautifully shot denouement. A thoughtful, moving film.

Based on true events (though the opening prologue is surely an invention of the screenwriters), Them (or Ils to give it the correct French title) is a simple, stylish chase story disguised as a horror. French couple Clémentine, a teacher, and Lucas, a novelist, who live in a house in the woods in Romania, find their fairly cushy lives interrupted suddenly when strange clicking noises signal the arrival of 'them' - unseen assailants who take away their car (their only hope of escape since they are so deep in the woods), break in through the doors and windows, trip the fuses and cut the telephone wires. Terrified, Clémentine and Lucas try first to hide and when that fails, to escape, but find themselves consistently surrounded and running out of options.

Short, scary and competently acted, Them doesn't stick around long enough to properly comment on the irony of the assailants identities, but there's some really fantastic camera work, brilliant sound editing and a stunning so-near yet so-far almost escape that will make you sit up in awe.

A masterpiece, excellent in every field, it is proof of the power of forgiveness, compassion, altruism. Review later, watch it now.

This French/Canadian production is the latest in a recent trend of extreme French cinema, alongside films such as Frontière(s), Haute Tension and À l'intérieur. This is undoubtedly the most effective of them, however, with an ingenious, genre-bending plot, extraordinary twists, lots of ideas and plenty of scares to justify the blood-letting. Unlike À l'intérieur, Martyrs is making valid points, and despite its excesses I found it moving and imbued with tragedy (though it's still undeniably difficult to watch). Morjana Alaoui and Mylène Jampanoï both give exceptional performances that propel the film, and Pascal Laugier's direction is assured. Maybe I'm having some sort of short/long term memory glitch (i.e. déjà vu), but I'm sure that I've read somewhere about something similar to the concluding events in this film before, making it even more personally haunting, weirdly... resonant. The ending could be interpreted as mean-spirited or nihilistic. I prefer to think of it as existentialist. This is the stuff of nightmares, and dreams.

Despite the heartache, accidents and unhappiness, I would live in this film if I could. Cédric Klapisch's Paris brilliantly and subtly intertwines vignettes - characters from across the city and beyond, scratching below their surfaces to explore their desires, regrets, hopes. It has a wide scope, yet always feels intimate. It's a love-letter to the city, yes, but is not overly idealistic and though the city looks picture-perfect beautiful, that doesn't mean the people who inhabit it aren't miserable, numb, or angst-ridden. Pierre, as played by the always fantastic Romain Duris, is not un-ironically the heart of the film. Suffering from a serious and life-threatening condition, he lives through others - walking to his balcony on freezing cold mornings he looks down at the city below and imagines what lives the people in cars, on park benches and behind partially closed blinds must lead. Of course, over the film's length there are reunions, shared understandings, loves found and lost, and purposes renewed or reinvigorated. Despite the familiar trajectory Paris continually feels fresh, even when indulging in such clichés as the affair between a professor with a midlife crises and an aspiring student, or a soon-to-be father who wonders if his life was all it was meant to be. A lot of this is down to an exceptionally good cast who generally keep things understated, some stunning photography and skilful editing, and a truly sublime music score. By the time the perfect ending rolled around, I was truly captivated.

Jacques Audiard's third masterpiece in a row after Read My Lips and The Beat That My Heart Skippd. All three films could arguably be part of the 'gangster' genre but are all very different from each other. Here, Tahar Rahim gives a performance of strength, subtlety and, as the film progresses, increasing charisma as Malik - an illiterate French-Arab-Corsican jailed for an apparently minor crime. It is one of the many painful ironies of the film that Malik had to go to jail to become a master criminal, the catalyst for which was the threat of his own life if he did not carry out a 'mission' (read murder) on behalf of the Corsican gang who seemingly rule the prison. A Prophet takes time to tell a shattering, moving and downright disturbing story, one which is beautifully directed, edited, photographed, scored and acted. Flawless.

An unusual but refreshingly straightforward film that sensitively shows how the beginning of the AIDS epidemic affects a group of connected friends. Beautifully filmed, the screenplay keeps things relatively pared back and serves the actors well - the power and intensity comes from the terrific performances instead of artificial melodrama. An intelligent and adult film.

One of those incredibly romantic films that tears up sexuality labels that the French do so well. Christophe Honoré, who made one of my most favorite films - Dans Paris - continues his experiment with visuals and extends the single musical number in that film to a full musical here (the influence of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is clear). The English subtitles occasionally lose some of the poetry of the songs in translation, but this is an unavoidable and minor quibble. Technically a joy and great performances too, especially from Louis Garrel, Clotilde Hesme, and the adorable Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet. A joyful, positive film.

"Love me less, but love me a long time."

A joyous, funny, clever and unexpectedly moving film - an instant favorite - and another masterpiece from Cédric Klapisch. A celebration of Europe and a melting pot of different cultures, languages and personalities, with every one of the expertly detailed characters interesting and someone you would love to know. The cast - especially Romain Duris who can do no wrong, and Kelly Reilly who is effortlessly charming as well as amusingly neurotic - are superb across the board. Consistently inventive technically, artistically and intellectually. J'adore.

A beautiful film concerning a father's denial and then desperation as his production company gets deeper and deeper into the red, and the gradual and eventually all encompassing effect this has on his family. An abrupt and shocking but nonetheless truthful turn of events half-way through shifts all the dynamics but Mia Hansen-Løve's humanistic script and plotting and deceptively simple direction is never disruptive. Strong, naturalistic performances across the board (especially from the three children). A perceptive, moving and deeply profound piece of French cinema.

One of several European films I've seen this year that has what is essentially a very ordinary story but that is made with such conviction and power that I was left dumbstruck at the end. Leaving unusually has our lead confessing her affair to her husband very early on and the route it takes - the result of that affair - is what propels the story. Admittedly, not a whole lot in terms of plot actually happens until the bleak and very effective final third, but what a final third, with Kristn Scott Thomas simply brilliant as Suzanne. The critic Mark Kermode was right when he said she does "staring into the void" very well; when her happiness is taken away it is written all over her face. Uncomfortable viewing that has stayed with me, but cinema par excellence.

I adore these kinds of films; character driven, well acted, uncomplicated in terms of plot, emotive and perceptive. The French seem to do them especially well. Isabelle Carré, who really was pregnant during filming, is a revelation in understatement - if that isn't a contradiction in terms. She is wary but not shy, delicate but inquisitive, and her reactions are incredibly natural and real. Louis-Ronan Choisy complements her very well as the gay brother of her dead lover - he has a haunted quality in some of his scenes but radiates warmth. Mathieu Hippeau and François Ozon's screenplay is excellent and Mousse's "self-rehab" from drug addiction is handled sensitively and non-sensationally (very different from the melodramatic methods used in most Hollywood films) - she simply gets on with it and tries to make the best she can of an awful situation. I was also very impressed with the ambiguous & open ending that successfully gives closure whilst making no promises of happiness, just hope. François Ozon, a director of immense skill and versatility, has made an unshowy, unforced film on addiction, birth and rebirth, no mean feat. Le Refuge is excellent stuff.

Justice is blind. So is vengeance.

"Every time you torture that man, you're killing your daughter again."

This is *so* not the movie I was expecting. Honestly, the marketing gets this all wrong but I understand why: it's pitched as a kind of Saw/Hostel torture-porn (I *hate* that term) - a film in which the lead well get bloody and sadistic revenge on the man who raped then murdered his 8 year-old daughter, over the course of one week. This is not what 7 Days is at all. It's a shocking film there's no doubt about that, and it is graphic in places. But what it isn't is exploitative or sensationalist. It's bloody and gory but the film does not intend the viewer to get off on this. Neither, however, is the viewer necessarily invited to be feeling the victim's pain or empathising with him, given the horrific crime he himself has perpetrated. Instead, it's a meditation on grief, an exploration of vengeance, and finally, like all good films should be, it's an argument that vengeance is simply not an answer. An eye for an eye, to paraphrase Ghandi, will make the world blind. There is a turning point that you can see from the reactions and the body language of lead actor Claude Legault (here giving a performance of real substance and complexity) where there's a realisation that things are not working out the way they had been planned for. From here, the film *could* have easily gone one of two ways, but instead there are no easy answers, no offensive rhetoric.

Towards the end of this film is one of the most moving scenes I have ever seen. I won't spoil it here, but it's a brave thing to have written and shot as it could have so easily been fudged. Instead, it quietly elevates 7 Days to something quite extraordinarily brilliant.

A powerful film that details an important historical event (though here in a fictionalised story) - that of the Vel d'Hiv round up - the capture and deportment of Jews by the French and their later encampment and murder. The story told through the eyes of Sarah - a young girl whose family is captured and whose brother she attempts to save by locking him in a secret cupboard in their apartment - is powerful, shocking and moving. At the same time, in modern day France, Kristin Scott Thomas gives a typically stunning performance as Julia, a journalist investigating the events of 1942 who discovers the apartment that her husband wants to move into was once lived in by Sarah and her family. As her personal life begins to take an unexpected turn, she becomes more involved with finding out what happened to Sarah, her brother, and her relatives.

For the first two thirds, Sarah's Kery barely puts a foot wrong. The film is never sensationalist but pucks a mighty punch, with some truly distressing but necessary sequences as we learn more about Sarah's life whilst also finding how this fits in with Julia's investigations. It really is brilliant stuff. Alas, the final third, though still very watchable, loses grip somewhat and becomes more about Julia's journey, which it has to be said, is beyond mild compared to Sarah's story, and neither the compelling performances or solid direction quite re-capture anything close to the opening 70 minutes. Still, Sarah's Key is a unique and poignant film and the final line will leave not a dry eye in the house.

Nothing earth-shattering but a kinetic, efficient thriller that rarely lets up. You can practically hear Hollywood scraping the remake together. The ending is, shall we say, odd.

A difficult to categorise, deeply immersive beautifully shot and acted anti-thriller. Romain Duris puts in a typically impressive performance as a hard-working father who had dreams of being a photographer which he put aside in favour of the security of a well paid job. When he discovers his wife is having an affair with a professional photographer (who has yet to get his 'big break'), he confronts the man and in an altercation accidentally kills him. Rather than confessing (he fears he would be forever be labelled a murderer), he covers up the crime and in an elaborate plan, steal the photographer's identity and fakes his own death. Setting off with a camera he pursues the dream career he always wanted, but is now a broken wreck of a man looking to atone...

There are at least half a dozen shifts in this wonderfully different film, all of which subtly change the tone of the film without interrupting the flow. Whilst the story occasionally indulges in coincidences for the most part the film feels realistic, and Duris' nuanced study really helps you to believe in him and essentially hope for his 'deliverance'. Stunningly cinematography, almost poetic editing and an open ending combined with spare writing mark The Big Picture out as one of the masterpieces of French cinema. Really worth tracking down.

François Ozon's films, even those that aren't entirely successful, are always worth seeing, and Sous le Sable is certainly no exception. This is one of his "deceptively simple" films, that, like Le Refuge, explores one or two themes but in realistic, surprising and moving ways. Here, Charlotte Rampling offers a quietly impressive role as Marie, whose husband Jean goes for a swim in the sea whilst vacationing and is never seen again, apparently drowned. Marie refuses to accept that he is gone, even his physical presence, let alone his life, and thinks of him and refers to him in the present tense, her grief too awful, traumatic, impossible to 'indulge' in. Deeply complex, the film concentrates almost only on her denial and how she is able (initially) to make excuses for Jean's absence in her life, and at home when alone, imagine he is there (though 'imagine' is not strictly true - delusional is more appropriate but that word also has connotations of madness that may not apply). It's not easy viewing in any sense of the word, but Ozon is absolutely in control of all the elements and Rampling's performance, which seems perpetually on the edge of shattering, is nothing less than perfectly observed, but also restrained, understated, all in facial expressions (see also the work of Kristin Scott-Thomas and Lauren Ambrose). An extraordinary film.

Army of Crime is a deceptively complex film detailing the true story of a resistance against the Nazi's in France, made up of many different nationalities and ethnicities. It's a still shocking moment in history that is little known about (at least in the UK), and there are many genuinely jolting and moving sequences in this superbly directed, edited and acted film. What sets this apart from similar cinematic explorations, such as Flame and Citron, is the depth explored, particularly with regard to whether vengeance/targeted assignations is an appropriate response, and the layered characterisation. Missak Manouchian and Thomas Elek's journies' are especially fascinating, given vitality and believability by the remarkable performances from Simon Abkarian and Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet respectively. A wonderfully sad but immersive film.