MRS. HARRIS GOES TO PARIS

 Lesley Manville     Isabelle Huppert     Lucas Bravo     Ellen Thomas

Jason Isaacs     Anna Chancellor     Alba Baptista     Rose Williams

            This is a feel-good movie through and through, although rather pie-in-the sky.  I gather the point of the story is that kindness begets kindness from a London dance hall to the House of Dior in Paris…except when it doesn’t.

            Mrs. Ada Harris (played superbly by Lesley Manville) is a kindly, sparkly cleaning woman who gets a glimpse of a Dior gown at Lady Dant’s (Chancellor), one of her wealthy employers.  Another theme of the drama is about one’s dreams and the importance of following them through to reality.  With something more than a mere glimpse of the dress, Mrs. Harris envisions herself wearing it, which brings on dreams of being able to buy such a work of art.  She immediately takes on extra work and devises other ways to earn enough to go to Paris to achieve her dream.

            This will be no easy challenge, and Mrs. Harris runs into many obstacles as well as the kindness of others to achieve her goal.  Just getting her foot in the door of the Dior establishment will be one of her biggest discouragements.  Obstacle is personified by the intimidating directress Mrs. Colbert (Huppert), the woman behind the success of Dior himself, along with snobby self-entitled wealthy clients who disdain her being in their midst. 

            The creators of Mrs. Harris are clearly in sympathy with workers who are exploited by their employers, so that theme is woven into the action as well.  With all the varied issues at hand, Director Anthony Fabian with three co-writers (including the author of the novel on which it is based, Paul Gallico) are successful in meshing together all these themes to create an entertaining story.  To do this, they have included many coincidental meetings and unlikely stories of generosity, but the uplifting messages can be inspiring, even the part about Sartre and Existentialism.

            The two well-known actresses Manville and Huppert are again remarkable in capturing the essences of their characters and sustaining the most entertaining aspects of the drama.  Strong support is provided by Lucas Bravo as Dior’s accountant and Ellen Thomas as Ada’s faithful friend back in London.   

 

For a light, sometimes very funny, movie experience, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris will surely entertain those who have even a passing interest in haute couture. 

 

Grade:  B                              By Donna R. Copeland

FRANKIE

Isabelle Huppert     Brendan Gleeson     Marisa Tomei     Greg Kinnear     Jeremie Renier

     This is a sad story in many ways—not agonizingly so—but sorrowful and melancholic.  Frankie, or rather Francoise Cremant, is a successful film star with many admirers (played by the inimitable Huppert).  She has an occasion to invite her complex family group for a vacation in the resort town of Sentra, Portugal, with striking views of the sea, the sky, hillsides, and the village—everywhere the eye turns.  But this is in sharp contrast with the lack of intimacy and veiled feelings of disquiet that permeate the group, some wrestling with relationships, some with illness, some with other kinds of dissatisfaction. 

     Frankie is there with her second husband Jimmie (Gleeson) who clearly adores her, but she is somewhat ephemeral and drifts off from time to time for solo walks. They never seem to have a conversation of substance.  Her current primary aim is to find a mate for her son Paul (Renier), who is moving to New York.  So she has the not so subtle idea of inviting her good friend Ilene (Tomei) to come as well.  She lives in New York (she has been Frankie’s hairdresser for a number of movies, and they’ve become good friends), and she thinks she is helping Paul by introducing him to Ilene. Paul is not pleased, and has the only outburst in this mostly agonizingly quiet gathering.  Unbeknownst to Frankie beforehand, Ilene has brought her friend Gary (Kinnear) with her.  

     In addition to these guests, Jimmie’s daughter has also arrived with her husband and daughter.  And Frankie’s first husband Michel (Paul’s father) is present as well.

     The whole entourage is a bit like a tour bus of travelers passing through, exchanging pleasantries, meeting and chatting on street corners or joining in walks together.  There are occasional arguments between a couple in their room, but at no time do we see the whole family all together enjoying a meal or sharing experiences.  There are only little groups of two or three, in which a conversation of depth or of personal importance might get started, but then trails off.

     Frankie has hopes that this reunion—which could be their last—will be congenial and close.  But it’s clear to the observer that their connections have never been freewheeling and intimate, where significant events are discussed and worked through.  So we get the impression the family’s typical ways of coping with major life events will be repeated here  Interestingly, the structure and dynamics of the film seem to be derived from the kind of family director Ira Sachs and his co-writer Mauricio Zacharias have created.  As a consequence, we never learn enough about the characters to really know them and care about them. Each vignette about a couple/family/individual is just a snippet so short we can’t possibly get an idea of who they are.  Similarly, drama and deep emotional concerns are never allowed to surface.  

Visually, this is a gorgeous film, but it lacks real human warmth and understanding.  The icon Huppert cannot compensate for a limpid script.

Grade:  C-                                    By Donna R. Copeland

GRETA

Chloe Grace Moretz     Isabelle Huppert     Maika Monroe     Stephen Rea     Zawe Ashton

     Like many thrillers, Greta has a benign start in someone showing kindness to another.  Francis (Moretz) finds a purse left on the subway, with ID, cash, etc., inside.  Her roommate Erica (Monroe) sees it as an opportunity for a spa day, but Francis is an honest, kindhearted soul who sees it as a duty (and a privilege) to return it personally to its owner.  That is Greta Hideg (Huppert), a charming widow who is very grateful and offers Francis tea and company.  They chat, and Francis learns that Greta has not only lost her husband and her dog, but her daughter is in France.  Out of genuine empathy, Francis offers to help Greta find another dog.  This is politely refused; however, soon after they part, Greta calls on the phone and takes Francis up on her offer.  

     Francis does indeed help Greta, and as they spend some time together, they become friends.  This is somewhat to the chagrin of Francis’ roommate, Erica, who finds that Francis’ time with Greta means less time with Erica.  “Why do you want to spend so much time with an old lady?” she asks, and suggests that Greta stands in for Francis’ mother who passed away the year before. Francis is dismissive of this charge; however, when she is at Greta’s soon after, she finds something disturbing, and decides to end her friendship with Greta.

     Ah, things are never so simple in a thriller.  As she tries to extricate herself, Francis confronts a needy, controlling stalker who is determined to hold onto her. Stalking is only the beginning of the horrors that are in store for Francis.  

     This is the place where I had problems with the movie; at this point, it piles on so much, more and more, it loses its appeal, and becomes a laborious slog to get to the end.  Before it does wrap up, there are entertaining scenes with Erica back in the picture to enliven it. 

     This film pales against Huppert’s previous film, The Piano Teacher, partly because it does not delve into the perpetrator’s psychological past.  We see that Greta is lonely and that she has a checkered past, but we’re not shown the antecedents to her obsessions.

     Isabelle Huppert is her inimitable witchy threat who sends chills up your spine with her craftiness and manipulative ways.  Moretz has her character match Greta’s terror with her innocence, naïveté, and compassionate willingness to help others.  This juxtaposition is one of the strongest assets of the film.  Stephen Rea’s cameo offers additional thrills, and Maika Monroe’s savvy solution to the problem is clever.  One of the biggest faults of the story, however, is her character’s suggestion to Francis to apologize to Greta and take responsibility for a “misunderstanding.”  This is a weak plot turn that seems stupid on its face, in view of the severely disturbed character they are dealing with.

Despite minor weaknesses, this is a tight thriller that will entertain you.

Grade:  C+                                    By Donna R. Copeland

THINGS TO COME

Isabelle Huppert     Andre Marcon     Roman Kolinka     Sarah Le Picard     Solal Forte     Edith Scob

          This is a French film for thinkers—people who like to ponder questions about life, love, and wellbeing.  Nathalie (Huppert) is a philosophy teacher with a passion for her subject, which radiates out to her students, who revere her and even come close to loving her.  She speaks to their inner selves at a time when demonstrations and petitions are swirling around the campus.  One student in particular, Fabien (Kolinka) stops by her classroom after he has graduated to thank her for her guidance.

           We get glimpses of how Nathalie conducts her classes, in her posing questions such as, “Is truth debatable, as contrasted with belief?”  Or she gives them a Rousseau quote to think about and be prepared to discuss:  “If there were a nation of gods, it would govern itself democratically.  A government so perfect is not suited to men.”  This academic material in the film is always presented with different points of view, and refrains from claiming one side or the other is right. 

          Home is a different story, where Nathalie’s two teenage children tease her a bit about her intellectual connections, and her husband—who is also an intellectual, but much more dispassionate—is slightly scornful of her.  Their interactions are far from loving, and clearly bother the children.  It’s interesting that Chloe (LePicard) lets her father know that she and her brother are aware of his affair, and want him to tell their mother right away, which he does.  But what’s more interesting is that when he does tell her, she is stunned (they’ve been together for 25 years), and immediately asks why he didn’t keep it a secret from her.  After he lets her know he is moving out and she has time to process the information, then the anger appears. 

        However, this is not the usual tale of a man leaving his wife of many years.  Even though it is at a time when her children are leaving home, her dependent mother is dying, and her publisher is attempting to commercialize her work, Nathalie is resolute, and soon realizes that she is free—truly free—for the first time in her life.  What she makes of it is the main point of the film, along with a parallel theme of political issues the masterful writer/director Mia Hansen-Løve throws out for us to ponder.  She does it through Nathalie’s classes and through her relationships and conversations with the former student Fabien and his fellow provocateurs.  In these thought-provoking discussions, generational differences in perspective are apparent.  Upon being confronted by Fabien about her lifestyle not being guided by a “thought system”, Nathalie says, “I’m too old to be radical; I’ve done that, been there before.  I’ve changed.” Fabian’s girlfriend softly retorts, “But the world is the same, only worse.”  At another time, Nathalie explains more fully: “Revolution is not my goal.  Mine is more humble; it’s to help kids think for themselves.”

        Isabelle Huppert is her usual mix of coolness and mysteriousness in playing her character.  She has no trouble keeping us engaged with her as the main focus for almost the entire film.  She is backed up here by the fine, thoughtful script and astute direction of Mia Hansen-Løve.  The writer/director is the daughter of two philosophy teachers who talked about their work at home, so the insertion of deep philosophical questions into the dialog comes across naturally and authentically.  Music by Raphael Hamburger is delightful or sad, depending on the context, and Cinematography by Denis Lenoir is first-rate.

A quietly brilliant film about an older woman adapting to major changes in her life with humor and soft resolution.

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland

ELLE

Isabelle Huppert     Laurent Lafitte     Charles Berling     Judith Magre     Anne Consigny

          The movie opens with a black screen and the sounds of a brutal rape underway, and the first image to appear is a cat with expressive eyes. The victim Michèle (Huppert) calmly gets up after the masked perpetrator leaves, sweeps up broken glass and remnants of clothing, puts them in the trash, and goes to work.  Michèle is a complicated woman—as are all of Huppert’s characters.  Our next surprise is that she owns a video game business with her partner and best friend Anna (consigny), overseeing a cohort of young male designers.  She’s not very well liked, although in some contexts we see her as very charming, even charismatic. 

          Ambivalence underlies all her relationships—with the staff, with her ex-husband, her son and his girlfriend, her mother, and a lover.  She clearly has a mean streak, and when she does things like seek out her ex-husband’s current girlfriend, we wonder what she is about (this becomes more clear across time).  In the meantime, she casually lets those around her know that she was raped, does not want to go to the police, and proceeds to try to identify the intruder.  She buys things to defend herself with in case he returns, but does not install an alarm system.  Further, when she identifies him, she doesn’t take the appropriate action immediately, although she does have her own plan.

          We get hints from time to time about Michèle’s murky past, which involved her father being imprisoned for life, and her own picture as a child being published in the stories about his crime.  Despite her mother’s urging her to visit him, her response shows she is revolted by the thought.  We never actually get a full explanation about her history with him.

        Huppert is stunning in her portrayal of the character in Elle, and the film has been submitted by France in the Best Foreign Film category.  Paul Verhoevan (Basic Instinct, RoboCop, Black Book) directed it, based on Philippe Djian’s novel, with screenplay by David Birke.  My problem with the film is its lack of psychological coherence, particularly in the Michèle character, despite Huppert’s excellent performance.  That is, her motivations and actions are so contradictory, it becomes difficult to see them embodied in a single person who is believable.  She is secretive, yet thinks nothing of expressing her emotions inappropriately at social gatherings.  She engages in highly risky behaviors with surprising people, but seems to be a very good businesswoman.  She is calculating, yet overreacts sometimes with little information or misinformation.  Her reasons for not contacting the police on several occasions are never explicated.

         The men surrounding Michèle tend to be no match for her in the least.  Her ex-husband is something of an “effete intellectual”; her son doesn’t have the foggiest notion of how to succeed in life and cannot handle his girlfriend; her lover is demanding but shows no affection for her; and her father is serving a lifetime jail sentence.  I’m puzzled about why the novelist and screenwriter (both male) portray all the male characters in such a way.  On the other hand, they’ve also created a male who brutally rapes and batters a woman on more than one occasion.  Does this have meaning, perhaps?  Does it say something about deeper issues between men and women from the authors’ point of view?

          Elle is a fine production in many ways—most certainly Huppert’s performance—and it keeps the viewer locked into the story.  The music by Anne Dudley and the cinematography of Stèphane Fontaine are of fine artistic merit.  But flaws in the script and characterizations detract from it.

Brace yourself; this will puzzle you as much as interest you.

Grade:  B                                    By Donna R. Copeland

LOUDER THAN BOMBS

Gabriel Byrne     Isabelle Huppert     Jesse Eisenberg     Devin Druid     Amy Ryan     David Stathaim

            Louder than Bombs refers to the needs of this family of males crying out very loudly—not with their voices, but in their actions/inaction.  The mother in the family, Isabelle (Huppert) is dead, and clearly, from the flashbacks, she had an emotional connection with each of the males, but we see little of the family all together.  The marriage was clearly troubled, but this is not a family to reach out for help.  Both sons are sorely in need of therapy as well.  It’s a heartbreaking story for a psychologist to see, recognizing how much they could be helped if they only knew how.

         Isabelle is an internationally recognized news photographer who is away from home a lot.  She is typical of those we hear about who get such adrenaline rushes from their work, it keeps calling them back and they cannot resist, no matter how high the risks to family (Think Jeremy Renner in Hurt Locker and Juliette Binoche in A Thousand Times Goodnight).  Isabelle’s husband (Byrne) is loathe to ask her to stop, even though he apparently sacrificed a promising acting career for the sake of his family.  He is now a schoolteacher.

        Jonah (Eisenberg), the oldest son, seems to have been closest to his mother, and their emotional exchanges show how much empathy he feels for her.  He also has rapport with his father, and they have meaningful conversations, although Jonah doesn’t confide in his father about his marriage, even when he is going through a difficult time with it.

       Conrad (Druid) is the most taciturn of all, seldom speaking to anyone, even the girl he has a crush on and walks home from a late-night party.  He certainly won’t talk to his father, and rushes away any time his father tries to talk with him.  Not surprisingly, his fantasy life is full of violence.

        Among all these people, so much is left unsaid—even when they’re in excruciating pain—it’s astounding.  These people are like ships passing in the night, and it’s hard to believe they’re under the same roof.  But of course, there are families like this; they’re not a figment of the filmmakers’ imaginations. 

       I like the way the film shows each of the main characters’ points of view to show how different realities can be constructed and to encourage empathy with all of them.  It illustrates the knowledge and sensitivities of Joachim Trier (writer/director) and Eskil Vogt (writer) about people and families. 

    Byrne has a history of expert renditions of soulful, informed characters (e.g., In Treatment) trying to reach people who are closed off to him.  Huppert is one of those consummate portrayers of characters that get under the skin (The Piano Teacher) and incite controversy (Amour).  Eisenberg is in a period where he is exploring all kinds of different roles, and here, he is skillful in showing an older brother with conflict in every realm of his life, yet coming across as sincere to everyone.  Perhaps the youngest—Devin Druid—had the most difficult challenge of conveying so much with so little dialog, similar to Leonardo DiCaprio in the Revenant.

     I congratulate Joachim Trier and his collaborators on bringing out once again the experience and repercussions of death—particularly one that is self-determined.  This may be in the context of an unusually repressed family, but aspects of it will ring true to almost everyone.

Reverberating repercussions of a death, something you don’t want to see but should.

Grade:  A By Donna R. Copeland