Whatever you call it, it is a masterpiece that stands the test of time. Told from the perspective of an eight-year old girl, think "Pan's Labyrinth" without the scary monsters...and with Italian Fascists in place of their more sadistic Spanish counterparts. [It would be interesting to compare the post-war cinematic treatment of each European country's own Fascist brethren: for the Tavianis, the blackshirts retain a scrap of humanity: the movie stops long enough to show a father's grief over his dead son, and, in a surreal pause in the climactic battle in a wheatfield, two peasants from the same region share a moment of recognition before shooting at each other.]
As my post title suggests, I am here to review a *new* foreign film, the Closing Night entry by Frenchman Claude ("A Man and a Woman") Lelouch: Roman de Gare (2007). A stellar cast (headed by Fanny Ardant, last seen on these shores as the more attractive half of a bickering couple in "Paris, je t'aime"), intriguing premise, expertly filmed -- but I risk damning it with faint praise by comparing it to, and declaring it better than, a similarly-themed French literary mystery: Francois Ozon's "Swimming Pool" (which I hated). Both involve successful female novelists working on their next book in France. Both tease and confound audience expectations. But RdG doesn't play its audience for a FOOL by pulling the rug out from under it at the end of its 90-minute investment in the story, like a certain other movie did (I'm still bitter).
Instead, the audience is rewarded for its investment in this progressively unbelievable scenario by its mostly-believable characters, especially the character portrayed by French newcomer Audrey Dana. The Cesar-nominated Audrey Dana (for best breakthrough performance). As you can see, she is not a raven-haired gamine like Audrey Tatou, but more of a vulnerable, romantic blonde like Sandrine Kiberlain. I cannot wait for her next film.
The movie does unravel in its second half, and by its conclusion, you are painfully aware that this is the director who cannot stop remaking the hopelessly romantic (and ultimately empty) Un homme et une femme (that was 1966, Claude! Give it up!).
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The ending sucks.
