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From:
Category: Films
Date: 26 July 2004
You forgot to mention the most annoying things about this film: Julie's appallingly contrived French accent and her hackneyed "Look at me, I'm a french sex kitten" mannerisms. Once you learn to ignore this, you can start to live through their experience with them. As a mirror to the fragility and difficulty of initimate communication in our own lives, this film captures the essence of this beautifully. We wish we were them. We wish we had the balls and the opportunity to say to our lovers and our ex-lovers exactly what we think and feel. May be we would say the same things. Like us, they prevaricate and spend too much time labouring over something of no real interest before they get down to business in speaking what they really feel. It doesn't matter that some of the lines are sugary cliches. We taste reality and love them all the more for it. The lines don't need to be clever. It's better that they're not. Who is in these situations? It's good that the film doesn't try to stray into existentialist French navel gazing which I thought it may do when they start dabbling in buddhist theory in the furtherest nearby cafe in Paris. The strolling pace sweeps you along nicely and gives you time to listen to their conversation. Go and remind yourself what it's like to fall in love.
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