Following last year’s delightful Dans Paris, Christophe Honoré has taken a turn for the pretentious with this Paris-set musical, which comes off as equal parts Jacques Demy and Mork and Mindy.
As Ismaël, Louis Garrel has created a character so extremely difficult to show any affection for, you’ve got more chance of shedding a tear over a victimised paedo. Constantly making silly faces, bizarre hand gestures and showing off like a goddamn pro, Garrel really needs to dilute this painful funny guy act before he unleashes it on an unsuspecting public.
Forced to regulate his vivacious manner after his girlfriend (Ludivine Sagnier) drops dead in a nightclub from, it is suggested, a broken heart (wretch!), Ismaël deals with this time of sadness by opening his emotional flood gates to all manner of sexual experimentation. The film’s title relates to the fact that the (very loose) narrative is interspersed with a selection of sub-Jacques Brel ditties, which contain some of the most embarrassingly awful lyrics imaginable.
The idea that Honoré hopes to capture the genuine grief of losing someone close to you via a series of smugly worded chansons which sound like they were composed by someone who makes radio jingles is laughable. By the end you’ll be fighting for breath under a gelatinous mound of French whimsy. We’d like to say that there’s a plus side to all of this, but sadly, we just can’t think of one.
