Die Kunst, verliebt zu sein

I saw this film in Paris in its' original presentation. Having a firm understanding of French cultural reference is essential in order to fully appreciate this story and all of its' characters. It enjoys a dedicated underground following, in Paris, that is of the same quality as Death in Venice.

Tacchella, who is famous for the warm, joyful "Cousin-Cousine" gives us a very downbeat, intense sort of soapie about a cold, egocentric young art critic, who learns to love through his involvement with the occupants of his apartment building. It's very difficult to like him and to believe in some of the artificial plot developments, but there are some very truthful scenes, performed by an excellent cast.

This story of a snooty young critic at the centre of several plotlines throughout his apartment block has only one major problem; though we're pulled into all of the plots, the makers leave all but ONE of them unresolved. While this was intentional (the one that's seen through to its conclusion is the one that's most important to our hero), it's very frustrating. This may not be Hollywood, but even so some closure is good. But apart from that...