Man muss mich nicht lieben

Stéphane Brizé's Not Here to Be Loved /Je ne suis pas là pour être aimé is the mournful character study of an aging, divorced court bailiff (a hussier de justice) who hand-delivers eviction notices and requisitions property -- a distasteful job and business passed on by his father which he understandably hates -- and on weekends goes to a retirement home where his father -- the dad from hell, whom it's utterly impossible to please -- makes cruel remarks to him. Life has little to offer the dour and unsmiling Jean-Claude till he starts going across the street from his office to attend a tango class (first glimpsed enticingly from afar like the dance studio in Almodóvar's Talk to Me). There he meets and starts seeing a much younger woman.

At his first class, he's approached by another student, Francoise (Anne Consigny), not because she's attracted to him but because his mother babysat for her when she was little. She's supposed to be marrying a schoolteacher named Thierry (Lionel Abelanski) whom she's already living with, not altogether happily. He has taken off half a year to write a book and does nothing but complain about how badly it's going. Francoise is obviously as displeased with Thierry as Jean-Claude is with his entire life. Both suffer with what the French call "mal de vie." Francoise and Jean-Claude are both bottled up and with their awkward silences they send confused signals to each other.

The movie isn't a happy ride but develops conviction and a subtle life-affirming feel thanks to the nuanced performance of sad-faced Patrick Chesnais – which got him nominated for a Best Actor César last year. Perhaps one of the reasons the French can make a film like this is their well-established willingness to see aging, unhandsome men as potentially attractive to the likes of Emmanuelle Béart and Catherine Deneuve. Chesnais has a kind of dignity that neither his deeply lined face nor his hangdog manner can erase. Anne Consigny is subtle as the lady friend, and longtime veteran film actor George Wilson is formidable as the hateful and ultimately pathetic father. Minimalist and depressing this film is, but not boring, because director and cast wring the ultimate riches from every moment.

There is much subtlety and humanity in this film, whose minimal plot and minimalist style give the actors and their characters maximum room for development within a narrow but compellingly real range of emotion. But for some the result may be a bit overshadowed by other treatments of shut-down male characters like Daniel Auteuil's violin-maker in Claude Sautet's luminous Un coeur en hiver. It seems possible that indeed this film in the series will not be picked up for US distribution because it's so downbeat. If so, a pity, because this movie is not only a subtle character study but one that's very French.

(Shown as part of the Rendez-Vous with French Cinema in New York's Lincoln Center in March 2006; Je ne suis pas là pour être aimé opened in Paris October 12, 2005.)

I went to see this movie because it was advertised as having Argentine tango in it. I am a tango dancer and I was completely blown away by it. But even so let me emphasize that this is not only a movie for tango dancers. I spoke to a non-tango dancer right after the showing and she was equally fascinated. But since this was the reason I wanted to see the film, I choose the tango angle to comment on it.

In this movie tango serves as a metaphor for how people communicate and "meet", in the truest sense of the word. But apart from this Argentinian input it is very French in so far as it has all the significant qualities of a typical French flick: long takes, close-ups, much silence, and intense but subtle emotions -- mostly all of the above at the same time. And altogether quite conducive to the tango content, much more so than an American production could have achieved I daresay.

All throughout the 20th century the Tango and France, especially Paris, have formed a lasting, passionate bond, a love affair that feeds both sides and still prospers. Tango is everywhere in Paris. It's as much part of the upper middle class culture as going to vernissages is. It is useful to know this, otherwise one could wonder how the main protagonist Jean-Claude Delsart, a middle-aged, very reclusive marshal, could so easily end up on the floor of the tango studio across the street from his office.

The way Argentine tango is portrayed in this movie is gracefully true to the soul of tango. It has only one "flashy" scene, a performance by a professional tango couple and as usual with public tango performances, I find this one of its weakest moments: pure form and posture, completely void of feelings and emotions.

But the important scenes in the studio do capture aptly what is so fascinating and endearing about (the mastering of) this dance: the carefulness and timidity in a beginner's approach toward his or her partner's body; the subtlety; the listening; the addictiveness of the intimate atmosphere; the beautiful, beautiful music; the gradually growing confidence and freedom; and

• sometimes, eventually - the passion.

Tango can, at times, have a quite positive and joyful air about it. But its origins have much more in common with what the Portuguese call "fado". A melancholic mood, full of heartache and longing, with the heaviness of reality weighing down on minds and souls that are capable of enduring deep sorrow and intense passion.

This is what the movie is about. "Je ne suis pas là pour être aimé" could be translated as "I do not exist to be loved". A stark, even cruel normative statement that is the point of departure for Delsart. The rest is a journey and, no, I will not tell where it ends. The story as it evolves is sometimes almost unbearably sad and yet the protagonists keep on living through it. The dance isn't over until the last note is played.

The tango metaphor works extremely well with this story and does so until the end. Compared to other "tango movies", this is one of the better ones. Of course, nothing beats Sally Potter's "The Tango Lesson" - but what could.

The only reason I don't give this movie full marks is the fact that some of the plot turns are a bit too predictable. But nevertheless, this is an engaging story well told, well made, with extraordinary characters. A modern fairy tale -- or maybe not?

Although this is only his second feature film one thing is sure about Stéphane Brizé : he is an auteur. Just consider the following similarities between "Le Bleu des Villes" and "Je ne suis pas là pour être aimé" : both Solange and Jean-Claude practice an unrewarding job (meter maid ; law officer), they both suffer from the situation without managing to express it clearly, both try after a while to change their lives, one through singing the other through dancing and find a new meaning to their lives. Other common points are Brizé's minimalist style, the heartfelt tone of his two films, the propensity to urge the viewer to never say die and to shape their own lives, a touch of humor and a wonderful knack for choosing the perfect actors.

Patrick Chesnais gives a model performance as Jean-Claude, suggesting his weariness, his suppressed dissatisfaction first, then his discovery of warmer world without changing his face expressions much. I keep wondering how he can achieve such efficiency doing so little. Anne Consigny, his partner, a theater and TV actress I didn't know before, blew me away : she can convey all the emotions in the world through her expressive look, her beautiful face and her irresistible smile. Take care Patrick, I fell in love with her too! Let's not forget Geoges Wilson who manages to make his grumpy character hateable and finally pathetic and Cyril Couton, a young actor that Stéphane Brizé also made me discover, moving in the role of Jean-Claude's withdrawn plant-loving son.

I'm now looking forward to seeing Stéphane Brizé's next movie. I simply hope he will need less than six years to be able to collect the money necessary to make it.

The fifty years old Jean-Claude (Patrick Chesnais) has a boring life, working in a notary office of his own and as court official evicting tenants or seizing properties, or spending the Sundays afternoons in the retirement home with his sour, rude and bitter father. When he has a minor heart problem, his doctor advises him to exercise, and Jean-Claude begins to have tango lessons in a studio in front of his office. He meets the charming forty and something years old Françoise (Anne Consigny), who is also having classes for her wedding party, and she recalls she was her neighbor in her childhood. They become close and love flourishes between them, changing their lives.

"Je ne Suis pas là Pour être Aimé" is a simple and pleasant romance. The story is credible, with human characters, effective screenplay, great direction and performances. The gorgeous Anne Consigny has one of the most beautiful and sweet smiles I have ever seen on the screen, and it is impossible not falling in love for such charming woman. The good actor Patrick Chesnais is miscast, with almost sixty years old in real life, and it is quite difficult to buy how such lovely woman would have a crush in such unattractive man. The melancholic music score is another plus in this nice film. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "Dançar – Despertar de um Desejo" ("Dance – Awake of a Desire")

This film might almost be called 'Not Here to be Watched', it is so intimate. One feels intrusive as a viewer. Anne Consigny is entrancing as the quiet, thoughtful girl who not only says little but moves few facial muscles, other than to smile engagingly most of the time. One can't take one's eyes off her. She has that 'something special' which cannot be quantified or defined, but you just have to keep staring at her, as if she were a new species, suddenly discovered, of unknown habits, who might do or say anything but never does. This quiet, brooding film carries introspection and intimacy to new cinematic extremes, and invents a higher definition for 'subtlety'. The characters are deeply depressed and wholly incapable of expressing themselves, so that this is a not a film to watch if you are feeling down. On the other hand, manic depressives might be cheered up by it, because they would see that there can after all be communication between moles in adjoining tunnels. The tango provides the medium for this cheek to cheek resonance which transcends speech. Patrick Chesnais and Georges Wilson as his father are superbly inarticulate, having both mastered the art of non-communication. This film is deeply sensitive, in the same way that small mammals are: it blinks its eyes wonderingly as we shine light into its face: 'Am I really on camera?' Yes. And you are doing really well. A wonderful wallow in disabled humanity with suppressed needs. Although I felt sorry for the characters, I wanted to kick them in the backsides and make them snap out of it and 'get a life', preferably each other's.