Fauteuils d'orchestre

I left the theater smiling. I'd had a really good time in a film that celebrates human diversity and the possibilities for contact between people in a big city. I found the performances really good, particularly Albert Dupontel as the pianist, Sydney Pollack as the American director, Dani as the theater concierge and Claude Brasseur as the aging art collector. Daniele Thompson has made two other films (which I haven't seen) and she must be one of the more talented filmmakers in France today.

The film abounds in wonderful set pieces which serve to reveal the character's qualities. When Catherine Versen meets Sobinski by chance in the restaurant, it's a deliciously comic encounter that shows her insecurity about playing in mediocre TV soaps. There she is, talking to the famous director, and she can't get the names of his films straight.

"The question is, what's this all about, and why must we concern ourselves with the 'predicaments' of people who from the looks of it are so singularly fortunate in life?" (Chris Knipp).

Chris Knipp, no offence, hasn't understood the movie's main idea at all. This, in my experience, is what the movie is all about – the separation between "high class" classical music and life. Classical music, as all music, stems from life itself, is inspired and shaped by it. One can see how, exemplified by the pianist, this form of human expression is put in the strait-jacket of so-called "high culture". Said pianist is fortunate indeed to have his talent, but he's hardly able to breathe, to enjoy and live his talents because he's made to put up a show, to dance to the tune of what he himself calls "the system".

Daniele and Christopher Thomspon's light melodrama "Avenue Montaigne" (AKA Fauteuils d'orchestre) paints a wandering portrait of life in Paris' theatre district, centered on a small bistro which brings together stars, writers, directors, musicians, celebrity worshipers, and waiters. Several story arcs involving a variety of somewhat neurotic main characters are woven together around the story of the single character who does not appear to indulge in any particular neuroses - Jessica (Cecile DeFrance), a young woman who has come to Paris in hopes of creating an independent life for herself. Tirelessly hopeful, homeless, and delightful, Jessica's willfulness and charming personality wins her a job as the first female employee of the bistro around which most of the stories evolve.

Here, our heroine meets a brilliant pianist who is sick of the constraints of his own success and is married to a beloved wife who has sacrificed her own career to support his (Lefort - Albert DuPontel); A father and son (the Grumbergs, played by Claude Brasseur and Christopher Thompson) whose strained relationship is complicated by the father's very successful habit of collecting great art; A very high-strung, experienced and intelligent aging actress, who is terrified that her greatest opportunities may lie behind her (Catherine - Valerie Lemercier), and others.

Jessica's elderly and somewhat senile grandmother, who raised her, plays a pivotal, but largely behind-the-scenes role in all of this. In a sense Jessica comes to Paris to allow her grandmother to vicariously live on through Jessica just as much as she does so in order to find her own path.

The stories implied above are very nicely juxtaposed and the overall structure of the film is reminiscent of other excellent French and Italian melodramas. Avenue Montaigne, as most mainstream melodramas do, pays off with resolution, but does not challenge believability (often a problem for modernistic melodrama) and is, like the complex characters it examines, not entirely predictable.

Uplifting, but honest and realistic, the film is very well acted all-around, excellently scripted and nicely directed and edited. I found Ms DeFrance, Valerie Lemercier and Albert Dupontel particularly outstanding. The soundtrack is also quite nicely integrated into the action of the film, sometimes giving the film a sometimes-needed touch of magical fantasy.

Highly recommended for the romance/melodrama crowd. Recommended for others.

As in most of the best French films, not a lot happens and people spend a lot of time talking about their problems but somehow it works. The central character played by Cecile de France is largely a ficelle designed to link together the subplots. Each of these involves an apparently enviable character - someone who's apparently got it made - who isn't as happy as he (or she) should be. The malaises of these rich and glitzy characters turn out to be universal human problems - ageing, family strife, boredom. One of the major themes of the film, beautifully woven through all the subplots, is that we should theorise about life (and art) less and respond to life (and art) in an emotionally direct way. Ergo I shall simply say I enjoyed it, I didn't get a numb behind and I was happier after I came out than when I went in. It's worth the price of admission for the Sidney Pollack restaurant scene alone.

An oh so cute, naive, guileless, and somewhat ditsy mademoiselle from the sticks comes to Paris to follow her grandmother's advice and "push her way in" and see what happens. She lands a job as a waitress in a little café that never hires women. She is hired because the owner needs help during a trifecta of events about to take place near the café. A recital by a great pianist; an opening of a new play starring a famous daytime TV comedienne; and an auction of an art collector's works.

As she waits on the customers, both in the café and in their work, she meets all three of the main players in the events. The poetic license taken is that all of these people would take time to chat; open up and share intimacies with our little gamine. But she is oh so cute, and oh so socially clueless, that she charms them. Through her meanderings we see all the stories of the main protagonists emerge. The pianist wants to quit formal recitals; feeling hemmed in by the pressure. The actress wants to break out of her "popular but shallow" roles; and the collector wants to sell off his possessions because he is dying and he needs the money for his last days with his mistress.

In the end all of the loose ends are tied up and our heroine ends up with the son of the collector. It's all very pleasant, and at times earnest, stuff - but it is all so derivative and staged!