Ma femme est une actrice

A French actress leaves home to shoot a film in London, her husband, a sports reporter gets jealous of her love scenes with co-star Terence Stamp, and the plot leaves a myriad standard devices open for an amiable French farce. Well-acted within modest aspirations, Ma Femme Est Une Actrice is a delightful little film that keeps your attention sufficiently to stay away and want to read the subtitles.

Today I had the privilege of viewing "My Wife is an Actress" at a preview for the San Francisco International Film Festival. I highly recommend the French comedy, which I understand is being released by Sony in May.

Without having realized the male lead Atal is also the Writer & Director, it's all the more amazing how one can juggle so many tasks effectively. Likely this is because it is undoubtedly based on his real life, including his real life wife playing his wife (the actress).

I know this type of setup has been done before, but the behind the scenes element of a movie set is very appealing. Atal lets us in on the filming and behind the scenes monotony of film making. Terence Stamp, as the English speaking actor of some note, is a true delight as usual.

In particular, the opening montage and a scene not for the modest should be taken note of for their own appeal.

I believe only the true cynic will be disappointed with the ending, which in today's movies (especially Hollywood films) are lacking in conclusions or resolutions.

Director/writer/co-star Yvan Attal is actually married to co-star Charlotte Gainsbourg, an effervescent and shimmering bilingual (French/English) beauty. And they both can act.

This is a comedy with a dark but non-violent edge. Gainsbourg plays "Charlotte," a star of both French and English films who graciously dispenses autographs left and right and during dinner at restaurants. Attal plays "Yvan," a doting but increasingly disturbed sportscaster who wears down dealing with his wife's intrusive fans and, more critically, his mounting fears that she is having it off with her aging but still presumably babe-magnet co-star in a London studio filming, "John" (Terence Stamp)

Yvan apparently is underutilized at work because he has the time to brood deeply and split to London whenever his antagonistic feelings of longing for and suspicion of his spouse surface (which they do increasingly).

Stamp gives a delightful portrayal of an old actor whose wife doesn't understand him but he's straddling the pursuit of Charlotte with the subtle reality that he's getting a bit old for that sort of thing. Stamp brings a bemused actor's attempts at dalliance to life.

There's an extraneous sub-plot in which Yvan's sister, seriously Jewish, belabors her non-Jewish husband to agree to be circumcised as they await the birth of their first child. This irrelevant and uninteresting side story at least stretches the film out to a barely respectable 93 minutes, justifying the $10 admission.

There are amusing scenes, the best being when Charlotte negotiates with her frenetic director for terms on which to appear naked in a scene. The resolution is both predictable and hilarious.

While few of us have mates or lovers who are in the public eye as Charlotte is, Yvan's increasing jealousy will strike a familiar chord with many viewers. In real life happy endings to episodes of mounting distrust, approaching paranoia, are few.

A good, enjoyable film. But now I'm wondering about the real life marriage of Yvan and Charlotte.

7/10.

This film had a real chance of success. The basic premise--How does a man feel when his wife is famous and he isn't?--holds lots of creative possibilities.

Unfortunately, these possibilities are never realized. We never understand why a famous actor would want this lout of a sportswriter as her husband. (Incidentally, he is the only sportswriter I know

who never appears to have a deadline.)

The movie is miscast. The wife, Charlotte Gainsbourg, is supposed to be drop-dead beautiful in the context of the film, and Ms. Gainsbourg is certainly attractive, but not at that level. Also, Terence Stamp, the third side of the triangle, is supposed to be miraculously attractive to young women, and I don't see that either. It is one thing to suspend disbelief, but another to throw disbelief out the window.

A subplot about the husband's sister, who is Jewish, and her pregnancy never works. In fact, as a physician, all I could do was cringe as the sister smoked throughout her pregnancy. I think that was supposed to be charming.

We get so few French movies in Upstate New York that I hate to criticize the ones we do get, but this movie is just not worth the price of admission, no matter how starved we are for French films.

"My Wife is an Actress" is all about a man who becomes jealous of his wife's handsome costar when she's required to do boudoir scenes. A so-so romantic comedy with precious little romance, this flick fails to focus on the central question which asks: How do you know if your wife is cheating de facto, in heart or mind, while she performs in bed with another man for the cameras? Instead, the film ruminates about the jealous husband and the tentative wife with occasional excursions into a whole side matter about circumcision which contributes nothing while managing to conjure up a few delightfully clever scenes. With good art, excellent camera work, and solid performances, this half English, half French flick makes for a nominal subtitled watch best saved for broadcast. (B-)