Uma Questão de Gosto

Bernard Rapp's first work is not that much original:a strong Chabrol influence can be felt here there and everywhere.Two movie comes to mind "les biches" (1967) and "Betty" in the nineties.Both stories concern women,but it does not make a big difference.There's also "une étrange affaire" (1981) a Pierre Granier-Deferre effort,in which Michel Piccoli and Gérard Lanvin had a relationship close to that of Rapp's heroes.And let's not forget the classic Losey's "the servant" (1963)

That said,it's a watchable movie though,thanks to Bernard Giraudeau's sensational portrayal;if an actor can redeem a somewhat hackneyed script,this must be Giraudeau:smooth but threatening,affable bon vivant but subtile tyrant,he completely mesmerizes not only his young taster but also the whole audience.He's so powerful that the other actors (including an aging Jean-Pierre Léaud) stay on the bench.I wish he could find a director worth of his exceptional gifts.

The movie uses flashbacks and its construction recalls "les aveux de l'innocent" (1996) ,another offbeat story.The ending is rather unlikely and disappoints a lot.The female part is a cardboard character,and the actress is unable to act as a counterbalance;in "une étrange affaire" ,Nathalie Baye made all her scenes count.

See it anyway!every time Giraudeau is on the screen will make all worthwhile.And try ,if "une affaire de goût" is for you an acquired taste,to see the other movies I mention.

The meaning of "taste" is in question throughout. Previous comments center only on psychopathology or cinematography, with little mention of language. I think the variable meanings of words, whether the French dialogue or the English subtitles, is the key to understanding this rather transparent but mildly engaging film.

The most obvious example has to do with the title, of course. When "taste" of any sort runs headlong into a wall of insensate and objective laws or rules of behavior, it is reduced to meaningless metaphor. Individuality is thus ultimately rendered a nullity. That is the central meaning of the film.

Self-destruction brought about by some sense of one's inability to achieve a perfect harmony with another's unique personality has therefore nothing and yet everything to do with "taste." It is as well the essence of narcissism.

This film could have been conceived and produced only in France.

Bernard Rapp's previous feature Tiré à part (Limited Edition) had prepared me for this stimulating exercise in domination by mind games. It is very impressive, the way Rapp lays out the slow decline of Nicolas Rivière through luxury, laziness and the unwillingness to look squarely at the danger he's in. His job description is taster, but really he is living a surrogate life for his boss Delamont (for the latter, think Howard Hughes). The older man wants to watch the younger go parachuting, skiing, take a trip into the desert to sharpen his senses,even make love to a blonde at a party. For those who are looking for a homosexual basis for the relationship between these two men, the scene with Nicolas starting to warm up the blonde in bed, only to be dismissed by Delamont who wants to claim his prize will provide more than enough ammunition.

Bernard Giraudeau is splendid as Delamont; he understands how to make a young man feel favored then inadequate through a minimum of words. He used that purring voice and sly grin before, in Drops of Water on Burning Rocks (Ozon), where he made life hell for his teenage lover. Jean-Pierre Lorit is adequate, but no more, as Nicolas. Florence Thomassin reminds me of a fashion model who has strayed into acting; her height and good bones don't make me forget how stiff she is.

This is a story of a beautiful innocent young man destroyed by a rich old geezer. What exactly leads to our little pal's doom? Maybe he's destroyed by his Dorian-Grayish self? I don't know, and I doubt anyone would sympathize with the characters and learn a lesson or two. This movie is too weak to be a thought-provoking fable. It's not even intense enough to pass as a second-rate crime thriller.

What distinguishes it from a Hollywood psycho flick is the French gourmandism. The food here could have been effectively symbolic. Unfortunately, the camera does not linger long enough to let it speak for itself.

It's not that the director favors his actors. Giraudeau has one facial expression throughout, and Lorit two---happy and unhappy. What a waste of such a fine actor, who has done much better in Kieslowski's Red? The rest of the characters function no more than a walking tree in your high school musical.

I adore French films, but this one is a downer. If you want to see a film about unspoken homosexual relationship, there's "Beau Travail." If you want to see a film about a lonely human being who does not get sexual fulfillment, there's Catherine Breillat's "Romance." If you want to see a film in which the main character's inner self comes alive on screen, there's Philippe Harel's "Whatever.' If you just want to get a kick out of knowing who kills the ol' villain, any Hollywood thriller will do. Do not waste your time on "Une affaire de gout."

I actually enjoyed this smooth and somehow predictible thriller from former TV-show host bernard Rapp (ok, he is a film maker now, this movie prooves that). It reminded me that you eat very well in the good old city of Lyon. What else can I say ? A little Chabrol (Claude)-style maybe. The acting is okay, I specialy enjoyed Bernard Giraudeau. It was a pleasure to see again Jean-Pierre Leaud (the "antoine Doisnel" of François Truffaut's 400 blows).