Dans Paris

After the turn-off of his previous Ma Mère and the gloomy intensity of previous films, Christophe Honoré has produced a fourth feature that's economical and entertaining, a remarkable balance of moods that (as before) studies parental and sibling relationships, this time with elegant dialogue and amusing contrasts of scenes and characters and an evocation of the French New Wave that gives two of France's best and hottest young male film actors a chance for virtuoso performances.

Dark and light come in the form of the two brothers these actors play. One, Paul (Romain Duris), has broken up with his girlfriend (Joana Preiss) and, depressed after a series of disastrous scenes which we observe early on in back-and-forth jump-cut sequences that are intentionally confused in chronology, goes back to live with his caring father.

Though Paul's younger brother Jonathan (Louis Garrel), who's never left the paternal nest, tells us speaking into the camera in an early shot (which establishes the light and detached side of the film), that he's the narrator but only a lesser character in the story, he emerges also as an essential foil to Paul because of his success with the ladies and his larky attitude. He's as frolicsome as his brother is worrisomely dark-spirited and hopeless.

When not reading La Repubblica and watching Italian TV, Papà Mirko (Guy Marchand) does domestic things like make chicken soup and drag home a big Christmas tree he decorates alone.

Jonathan makes it with three girls in one day while trying to lure Paul shopping for presents at Monoprix. Dad summons his estranged wife and the boy's mother (Marie-France Pisier, of Jacques Rivette's 1974 Céline and Julie Go Boating, which this film evokes) to cheer up Paul too. And she succeeds: Paul's depression isn't seen one-dimensionally. Dad is amusingly cuddly, while Garrel's high spirits constantly contrast with Duris' glumness and relative inertia. But that inertia also has its sudden interruptions: he goes out early in the morning and jumps into the Seine, then returns wet and surprised at what he's done -- and at still being alive. Jonathan/Garrel is also clearly the Jean-Pierre Léaud of our days, and a bedroom shot links him with Godard's Belmondo. (Garrel is well-suited as a reborn Sixties icon after starring in his father Philippe's great 2005 evocation of '68, Regular Lovers as well as the earlier Bertolucci '68 piece The Dreamers, and his looks match the dash of Belmondo with the polish of Léaud. Duris has already shown his mercurial potential in a string of romantic comedies and his starring role in Jacques Audiard's dark, brilliant 2005 crime/art film, The Beat My Heart Skipped.

There's a lot of formally written and frenetically spoken French dialogue; Garrel is a master of the pout, snicker, and slurred one-liner; Duris emerges as the actor with more depth, while Garrel shows a new light, comedic side we haven't seen much of before. Marchand is appealing, and the movie has energy. Inrockuptibles, the influential and hip French review, calls this "The best French film of the year." Dans Paris is an actors', writer's, editor's tour de force that creates its own unique tragi-comic mood.

After the ambitious and catastrophic "Ma Mère" -- which bowdlerized Georges Bataille and cheapened Isabelle Huppert's considerable talents -- director/writer Christophe Honoré tucks in his tail and tries to woo the audience with this moldy, silly, instantly forgettable feel-good Christmas movie (à la française, bien entendu) addressed to nostalgic "nouvelle vagueurs" and middle-aged couples (gay and straight).

Godard and especially Truffaut are major influences here, from the casting of Louis Garrel in a mix of the Belmondo/Brialy/Léaud inconsequential womanizers, to the presence of Truffaut habitués Guy Marchand (as the insufferable father) and Marie-France Pisier (as the phallic mother). It features a rip-off of, uh, homage to the jump into the Seine from "Jules et Jim"; a singularly unattractive exploration of wintry Paris (the film is called "Dans Paris", but the title should have been "Dans un Appartement Vachement Laid à Paris"); and the insertion of Godardian tricks (those neon signs and a "naturalistic" musical number over the telephone that will make you cringe with embarrassment for poor Romain Duris). Briefly, "Dans Paris" is an unexciting, visually mediocre cinephile's tribute to the French New Wave with nothing new, funny or witty to say: it's as stale as last week's ratatouille.

"Dans Paris" also advocates the arguable notion that depression can be cured by family love and chicken soup. The women in the film are either insensitive phallic bores (the Mother, Anna), dim-witted disposable sex toys (Jonathan's lovers) or dead (the sister). On the other hand, the men ooze warmth, sensitivity and emotion: they're so full of love and they show it so much and so often (the real love scenes are between the men here) that by the end you start wondering why families need women again, except for that nasty job of procreation.

The only reason to watch "Dans Paris" is that screen magnet Louis Garrel: with his silent movie star good looks (he's got Louise Brooks' eyes and eyebrows, his profile belongs to a vintage Art Déco poster) and uninhibited physicality (he's got no problem with parading naked, as we know by now), Garrel reunites Léaud's gauche charms, Belmondo's non-chalance and self-confidence, Brialy's ambiguous sexuality, and an emotional availability that renders him instantly likable in any part. A young star in the great tradition of the handsome, talented French "jeunes premiers", Garrel is definitely here to stay, and ready to create memorable characters like his François Dervieux in the magnificent "Les Amants Réguliers" -- all he needs is a decent role and a good director (none of which can be found here). Because of him, I'll give "Dans Paris" these 4 stars the film itself doesn't remotely deserve.

I liked the avant-garde touches such as the address-to-camera in the opening, the speeded-up lovers cavorting by the Seine and touches like Jon reading a copy of 'Franny et Zooey' (another story with a dead sister)or that he stops in front of two film posters in the street, neither of which I've seen but both of which I'm sure are relevant. The conversation Paul has with Jon's forlorn girl-friend about his theory of sadness is also very moving, as is Paul's reading of the children's storybook to his younger brother, if both are somewhat obscure.The father preparing dinner whilst his estranged wife outlines the difficulties of their previous relationship seems rooted in reality. Paul's self-destructive behaviour and the see-saw moods of his relationship are bizarre believable. The relationships are discussed in a way that is both reflective and expressive, such a change from the cutesy-clichés of American romances.

I liked Love Songs (Les Chansons d'amour); wasn't thrilled with My Mother (Ma mère); this film, also by writer/director Christophe Honoré, and based upon J. D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey fits in between the two.

Paul (Romain Duris) is a real jerk. This may be a typical French male, but I have no sympathy for him. His girlfriend Anna (Joana Preiss) breaks up with him, and he returns to Paris to live with his father (Guy Marchand) and brother (Louis Garrel). He is in a deep depression over the breakup and makes life miserable for everyone. Everyone except his younger brother, who seems to enjoy his life and loves.

While Paul sits home moping, Jonathan (Garrell) is heading to Bon Marche. It's a long journey as he has to stop frequently along the way to screws every woman (Héléna Noguerra, Judith El Zein, & Annabelle Hettmann) he meets. Along the journey, he keeps calling his brother to join him. No luck. he revels in his nasty mood.

Marchand, as the father turns in the best performance of the film.

I saw Dans Paris in Paris during October, where it is showing in a number of theaters. It is a thought provoking movie about the relationship between siblings and how it can shape their lives. Part comedy, part tragedy, and at time a mixture of both, it is worth seeing. The photography is beautiful and it has a lively sound track. Dans Paris makes me optimistic about French cinema which has been deteriorating into commercialism. i.e. movies that can easily be ripped off and remade in English. Granted, someone might try to take the plot line of Dans Paris and turn it into a vehicle for the Wilson Brothers. But before that happens, try to see this if it comes your way.