cestmoi

Ah, to have the wherewithal to fly your Lear to England to consult with Hockney and have a half hour viewing of the Queen's Vermeer. And the skill to turn a furniture leg on a lathe you modified without any training either in lathe modification or working wood as well as learning lense grinding, stained glass window making, and mixing paints in the Vermeerian manner, and on and on. Staggering, actually. Tim shows the comfort and confidence of the very rich but none of the noblesse oblige. Rare. The film nicely tells the story of the task fulfilled, details of which you know from the descriptions above as well as from the trailer. More on learning to actually mix and apply the paint, as well as the technical aspects involved in manufacturing the paints would gave made this a more valuable document. Still fun and full of charm.

Goodness knows anyone reading here knows the story, so I will not further burden anyone by regurgitating. The drabness of the nearby banlieu is well portrayed as is life lived over the store of an ordinary shop owner. Good if not inspired photography, good acting, if not a monotonal quality in that of the returning husband (my complaint about the role in Separation) with the kids being particularly convincing. But like some pops program classical music, too many false endings and prolongations. I named the film "arret" as these false third acts were interrupted again and again with stop or come back or I will go...but do not go. For the first time in a while I felt myself thinking, when will it end.

The lead is a distinctive actor with all the subtlety of the script in this role. The poor beleaguered son is so unsure of his place in the world that his masochism in remaining in his father's universe is barely believable...though his behavior begs for more beatings of a psychological kind. The loyal wife of the junior loves him for reasons unknown to the viewer; under the sheets, perhaps? The once (1960-70) disco scene is resurrected here to hardly any purpose. The manager of the vineyard, dying of cancer, gets the best draw of script which he fulfills with professionalism and dignity, and his practical and loyal wife plays her role beautifully. As to the prodigal would be son, an insensitive cad and gainer well played here. The logic of the script is minimal and the resolution more abrupt and fevered than what precedes it logically allows. Beautiful shots of the vineyard. All in all, this vintage is pas mal but no chapeau.