Marriage fragments Justine, 35, and Richard, 55, decide to separate after seventeen years of marriage. After all, life together becomes intolerable for both: any comment, any reproach is enough for a scandal, which always ends in hysteria and ridiculous accusations. Even three young sons are unable to strengthen their disintegrating union. What caused such a painful breakup: an age difference, a monotonous existence, or perhaps a disappointment in each other? . .
Few expected that the debut of successful French actress Sophie Marceau “Tell Me About Love” will receive the prize for directing at the prestigious international film festival in Montreal. The chairman of the jury, Iranian director Majid Majidi, took a certain risk, noting the work of Marceau: after all, the competition program of that year featured paintings by world-screen masters Raul Ruiz and Carlos Saura, who could well get this award, as a sign of respect for their creative merits. But it seems that Majid Majidi encouraged the confident debut of Sophie Marceau precisely because the enduring family values that she preaches from the screen are the leitmotif of his own work, and the very manner of narration is somehow consonant with the ribbons of the Iranian: it sets up a positively empathetic manner, without any cinematic delights and tricks.
The story told in Tell Me About Love is largely autobiographical for Sophie Marceau. In the images of the main characters - Justin and Richard - easily guess Marceau herself and the Polish director Andrzej Zulawski, who for seventeen years connected not only creative, but also marital relations, despite the 26-year age difference. And there is nothing surprising in the fact that the performers of the main roles - Judith Godresh and Niels Arestrup - not only superficially resemble the prototypes of history, but also have similar characters and even a creative role: for example, Godresh, like Marceau, became famous for the roles of young people, overwhelmed by the first hearty passions, and Arestrup has a reputation as a difficult artist who plays characters contradictory and dual in the cinema. In addition, both Godresh and Arestrup, a few years after shooting with Sophie Marceau, also tried themselves in directing, but, however, unsuccessfully.
Marceau herself, shooting her first full-length film, if she was inspired by the legacy of her unbridled, often shocking spouse, then clearly followed the “method of the opposite”. Zhulavsky interprets Love as an extreme degree of obsession, fever, demonic disease, which will certainly lead to a fatal outcome. This, by the way, is evidenced by the name of one of his paintings “L’amour braque”, which can be translated as “failed love”, “love with a flaw”, and at the same time be considered key to understanding his extremely uneven and nervous creativity.
For Sophie Marceau, Love is, first of all, mutual understanding, respect, forgiveness, it is a creative force, without it human happiness is unthinkable. It is not for nothing that the title of the tape contains words from the song by Jean Lenoir “Parlez-moi d’amour”, written by him after a conflict with his then girlfriend (it is interesting that the song, which received worldwide fame thanks to the soulful performance of Lucienne Boillier in 1930, was subsequently translated into 37 languages, became a real symbol of retro, and is now readily used in films telling about that era: “Violetta Nozier”, “Modernists”, “Henry and Jun”, “Poolova in Paris”). And it is no coincidence that "Parlez-moi d'amour" sounds at the time of the breakup of the main characters. After all, the words of love are eager to hear not only the singer and director of the picture, the words of love are necessary for both the 35-year-old Justine and the 55-year-old Richard, albeit tortured, spoken in a low voice and not even completely sincere, but without offense, reproaches and hidden malice - because they are pronounced so rarely. However, the couple are depressedly silent, and the begging “Parlez-moi d’amour”, sounding behind the scenes, turn into a sad requiem for the healing power of love, in which both have not believed for a long time.
Unfortunately, the second half of the picture is somewhat drawn out and even far-fetched, like Marceau, having said all the sore things, either did not know how to complete his film or in time caught up and hastily “growing” the plot design to the standard one and a half hours of screen time. But succumbing to the charm of this, in general, unassuming, not designed for festival laurels and cult worship, I want to treat these shortcomings condescendingly and with a good smile. After all, this in the good sense of the word melodramatic cinema every year becomes less and less.
6.5 out of 10