Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Emmanuel Mouret
Starring: Camélia Jordana, Niels Schneider, Émilie Dequenne, Vincent Macaigne, Jenna Thiam, Guillaume Gouix,
Julia Piaton
Has any country's cinema done so little to dispel national stereotypes
as that of France? The cliché of the French being unable to embrace
monogamy seems to fuel about a dozen new movies every year. With his
latest film, Love Affairs, writer/director Emmanuel Mouret seems to be aiming to
create an epic of infidelity, a sort of anti-Love Actually
in which every single character is having it away with someone else
behind their lover's back.
Mouret structures his film like a Matroska doll, each new protagonist
sharing a bond with those we've already met, while subsequently pulling
even more characters into the story. It begins with struggling writer
(what else?) Maxime (Niels Schneider) arriving at the scenic home
of his cousin Francois (Vincent Macaigne), who has been called
away on business for a few days, leaving Maxime in the company of his
pregnant girlfriend Daphne (Camélia Jordana).
Like the wraparound of an Amicus horror anthology, Maxime and Daphne
relate their mutual stories of romance and heartbreak, broadening the
film's scope to take in an expanding number of subplots in which men
can't keep it in their pants and women behave in the most neurotic of
fashion. Maxime tells of his affair with a married social climber,
Victoire (Julia Piaton), which leads him into the arms of her
sister, Sandra (Jenna Thiam), who is the lover of his best friend
Gaspard (Guillaume Gouix).
Daphne's backstory sees her falling for the older filmmaker whose
documentary she's editing, only for him to fall for her friend. While
heartbroken, Daphne begins sleeping with Francois, whose wife Louise (Émilie Dequenne) is simultaneously having an affair with another man herself. Oh, and
Gaspard begins seeing a friend of Francois' daughter behind Sandra's
back.
Are you keeping up at the back? I imagine Mouret's wall of post-it
notes must have resembled the office of an embattled detective trying to
pin down a serial killer, such are the various interconnected subplots
here. So reliant on spreading one issue, infidelity, across its entire
roster of characters, Love Affairs veers close to
resembling a parody of middlebrow French cinema, a feeling aided by the
clichéd selection of classical tunes on the soundtrack and its
characters' propensity for lazing around and thumbing through books
(like so many of these films, none of these people seem burdened by the
distractions of work).
What saves Love Affairs is the strength of its acting
ensemble. Along with established figures like Macaigne and Dequenne, the
movie gives a spotlight to relative newcomers Thiam and Jordana, both of
whom come off as instant stars. Thiam is hilarious as the sort of woman
who should have "trouble" tattooed on her forehead, while Jordana is an
adorable presence as Daphne, the closest the film offers to a relatably
down to earth character. The quality of acting across the board here
sucks you into Mouret's film, adding some much needed weight to a
relatively superficial drama. On reflection
Love Affairs may seem like a weightless piece of French
fluff, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't carried away in the moment by
the romantic trials and tribulations of its attractive ensemble.
