Faut que ça danse! (2007) - film review

When busy 30-something Sarah discovers she is pregnant, she soon realises that she has more than she can cope with.  She already has enough on her plate, with the demands of her partner François, her over-active father Salomon and her withdrawn mother Geneviève.  Despite being 80, Salomon is bursting with life, and divides his time between his tap dancing classes and chasing pretty women.  Meanwhile, Geneviève is depressed and dreams only of living with her kind-hearted carer Mr Mootoosamy, who may or may not be a golddigger...

In her fourth and most inspired film to date director Noémie Lvovsky proves that it is possible to deliver a life-affirming comedy-drama about the traumas of growing old and pregnancy without recourse to tired cliché or egregious sentiment-milking.  With its surreal flourishes (which include an animated sequence in which a laughing Hitler is repeatedly sliced in two by the heroine) and respectful homage to Fred Astaire, Faut que ça danse! is as wildly unpredictable as it is entertaining.  And, thanks to its high calibre cast and an intelligently crafted screenplay, there are also more than a few moments of poignant reflection on the cruel injustices of old age – the loss of one’s faculties, societal prejudices and the difficulty of starting new relationships - without ever labouring the point.  The film is light-hearted, frothy and ever so slightly mad, but it is also remarkably true to life.

The film benefits from a particularly strong ensemble of acting talent. Who better than the seemingly indefatigable Jean-Pierre Marielle to play the octogenarian Don Juan who, when he is not tapping his toes in time with Astaire and reprimanding life insurance executives for cancelling his policy, leads a full and active life chasing skirts and getting himself locked up in war museums.  Marielle doesn’t only deliver another stunning character performance, one that is as funny as it is touching, he also invigorates the film and gives it the energy it needs to carry it through its less successful moments.  His pairing with Sabine Azéma, who is every bit the mad fizzy-haired 50-something, and gloriously so, is simply inspired. Bulle Ogier’s scenes with Bakary Sangaré provide a more sombre counterpoint, memorable for their understated poignancy, a gently melancholic but by no means maudlin allusion to the tragedy of gradual memory loss.   

The one strand of the narrative that doesn’t quite gel is that involving Marielle’s daughter, played (with considerable charm) by Valeria Bruni Tedeschi.  Whilst this offers some amusing digressions (such as the suggestion of an Oedipal relationship between father and daughter and a spectacularly gory assassination of a certain Fascist dictator which clearly owes something to Wes Craven), it just seems to belong to another film and sits uncomfortably alongside the genteel geriatric adventures of Marielle and Ogier.  In spite of this, Faut que ça danse! still manages to hold together remarkably well and fills out its 100 minutes without a single dull moment.  Admittedly, some of the humour is in slightly dubious taste (expectant mothers are advised to skip past the scenes in which the heroine goes into labour), but despite one or two such slips from decency this still remains a highly enjoyable piece, and one that does a mighty fine job of confounding all those irksome stereotypes about old age.  Life is for living, whatever your age, so get on those dancing shoes and follow Fred’s example.  Faut que ça danse!

© James Travers 2011

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