Je n’ai rien oublié (2011) - film review

For many years, Conrad Lang has been living off the wealthy Senn family, first through his childhood friendship with Thomas and then as caretaker of their holiday home in Biarritz.  It is an arrangement that suits both Conrand and his rich benefactors.  But when his health starts to deteriorate, Conrad begins to relate his childhood memories to Simone, the young wife of the heir to the Senn estate.  Conrad’s recollections differ markedly from the family’s official history and Elvira, the family matriarch, appears inexplicably threatened.  It is as if Conrad, a harmless old buffoon, has the means to destroy her.  As Conrad and Simone develop a close friendship, Elvira shows that she is far more dangerous than she appears...

For a film that is chock-filled with clichés and looks like a poor man’s attempt to emulate a Claude Chabrol thriller, Je n’ai rien oublié is, if nothing else, appropriately titled.  Director Bruno Chiche’s third film is something of a let down after his previous comedy Barnie et ses petites contrariétés (2001) and drama Hell (2006), hampered by serious shortcomings on both the writing and directing front.  The film is however just about redeemed by a remarkable triumvirate of acting talent - Alexandra Maria Lara, Françoise Fabian and Nathalie Baye - who provide a welcome distraction from Chiche’s stultifying direction and Gérard Depardieu’s unbearably phoney portrayal of an Alzheimer’s sufferer. 

Based on Martin Suter’s novel Small World, Je n’ai rien oublié ventures into some intriguing territory (the inability for someone afflicted with memory loss to separate his present and past recollections from his wild imaginings) but Cliché’s unwillingness to take too many risks prevents him from doing much more than timidly rake over the surface.  Some parts of the film are truly cringeworthy (Depardieu looks suspiciously as if he was doing this for a lark) and you’ll have some difficulty believing that the dialogue was not concocted by a machine (one with the processing power of a Sinclair ZX81).  Mercifully, the three leading actresses, and a suitably sinister Niels Arestrup, manage to inject a few shots of genuine human emotion and menace into the proceedings, although this barely manages to prevent the lumbering beast of a film from collapsing under the weight of the clichés it carries on its back.  Je n’ai rien oublié looks as if it was made for television and that is doubtless where it will end up, providing blessed relief for insomniacs.

© James Travers 2011

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