Film Review
As its title suggests (at least for the classically minded), Emmanuel
Mouret's latest humorous study on the vagaries of the human heart takes
its cue from Ovid's
Ars amatoria
(
The Art of Love), a first
century handbook on how to snare your ideal partner and stop others from
filching her. Mouret sticks to his tried and tested formula,
combining a Rohmeresque acuity for romantic entanglement with a
penchant for farce that lies somewhere between Marivaux and Woody
Allen, but on this occasion he departs from the complex extended
narrative of his previous films and opts instead for the skittish
lightness of the anthology film. Backed to the hilt by an
all-star cast of jaw-dropping proportions, the director explores the
many facets of desire and seduction through a series of amusing
vignettes, in what is very nearly an updated version of the
classic French film
La Ronde (1950), only much,
much funnier.
By its very nature,
L'Art d'aimer
doesn't have quite the gravitas of Mouret's previous films. No
sooner have we settled down to enjoy one promising flight of fancy, we are whisked away
to the next, and so attempts to expand on more complex themes are
brutally curtailed or left dangling in midair. This is more the
fault of the anthology format than of the film itself, which could
explain why this kind of film has gone out of fashion - these days,
cinema audiences expect something far more substantial than a mere
collation of tasty titbits. An accomplished screenwriter as well
as a fine film director, Mouret manages to get round the limitations of
the format by ensuring that the separate stories do
interlock together well and ultimately succeed in forming a coherent
and satisfying whole, whilst having sufficient diversity to prevent the
audience from losing interest.
Like Woody Allen (a director he greatly admires and is clearly most
influenced by) Mouret has a particular talent for finding absurdity in
everyday situations and developing these into irresistibly funny
routines without losing sight of the underlying reality. No
matter how utterly absurd and contrived the situations become in
Mouret's films, they all retain that essential ring of truth about
them, and so whilst it is easy to laugh at his protagonists as they
become hopelessly tangled up in Cupid's machinations, we cannot but
reflect on the sad truths that underlie each of their
predicaments. Comedy and tragedy are, as we all know, two sides
of the same coin, if not the same side viewed from different angles.
Whilst all of the vignettes are well-scripted and superbly performed,
the one that stands out is that which features François Cluzet
and Frédérique Bel, an improbable pairing that works so
well you can't help wishing the duo will headline Mouret's next
film. Ariane Ascaride, not particularly well-known as a comedy
performer, gives great entertainment value as a female Don Juan whose
amorous proclivities can be put down to a tragic inability to find her
ideal soul mate. Gaspard Ulliel and Elodie Navarre are equally
delightful as a young couple whose seemingly perfect romance is
threatened (as it always is) by an adulterous interlude. Other
stars include Julie Depardieu, Judith Godrèche and Louis-Do de
Lencquesaing, all surprisingly at home with Mouret's blend of
off-the-wall humour and Rohmeresque introspection.
For anyone who has yet to enter the wacky world of Emmanuel Mouret,
L'Art d'aimer is probably the best
introduction to his work, something to give you an appetite for his
previous, meatier offerings, such as
Changement d'adresse (2006) and
Un baiser s'il vous plaît
(2007). For those who have already succumbed to Mouret's unique
brand of flirtatious comedy, his latest galloping dose of sentimental
education will not disappoint, and will doubtless leave you hungry for
more.
© James Travers 2012
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