A costume piece, high-gloss cinema de papa, with lots of pseudo-creative camera work trying to make us forget it. The potentially interesting story is told sentimentally and superficially, never probing the ultimate ironies (sexual, moral) of the relationship among the three principals. The secondary characters are mostly mean-spirited caricatures rather than real people--nor is our sympathy for the murderer (the only character with real substance) tempered by any for his victim. Lots of loud noise and sea shots straight out of an MGM pirate epic, but the obvious reference is the French 50s, with Darrieux and Philipe replaced by Binoche and Auteuil. An objectionable (and wholly unrealistic) feature is the insistent use of vulgarities, as though 19th century men--and even women!--spoke in polite society the way one might in a brothel. It's hard to believe a French director could get such a kick out of the word "merde."
Review of Widow of St. Pierre
