... or Every Home Should Have One, with apologies to John Steinbeck whose short story had nothing whatsoever to do with the autobiography of Herve Bazin which is the basis for this fine film. Catherine Frot is cast against type as the mother from hell and at times, especially when shot in extreme close up she actually contrives to LOOK like a snake. If, as I did, you see Frot in Les Soeurs Fachees, within twenty four hours you can't help marveling at her range but more of that when I get to The Angry Sisters. In his formative years Bazin lived with his grandmother because his parents were in Indo China and the film kicks off as the grandmother does and the parents return to France to take care of their two sons. Frot's complete lack of maternal instinct has to be seen to be believed as do her Draconian measures - no heat in the boy's bedroom in winter is only the beginning. It's tempting and easy to think that Frot based her characterization on Margaret Thatcher, there is the same coldness, the same aloof autocracy and it was Thatcher, of course, in her role as Minister for Education who famously discontinued the free school milk that children had enjoyed for years, earning her the well-deserved sobriquet Thatcher The Milk Snatcher. Jacques Villeret, also cast against type offers sterling support as the milquetoast husband but it is young Jules Sitruk, so good in Monsieur Batignole, who weighs in with a wonderfully assured performance as the rebellious son. It's difficult to find fault with anything from the acting to the attention to detail in the period setting. One to see again.
Review of Viper in the Fist
