A more direct translation of the French title is 'A World Without Pity', which at least describes something of writer director Eric Rochant's weakness for adolescent angst. The film is a transparent, third-person romantic daydream about a neo-bohemian Paris dropout pursuing a beautiful, intellectual bookworm, eventually winning her affection because (apparently) his conceited arrogance is meant to represent an almost an irresistible magnetic charm. What she sees in him is anyone's guess: it would be hard to imagine a more unlikable hero in a more illogical relationship, and character motivation is not one of Rochant's more pressing concerns. It's all very pretty to look at, but underneath all the glossy camouflage is just another empty urban romance, with no real story and, despite the title (either one) with a level of self-pity approaching self-abuse.
Review of Love Without Pity
