Cedric Klapisch's _Someone, Somewhere_ seems designed to milk the success of his _Back to Burgundy_. Francois Civil's tongue-tied awkwardness personified is resurrected as Parisian Remy. He has neither friends or family and work in a soulless product distribution center (like one of Amazon's). Literally across an empty shaft from him (in a architectural horror show of a building reminiscent of _Candyman_) is Melanie (Ana Giradot, also featured in _Burgundy_). She is marginally more functional, is a biochemical researcher, but suffers from extreme low self-esteem. Her father abandoned her and boyfriend jilted her. You might argue she is a depressive waiting for the next car-wreck to justify her existence. (I was one, once.)
Their lives intersect often -- on the overpass to the Stalingrad Metro Station, in the funky grocery store in "Little Turkey" (the 10th Arrondissement), ultimately in the dance class -- but never quite connect till near the end, shades of _Three Colors: Red_. The setting isn't picturesque as Geneva, but the benign sense of community reminds me of the ethnic enclave in _Queen of Montreuil_. The supporting actors are uniformly colorful and fascinating: Simon Abkarian as the gregarious grocery store owner, Eye Haidara as Remy's would-be flirty girlfriend (I was rooting for them to be together), Rebecca Marder as Melanie's sister, Francois Berleand and Camille Cottin as Remy's and Melanie's respective therapists. (Cottin must have been born full and entire as a mature beauty age 35, and has stayed that way since.) And Civil, reprising his hilarious shy shtick, is endlessly watchable.
The problem is Giradot, once again sporting her woe-is-me, navel-gazing persona. Her Melanie claims she visits cancer-ridden kids in the hospital every morning, and that gives her the motivation for her research (despite complaining she can't get out of bed). I wish Kapisch has shown that scene, because I have a hard time visualizing it. When Haidara and Marder appear (and they have few scenes), their vivaciousness immediately makes you wonder about the casting.
In the end the two therapists cure them of their guilt and lack of self-love. Remy reveals a traumatic childhood memory which seems a bit tacked on. Klapisch is nothing if not attuned to the mindset of today's youths; the plot points about trauma and mental health would resonate strongly with his target audience, although old people like me might think of pandering. What _Someone, Somewhere_ truly lacks is the great insight, great rupture of his previous film _Back to Burgundy_: the singularity that is Maria Valverde, regal, assured, commanding, providing a contrast and pointing a way forward for his other inarticulate and aimless youths. Inevitably, _Someone, Somewhere_ comes off as a step backward.
Their lives intersect often -- on the overpass to the Stalingrad Metro Station, in the funky grocery store in "Little Turkey" (the 10th Arrondissement), ultimately in the dance class -- but never quite connect till near the end, shades of _Three Colors: Red_. The setting isn't picturesque as Geneva, but the benign sense of community reminds me of the ethnic enclave in _Queen of Montreuil_. The supporting actors are uniformly colorful and fascinating: Simon Abkarian as the gregarious grocery store owner, Eye Haidara as Remy's would-be flirty girlfriend (I was rooting for them to be together), Rebecca Marder as Melanie's sister, Francois Berleand and Camille Cottin as Remy's and Melanie's respective therapists. (Cottin must have been born full and entire as a mature beauty age 35, and has stayed that way since.) And Civil, reprising his hilarious shy shtick, is endlessly watchable.
The problem is Giradot, once again sporting her woe-is-me, navel-gazing persona. Her Melanie claims she visits cancer-ridden kids in the hospital every morning, and that gives her the motivation for her research (despite complaining she can't get out of bed). I wish Kapisch has shown that scene, because I have a hard time visualizing it. When Haidara and Marder appear (and they have few scenes), their vivaciousness immediately makes you wonder about the casting.
In the end the two therapists cure them of their guilt and lack of self-love. Remy reveals a traumatic childhood memory which seems a bit tacked on. Klapisch is nothing if not attuned to the mindset of today's youths; the plot points about trauma and mental health would resonate strongly with his target audience, although old people like me might think of pandering. What _Someone, Somewhere_ truly lacks is the great insight, great rupture of his previous film _Back to Burgundy_: the singularity that is Maria Valverde, regal, assured, commanding, providing a contrast and pointing a way forward for his other inarticulate and aimless youths. Inevitably, _Someone, Somewhere_ comes off as a step backward.