Movie Review: French Exit is a quirky, controlled chaos primarily designed as a showcase for the glorious Michelle Pfeiffer

Towards the beginning of French release, Azazel Jacobsis a comedy that is both tragic and surreal, Michelle pfeifferFrances Price, the initially frigid New York socialite, apparently pokes fun at the romantic uncertainty of her adult son, Malcolm (Lucas Hurdles). “Menstruation? », She asks while he refuses to divulge any type of answer to his sullen, confirming the screenwriter Patrick dewittThe penchant for almost pejorative leaning comedy which turns out to be much more sincere than it presents.

To present oneself as one thing, to ultimately reveal oneself as another is very French releasethe Jacobs mentality, with Jacobs’ dark comedic tone – almost stealthy in its biting approach – underlying a truly bizarre, almost ridiculous film that has the audacity to skewer a supernatural element halfway through the proceedings, and this in an organic approach, no less.

At the start, a kind of duo between Frances and Malcolm, French release sets up his eventual titular escape as Frances’ dwindling financial situation becomes a grim reality; “My plan was to die before the money ran out, but I kept going and I don’t keep dying, so here I am” is his pragmatic response to his worried accountant when asked what exactly his plan was. monetary.

Living a widow’s social life has clearly caught up with her – we learn that by discovering the dead body of her husband (Tracy Letts) she was slow to contact the authorities and took a brief vacation instead – and instead of doing the responsible thing by forgoing such extravagances and looking for a job (which seems like a first for our France), she sells his remaining assets and flies off en route to Paris, dragging Malcolm on an indefinite break; his own relationship issues with his exhausted fiancee Susan (Imogen Poots) clearly not disturbing enough to keep him from going crazy.

Once the two arrive in Paris – by boat, which in itself shows the carefree nature of Frances towards this third act of her life – it becomes increasingly clear that Frances harbors some kind of death wish, and although the parisian setting brings a lot of deWitt’s quick wit, it is constantly mixed with a sadness linked to Frances own personal struggles.

While waiting for the film to adopt its ensemble comedy mindset, much of French release (if not everything, really) is intended primarily as a showcase for the wonder that is Pfeiffer, the actress doing so much with the simplest of words, those pursed lips and a steely gaze; all three work in unison at a better time than when Frances, confused as to why she and Malcom are the only guests at a so-called New Years party, calmly but sternly asks “What- what is going on here? ? “.

While the film revel in all of Pfeiffer’s nuances, her decision to gradually become something of a collaborative effort builds her strength as a showcase for the actress. and a situational film, which embraces its absurdities and treats them as rather customary.

The Parisian apartment that was to serve as a home for Frances, who was gradually disconnecting, and Malcom, with a cautious goal, soon became the playground for a crowd of quirky characters, who all chew on deWitt’s dialogue and spit it out with aplomb.

In addition to concerned Susan and her new beau (Daniel di Tomasso), there is Jeanne (Susan coyne), the apartment owner and Frances’ closest friend, who rushes to his side after receiving an apparent suicidal postcard that Frances was not even aware of had been sent; Madeleine the Medium (Danielle Macdonald), a true psychic who enjoyed a night of drunken debauchery with Malcolm aboard the ship (“the fucked up witch”, Frances calls her so graciously); a caring private investigator (Isaach De Bankole), hired by Frances to track down Madeleine in Paris due to her potential knowledge of the search for Frances’ missing cat, Small Frank (the feline earning its own bizarre storyline which, again, manages to come across as an alarming acceptance) ; and, perhaps most memorable, Madame Reynard (Valerie Mahaffey, a contestant for Best Supporting Actress, if any), a self-proclaimed Frances fan-girl who essentially refers to herself as Frances ‘best friend after the aforementioned New Years’ party.

Controlled chaos would be the best way to describe what Jacobs achieves, and not just when all of these characters come into play. An original blend of naturalism and surrealism is ultimately what French release takes a look at the type of movie that Wes Anderson, Noah Baumbach, and Woody Allen would have adapted, with deWitt’s deliberate writing creating a type of pragmatism around the highest comedy that, while still hilarious, never plays so ironically as you would expect; Malcolm so delicately asking Frances to ‘look in the freezer’ after finding an icy penis-shaped dildo in Madame Reynard’s fridge looks like a build-up of a comedic backdrop (and, in a lesser movie, it would have been. ), while we instead get a simple and rather dark conversation about the phallic-shaped device and what it is particularly used for; “Why would you want it to be cold?” is Frances’ burning question.

As unique as it is, French releaseThe comedic constitution of ‘s ultimately won’t resonate with everyone. As distant as the narrative and characters are, the underlying heartache and the film’s depiction of a longing for human connection give it a universal appeal that deserves to be embraced with enthusiasm. Of course, at the very least, the film should be enough of an excuse to want to spend 110 minutes with the glorious Pfeiffer, the Oscar-deserved performer graciously but incongruously devouring the surroundings with unashamed glee that so few of her peers. have the nuance to be executed with subtlety.

FIVE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)

French release is screened in Australian cinemas from March 18, 2021


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