France. Meh.
I do not know what this movie is for. Really attractive people in a beautiful place with what I think is an incoherent story that takes the audience no place. The audience seemed to love it because, I guess, it is very Francais. To me its even more of a carbon copy of every other French film ever made.

I think this is a good place for me to expound on the general uselessness and specific evils of movie reviews. Lots of people loved the movie I just slammed. Why would you pay any attention at all to whether I liked it? No good reason. I know nothing about what anyone but me likes. Screw what I think! Also screw what Anthony Lane of David Denby or any other reviewer thinks. And most of all, screw Pauline Kael in her grave. Wake her up and let her die again, says I. A review rarely enhances ones appreciation of a movie one has yet to see. They mainly spoil movies, either by giving the viewer this extra 30 pounds of baggage to carry into the film or by dissuading the person from attending in the first place. I actually love reading Denby and Lane, they are very gifted writers. But my rule is that I only read beyond the first paragraph if I have seen the movie or have decided not to see the movie. Most of my best movie experiences has been watching films about which I knew nothing going in.

So this begs the question (as that phrase is used these days) why I am writing all these blurbs. First, because this time of year everyone I know asks me about the movies I’ve seen and I can never think of anything to say. Lets face it, when you are attending 3 or 4 movies a day, its hard to even remember what you have seen. No one I do not know is likely to read this blog, and to know me is to know that I am a blowhard. Cheap copout, I know. Mostly I write this stuff because I think a lot of the movies that can only be seen at festivals are Important and should be widely seen, and if I can influence a few of my friends to go, I have done good.