Je rentre à la maison
This is a relatively
brief film whose conclusion arrives, like that of a literary short story,
unexpectedly. The mood is understated, and there are many single-camera scenes
set in public environments around
One
repeatedly-used location is the local café where it is the routine of the main
character, a recently-bereaved stage actor, in the prime of a long and
successful career, to sit at a particular window-seat reading the paper and
drinking an espresso. In one such scene the actor has a meeting with his agent.
The meeting is filmed from within the café and
throughout the scene’s duration, as we listen to the two men discussing
matters, we are also aware, through the window behind them, of Parisian life passing
by in the form of road traffic and pedestrians. Although the inclusion of peripheral,
but unignorable, “life” in this manner is
distracting at first, the naturalist perspective is enjoyable and
informative, reminding us of the fact that city life bustles around us, and we participate
as well, all the time.
This idea that
the director is reminding us of our environment is also carried through in the
perspective from which he films a fairground big wheel in
The character
of the old actor is sympathetic, despite the fact that he is occasionally
irascible when discussing jobs with his agent. He is to all intents and
purposes a highly talented stage actor, and we witness his talents when we see
him playing Prospero in the Tempest. He is also presented as a warm and loving
grandparent. However, he endures a great loss and, by end of the film, the
audience is left wondering if he will have the resources to overcome this or
whether, as is occasionally suggested, he will withdraw from the world.
.