FILM & REVIEW Have become quite an admirer of the films of Mia Hansen-Love of late. Her films are beautify told tales of romance , relationships and the fact that life will always intrude to over complicate things. Seydoux plays Sandra a young widow bringing up her daughter and embarked on a passionate affair with an married acquaintance Clemont (Papoud). He can never bring himself to leave his wife and child and over time Sandra gets fed up being the mistress which applies pressure on them both. In the meantime she is dealing with her Father George (Gregory) a brilliant university professor now struck down with Altzimers who the family agree can no longer live independently and must be moved into hospital pending a nursing home. It’s heartbreaking seeing his huge library being broken up as he now longer understands any of them. Seydoux is just wonderful in the part - from being a strong Mum for her daughter to extreme vulnerability as the affair with Clemont takes its toll. Gregory brings a supurb quiet dignity as the Father who doesn’t even comprehend how much he has lost as even the identity of his daughter fades. I thought it was beautiful , moving and heartbreaking all at the same time and one of the finest films I have seen of late - 5/5
This one's a fairly predictable, bittersweet relationship drama - with perhaps a little too much 'soap opera' at times - but as with many facets of Mia Hansen-Løve's filmmaking, there’s an intelligence, a sadness, a more literary undertow to its seeming simplicity. “Un beau matin” in French, the title is lifted from a haunting poem by poetic realist Jacques Prévert, which describes the conflict of facing absence in your life, all while pretending there’s literally nothing there. At no cost to its calm, loping pace, the film is about many things at once: separate personal crises alternately surge and recede over the course of a year, given equal prominence in the script’s loose one-day-at-a-time structure. It’s a welcome change of pace for the ubiquitous Léa Seydoux, recently seen on screen as almost everything but an ordinary woman, and projecting here a warm sense of human wear and tear that we too rarely get to see from her. De-glammed inasmuch as it’s possible to deglam her — with minimal makeup, a short, practical hairdo and an oft-recycled wardrobe of slouchy floral dresses, she’s casually chic in the manner of someone you might plausibly know — Seydoux plays Sandra, a bright, independent, long-single mother with a freelance translating career that just about pays the rent of the teeny apartment she shares in Paris with her eight-year-old daughter Linn. We meet her en route to another cosy Parisian shoebox, this one belonging to her father Georg, a former philosophy professor who has almost totally lost his sight — one consequence of the neurodegenerative disorder Benson’s syndrome, which is gradually claiming his mind and memory too. No longer able to live independently, he and his family are thus thrust into the administrative nightmare of the national care home system, barely able to secure him a room of his own amid a logistical tangle of waiting lists and exorbitant fees. With Sandra stretched even thinner than usual, anxiously fretting over all aspects of her father’s situation, it’s an awkward time for a complicated new relationship to present itself, but life being what it is, that’s exactly what happens. Enter charming 'cosmo-chemist' Clement, and thus to Sandra's reawakened need for intimacy. In dramatising these two chaotic factors in Sandra’s life, Hansen-Løve is at pains to avoid tidy, swelling arcs and grand narrative collisions. Instead, the film accrues subtle power through repetition, as characters put themselves through the same banal ordeals again and again hoping for different outcomes: as the increasingly disoriented Georg is shuffled from one unsuitable facility to another, losing his bearings a little more each time, Sandra and Clement repeatedly attempt to forge new romance without disrupting the status quo. In both cases, the concept of home — not just a place to live, but the companions and care that anchor life itself — is held as precious and elusive. The director hardly stretches herself here, but enjoyable viewing nevertheless.
The excellence of this film starts with the writing which shows the messiness of real life particularly when trying to do the right thing comes into conflict with what you long for. Add uniformly fine performances and unobtrusive direction and you're on to a winner. The film also shows that family is what you make of it, highly recommended.