The various elements of writer-director-star Louis Garrel’s low-key comic crime caper don’t sound that original at first glance. The audience-friendly plot involves a troubled thirtysomething, Abel (Garrel), lured by family connections into assisting with a heist in order to protect those he loves. In addition to this conscience-plagued hero, the cast of characters include Abel’s free-spirited mother (Anouk Grinberg), a reformed — or is he? — ex-con (Roschdy Zem), a manic-pixie dream girl-esque female lead (Noémie Merlant) and various shady underworld sorts mostly restricted to hiding in the shadows. But this film is a slightly slipperier customer than a topline summary would suggest, with tonal shifts that shouldn’t work, but somehow do. Fans of the likes of Maren Ade’s 2016 comedy-drama Toni Erdmann or Alex van Warmerdam’s 2013 psychological thriller Borgman may recognize a kindred sensibility.
Here is a film in which the sight of the serious but charming actor Zem sporting a bowtie that is simply too large is somehow a wonderful, enduring image. It’s only a bowtie, about twice as big as it ought to be, but the look of hope on his face that it might be perfect is impossible to resist. You’ll find yourself contemplating life’s big questions, such as: Who exactly gets to decide what the optimal size for a bowtie is, anyway? This is, above all, a film that makes you question the rules.
That interest in acting according to convention versus gut instinct is established early on, with a scene that is framed as if it is actually taking place IRL, but turns out to be part of an acting lesson. To draw our attention to the idea of acting can be a risky move for filmmakers: It all but ensures that everybody watching (and not just film critics) starts paying a bit more attention than they normally might to the idea of performance. You had really better engage a strong cast if you’re going to flex that particular muscle.
Luckily, Garrel has some aces up his sleeve. They include “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” discovery Merlant (recently seen in “Tár”), who adds layers of plausible, lived-in chemistry to the part of a bright-eyed, impulsive woman whose live-wire acting skills will be crucial in the narrative’s notional linch-pin (a plot to steal a fortune in high-end Iranian caviar that might as well be branded MacGuffin Caviar), and Grinberg, a veteran with over six decades of onscreen experience as Garrel’s on-screen mom.
In Zem, Garrel has smartly cast not only an actor but a celebrated director in his own right (Zem’s 2006 film “Omar Killed Me” was selected as Morocco’s entry for the Academy Awards), and you have to think that for a film that is really more about acting than is is really about whether this motley crew will pull off their heist, a performer with the experience of directing other actors would be a plus. Moreover, he delivers a neatly judged performance which is not about dazzling the audience with charisma, but instead is about showing how the character uses his charisma within the world of the film to charm and persuade other people.
The film’s varied and off-beat settings provide a playground for production design and lighting to have a bit of fun. A newly-opened flower shop adds a hint of “Marie Antoinette” (Sofia Coppola’s 2006 version) to a film that otherwise resists candy-colored fantasy, while scenes set in the aquarium where Garrel’s character gives educational talks are as beautifully lit as anything you’ll see in the cinema this year — full props to gaffer Julien Gallois.