Lyon Lies Bleeding: Mouret Explores L’amour Fou (Encore)
Even for those unfamiliar with the filmography of Emmanuel Mouret, his latest film, Three Friends will unequivocally seem ‘tres francais,’ which bears the curse of familiarity and the blessing of credibility as regards complicated romantic entanglements. Co-written by Carmen Leroi (in her first screenwriting credit), it’s a story of three women in modern day Lyon who all seem to be a bit unlucky in love, their understanding of it both paralleling and intersecting one another. The narrative thrust is right up Mouret’s alley, covering similar territory quite recently with offerings such as 2020’s Love Affair(s) (read review) and 2022’s Diary of a Fleeting Affair, where marriages end up being situations requiring an escape either sought after or accidentally transpiring. Embracing a matter-of-fact approach which offers amusing and sometimes poignant insight into various rationalizations for relationships, his latest leans into the sometimes incestuous romantic entanglements experienced within close friend groups. While it could have easily veered into screwball comedy territory, Mouret concocts an enjoyable trio of women each with their own specific hangups.
The quiet sorrows usually characterizing the heroines of Woody Allen’s earlier relationship comic dramas bear a kinship with Three Friends, particularly titles like Hannah and Her Sisters (1986) or the more agonizing Husbands and Wives (1992), especially with India Hair’s soft spoken Joan, whose sweet sensitivity channels a pixie-cut Mia Farrow. Vincent Macaigne, who has become one of Mouret’s regular collaborators, plays Victor, a forlorn man who jumpstarts the narrative from beyond the grave, and we back up one year from the initial starting point, where we learn his wife Joan has fallen out of love with him. They’re both high school teachers, and they have a four year old daughter, which makes it impossible for her to leave him. Joan confides in best friend Alice (Camille Cottin), who also works at the same school. Alice advises Joan she shouldn’t leave just because she’s no longer in love, revealing she’s actually never been in love with her own husband, Eric (Gregoire Ludig). The times Alice felt love before her marriage she felt it was overwhelming and catastrophic – it’s better to settle for something comfortable. Plus, Eric is still head-over-heels for Alice. Or so she thinks.
Enter their third friend, Rebecca (Sara Forestier), a single woman who is an ex-teacher looking for a new job. Currently she works as a tour guide at a museum, where the three meet up to chat since Rebecca has been unavailable because she’s seeing a married man. Said man ends up being Eric, and he has plans to leave Alice. The night before that’s supposed to happen, Joan, who has been sleeping on the couch for three months, tells Vincent she wants to leave, which sees him fleeing to a bar and then dying in a car accident. This causes a slight spasm amongst her friend group. Alice, who has had a mysterious dream about a handsome man giving her a phone number (which she has written down), decides life is short and strikes up a long-distance flirtation with a man who ends up being a famed artist (Eric Caravaca). Rebecca and Eric find themselves in a conundrum. When Alice confides in Rebecca of her new affair, it seems a guilt-free path is cleared for them to be together…but Eric becomes jealous of his wife Alice.
Meanwhile, Victor’s replacement at work, single father Thomas (Damien Bonnard), takes a liking to Joan. Their daughters grow close, and he attempts to romance her, though she claims to be emotionally available. However, Joan takes a liking to Thomas’ friend, the first man who seems to solve her romantic ennui.
The revolving door of connections within this small friend group tends to reflect a microcosmic universal behavior of desiring someone who is unavailable. And if they become available, the reality of ‘love’ seems to dissipate. While all of this plays out as expected, there are some profound moments which transpire, mostly courtesy of India Hair, particularly in a touching moment where she speaks with the ghost of her dead husband. While it seems a simplistic undertaking, it’s difficult to realistically conjure the wellspring of emotion accompanying budding romance, but Hair does so with aplomb, and these moments feel more akin to Mia Hansen-Love than Woody Allen. Camille Cottin is on hand as a catalyzing character in the mix, providing Sara Forestier with interesting opportunities as a woman who realizes she must do the right thing by her friend. Where this narrative tends to falter is insisting on giving Rebecca a happy ending during the final act, which ties too neat of a bow on the rather chaotic interchanges with a friend group where the only thing constant would seemingly be change.
Reviewed on August 30th at the 2024 Venice Film Festival (81st edition) – In Competition section. 118 Mins.
★★★/☆☆☆☆☆
