Russian Dolls (Les Poupées Russes) | Review

Follow-up affair, full of affairs.

There are some stories in film history that merit an extension, not necessarily a “part 2” or a sequel, but a look forward and backwards at characters that have remained close to both filmgoer’s and filmmaker’s hearts. Recently, Bergman’s Saraband was a welcomed blast from the past knock on the door, while the collaborative screenplay effort found in Before Sunset gave viewers one more reason to believe in the merits of silver screen reunions. Rather than develop an interesting character-study or a reason to revisit a handful of characters, Cédric Klapisch’s follow-up to L’Auberge Espagnole comes across as a vehicle more concerned by superficial pleasures rather than trying to recapture the selling point of the first film.

Set five years down the road, the adventures, or misadventures in what makes the heart beat louder and faster continues with Kelly Reilly’s Wendy and her past shoulder-length hair, Audrey Tautou’s Martine now a MILF, Cecile De France’s Isabelle still has short hair, the youngest member of the troupe is getting married with a Russian and the male protagonist is still a womanizer who doesn’t twice about the opportunity of a potential one night stand. With no bling, no charm and ordinary looks to show for, Romain Duris’ Xavier is a writer dabbling in Harlequin territory in his professional life with televisions scripts and in his personal life where he manages to sleep with a handful of beautiful women completely out of his league.

Filled with clichés, there are moments in the film where one may begin to wonder if this facile affair was written with the 30 year-old adult or the pre-pubescent audience in mind, Klapisch uses an adolescent comedic tone, music-video camera effects and an European union tapestry – this time using more location settings for a sense of displacement. Indeed the narrative much like the protagonist seems to be following a road map with no accompanying directions – it’s no wonder that the film includes about half a dozen shots of a train firing in and out of a tunnel.

Luckily the occasional eye candy or funny bit entertains, but what is desperately lacking is the spirit and zest of the first film. Characters that were a part of the first venture are far-less of interest in the second piece – they come off looking like props than actual flesh and bone with emotions. Falling too much into fantasy to be considered a spokespiece for the 30somethings, Les Poupées Russes is a terrible disappointment compared to its charming predecessor; here Klapisch ends up demonstrating that there really is no necessity in revisiting these characters, especially with such a weak script.

New Montreal Film Festival 2005.

Rating 2 stars