 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
 |
| |
MARIUS ET JEANETTE
Robert Guédiguian, France, 1997
|
|
 |
| |
"It's ages since someone took notice of me..." Single mum Jeannette has been on a bad streak since her last partner went out for cigarettes eight years ago and never came back. Her house is falling apart, she's got two kids to feed and her back hurts. It's just her luck to be caught stealing paint from the local cement works.
But who is the shotgun-wielding security guard who stops her in her tracks? To Jeannette, Marius seems no less than a knight in shining armour. A bronzed, softly-spoken hunk, he's willing to listen, look after the children and help out around the house. He's also got a great bum ("round as an apple" if you will). Gradually, Marius helps Jeannette learn to live - and love - again. Then, one day, he disappears. Is history about to repeat itself?
Set in Guédiguian's native Estaque region, this warm-hearted tale has the capacity to charm and seduce the viewer. A bittersweet romance at heart, it's propelled by a pair of touchingly honest performances from Ascaride and Meylan.
However, beneath the film's light humour and occasional flights of fancy lies an earnest examination of hand-to-mouth lives, informed by the everyday realities of strikes and unemployment. Witness Jeannette's trek to the end of an inordinately long queue of job hunters.
There's an unmistakable sense throughout that the director not only knows these characters (interpreted by his regular set of collaborators), but that he truly cares for them. It's a mark of his achievement that by the end of the film we do too. From inauspicious beginnings Jeannette, in particular, wins us over with her romantic dreams and resilient spirit. As portrayed by Ascaride (Guédiguian's wife), she's more than a little reminiscent of some of the characters Giulietta Masina played for her husband, Federico Fellini.
Chris Wiegand
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|