FILM REVIEW: BICYCLING WITH MOLIERE

Serge (Fabrice Luchini) in Bicycling with Moliere. 

Circling the stage

By John Esther

A somewhat witty, certainly revealing, tale of clashing egos, the latest film by Philippe Le Guay – whose previous film was the lackluster The Woman on the 6^th Floor – two French actors get together to see it they can collaborate on Moliere’s The Misanthrope.

Gauthier (Lambert Wilson) is a successful actor with a wildly popular TV show about a surgeon who saves lives regardless of circumstances. Give the good doctor a plastic knife and he can save a young girl dying in the middle of the Sahara Desert. Already popular, rich and handsome Gauthier still wants a little more out of life. He wants something he can really sink his teeth into, like The Misanthrope, considered Moliere’s most demanding play for actors.

If he is going to pull it off, he will need the help of a fellow actor, Serge (Fabrice Luchini). For three years, Serge has led a hermetic life on the Ile de Ré, a posh area on France’s Atlantic Coast.

An expert on Moliere and a misanthrope in his own right, Serge would seem to be the perfect actor for the play’s protagonist, Alceste. But Gauthier wants to play Alceste, with Serge playing his Alceste's friend, Philinte, which is a smaller part.

Since Serge wants to play Alecste, too, the two of them agree to alternate rehearsing different roles. They may even do this for the play itself with the two alternating roles each week.

As the two rehearse over the next few days many conflicts arrive. Cellphones, bicycle accidents, a lover interest and bad plumbing interfere with the creative process. But what threatens any future production the most is the role of the egos of the actors. Every time progress is made, another setback comes along. On with the play, I say.

Certainly worth a view, Bicycling with Moliere has many charming warm moments about friendship, camaraderie and artistic and literary integrity in a world not to fond of that kind of thing; although France, in general, is significantly appreciative of great theater than the United States. You can bet far more French people, per capita, know a Moliere play more than Americans know one by Tennessee Williams or any American playwright for that matter. 

But the real strength of the play comes from watching the two experiencing the joys of working through a great piece of drama. How does one interpret a role, especially one from the 17^th century? How does one follow Moliere’s rhythm and still make it sound relevant to modern audiences...and other artistic/acting questions? While these can be great challenges to any actor, especially the more narcissistic ones, there are great joys to be found while playing with the play. Indeed, Bicycling with Moliere should not be missed by actors. 

COLCOA 2011: OPENING NIGHT

Suzanne (Sandrine Kiberlain) and Jean-Louis (Fabrice Luchini) in Service Entrance.

Film d'aventures, Espagnol

By John Esther

At an invitation-only event, City of Lights, City of Angels (ColCoa) kicked off its 15th year with patrons, celebrities, journalists, and Francophiles packing the Directors Guild of America lobby to sip on fine wine and and nosh on good food before catching the West Coast premiere of Philippe Le Guay's Service Entrance (Les Femmes de 6èmé ètage).

Traditionally promoting French films to English-speaking Americans as a way of cultural exchange between France and America, Colcoa, intentional or otherwise, broadened its appeal to Spanish-speaking American audiences with this film about an investor, Jean-Louis (Fabrice Luchini), who befriends a group of Spanish maids who have fled to Paris from Franco's Spain.

After the death of Jean-Louis's mother, he and his wife, Suzanne (Suzanne Kiberlain), hire Maria (Natalia Verbeke), a newly-arrived Spanish maid who may not be all that she represents (she often has domestic help from her friends). A poor Catholic with some command of the French language, Maria and her fellow docile Spanish compatriots -- with the notable exception of Carmen (Lola Dueñas), a staunch lefty -- are considered a refreshing departure from their uppity French counterparts.

Singing, joyful and gregarious, the Spanish women provide an alternative milieu to the conservative one Jean-Louis dwells in and often detests (he is still the boss). Jean-Louis also begins to understand the daily struggles of the working women -- cramped quarters, clogged toilets, domestic abuse, etc., -- and does something about it. Unfortunately, Jean-Louis' benefactor behavior does not stem from any new sense of humanism or noblesse oblige, but rather for his increasing fondness for Maria.  Jean-Louis hardly recognized the existence of the other Spanish maids who actually live in his building before Maria came along.

But we all have our cages, and Maria is imprisoned in her own ways, beyond just her low income. Years ago, she gave her son up for adoption, leaving him behind in Spain. 

Doing that type of farce the French often do oh so well, Service Entrance maintains a steady beat of humor throughout the film, spicing it up with a little class consciousness and a dose of romance. It is not the best thing to come along in recent French cinema, but the French and Spanish language film's attention to detail and nuance makes for a good time at the cinema and goes further in ColCoa's commitment to cultural awareness between the two countries. 


Colcoa runs through April 18. For more information: www.colcoa.org