Beyond Hollywood, the English-speaking world prizes misery. The finest British auteurs – Ken Loach, Terence Davies, Mike Leigh – prefer the kitchen sink to the Big House; the best Irish films – Adam and Paul, The Fading Light, Kisses, His & Hers – trade on realism, not aspiration. Broadly speaking, this is a good thing; broadly speaking, we’d prefer the natural rhythms of Roma, Open City to the artifice of, say, Bruce Almighty.
Still, as our filmmakers camp out on grubby housing estates and mean streets, they often do so at the expense of the middle classes, a vast and varied reserve who are rarely depicted on our screens, save as frightful capitalists, secret swingers or swish nouveau Irish caricatures. With some notable exceptions – Joanna Hogg, Ken Wardrop, Ivan Kavanagh – Anglo-Saxon movie makers couldn't give a toss about people who pay taxes or drive cars.
Contemporary French cinema kicks with the other foot; for most Gallic directors – everyone, that is, from Eric Rohmer to Patrice Leconte - the middle classes provide an endless source of inspiration. For decades, the drawing rooms and academic halls that so frequently frame the novel have been mined to produce crime flicks, musicals and even the odd sci-fi classic.
In that spirit, director Catherine Corsini has fashioned a compelling drama around pointedly unexceptional people; Suzanne (Kristin Scott Thomas) is a well-heeled house-frau who dreams of returning to physiotherapy now that her husband Samuel (Yvan Attal) and children no longer require wiping. During home renovations, however, she meets a dishy Spanish construction worker Ivan (Sergi López). Sparks fly and soon enough, the pair are embroiled in a torrid love affair for which our heroine is willing to risk family, home and all known comforts.
A heady, pertinent cocktail of love, mid-life crisis, and domestic abuse among the bourgeoisie, Catherine Corsini’s classy, cerebral soap can feel a little schematic. Happily, KST is on hand with thespian superpowers to save the day.