Paris-Manhattan

Directed by Sophie Lollouche. Starring Alice Taglioni, Patrick Bruel, Michel Aumont, Marine Delterme. 79 mins

To say Paris-Manhattan writer-director Sophie Lellouche was inspired by Woody Allen would be both an understatement and a false advertisement. Her fluffy, inconsequential film, only 79 minutes long and as light as a Parisian pastry, tells the story of Alice, a single 30-something French pharmacist. Despite her family’s constant attempts to marry her off, she’s content to learn all her lessons about life and love from Woody Allen, even prescriptively ‘dispensing’ his films to her customers.
In the lead, Alice Taglioni is quite charming, though the script does call for some Amelie character quirks that never feel completely natural. Patrick Bruel as her would-be suitor is a delight, bringing an intelligence and warmth to his role as the nihilist who declares: “We are all alone – nothing lasts except death”. The best scenes come from their barbed, flirtatious tête-à-têtes, layered and filled with comic banter. So it’s a pity that Lellouche raises the French farce ante when it comes to Alice’s family and their various affairs.
And in spite of the film’s airy charm, there’s the inescapable feeling that Lellouche’s success is not her own. As Alice converses with a Woody Allen poster, quotes from his films form his side of the dialogue, which invariably result in the funniest lines. This gimmick becomes strained, however, as does the constant siphoning off of Play It Again, Sam and Hannah and Her Sisters.
Lellouche may yet bring a smart, lovely feature to the screen. First, she needs to stop borrowing other people’s superior ideas.