The opening film of the Cannes film festival, fishermen topping the charts and a female blockbuster … What should we see this week? The editorial selection of the Figaro.
Fisherman’s Friends , a comedy by Chris Foggin, 1h52.
A trendy Londoner takes it into his head to produce a record of sea songs. Result, of Cornish gouailleurs fishermen that the songs of ancestral sailors will propel to the head of record sales. Improbable, this feat, which looks like the beginning of a good joke, is nevertheless taken from a true story that the writers transform into a charming comedy of manners. A bit romantic, as only the English know how to do. What Fisherman’s Friends loses in subtlety, the comedy with the too wise direction makes up for it with a heart as big as that and a stunning authenticity.
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Black widow , an action film by Cate Shortland, 2:14.
The female alter ego of a Batman, Natasha Romanoff always cuts a good figure, while carrying within her the stigmata of an assumed ideological betrayal. Cate Shortland staged a female blockbuster, where women take the lead, and the Black Widow, uprooted heroine though she is, continues to fight for the weak and the oppressed. Scarlett Johansson brings out all the finesse of her game in this Black Widow character that she has played for ten years for Marvel. An atypical blockbuster which, however, divides the Culture department of Figaro. Constance Jamet and Olivier Delcroix appreciated the history of this “Uprooted heroine who continues to fight for the weak and the oppressed” when Simon Cherner struggles to find his account “In an alignment of scenes of boxing or chases without much flavor, where the car fleet is more sympathetic than the combatants”.
Annette , a musical by Leos Carax, 2h20.
Henry is a stand-up comic. Ann is a soprano. They are therefore famous. On the boards, she dies under her red wig. There will be something premonitory about it. They have a strange baby with almost supernatural gifts and protruding ears – the title Annette – and Henry has cut the cord. Suddenly, six ladies accuse the hero of having abused them. Also tumbles a jealous conductor. What a genius! This poetry. The film swells like La Fontaine’s frog. All this interminable, ornate, bombastic. Carax has a certain sense of the pompous. He films in capital letters. He thinks he is approaching the sublime; it often borders on the ridiculous. This garish melodrama is a magnificent object whose every effort would be devoted to making it admired. We have known for a long time that Carax has nothing to say.
I wanted to hide , a drama by Giorgio Diritti, 2h.
Did you like Séraphine de Senlis, her painting as naive as it was brilliant, and the biopic that followed? Here is a male pendant of the Helvetian-Italian Antonio Ligabue (1899-1965). Despite the performance of three actors incarnating him at different ages of his life, the too many scenes of rage attacks typical of manic depression tire. This harms the consideration of its production. That of a cursed one certainly. But much less colorful than that of a Van Gogh or much less fantastic than that of a Douanier Rousseau.
The flavor of quinces , a drama by Kristina Grozeva and Petar Valchanov, 1h27.
Classically made, this film tells about the mourning of the mother and its repercussions on a family in present-day Bulgaria. Nothing innovative in this bittersweet requiem on the loss of a loved one that reveals the traumas between a father and his son. In truth, not enough to stop a quince …