Thursday 10 November 2011

Why I’m Craving Oysters and Pinot Grigio


Although it’s been playing since the early summer, only yesterday did I get to see Les Petits Mouchoirs (Little White Lies), written and directed by the oh so handsome Guillaume Canet, who you might remember as Virginie Ledoyen’s boyfriend in The Beach and know as Marion Cotillard’s husband.
Les Petits Mouchoirs is part drama, part comedy about a group of thirty-something well-off Parisian friends who choose to keep their yearly tradition and head off to gorgeous Arcachon for a couple of weeks of sea, sun and wine-soaked vacation, despite leaving behind one of their number in intensive care after a horrific motorcycle accident. This tragedy and moral dilemma sets the tone for the rest of the film, where characters debate and doubt everything, from their sexual orientation to the text messages they send.
A French version of The Big Chill meets Secrets andLies, actor-turned-director Guillaume Canet’s sophomore film was despised by critics across the board who deemed it unoriginal, clichéd, too long (154mins) and underwhelming when compared to Canet’s highly acclaimed debut thriller Ne Le Dit à Personne, also starring Francois Cluzet.
I, however, very much enjoyed Les Petits Mouchoirs, laughed whole-heartedly and sobbed in the tear-jerking finale. By exploring the relationships of this group of long-term friends, the film really spoke to me and focuses on the feeling many of us late-twenties, early-thirties share: it’s that stage in life when you realize things haven’t quite turned out as you hoped for and find yourself thinking “I really f*cked up, didn’t I?”. I guess most young adults can easily relate with the film’s characters: they’re just like us, a chain-smoking, wine-drinking and oyster-eating French version of us. But the best part is that, even though life is sh*tty, even though we all have skeletons in our closet and even if we tell each other little white lies – because we’re pride, ashamed or protecting others – well, the truth is that, somehow, friends, the real ones, stick with us no matter up: we’re locked together by their bonds of love and that’s what makes life worth living. Cliché? Sure. But true, thank God, very true.

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