In this tense and character-driven romantic tragi-comedy, we are given an insight into the intertwining lives of four thirtysomething Parisians. At the centre is Vinz Cassell's portrayal of Max. A starry-eyed Romeo, he falls head over heels for beautiful stranger Lisa (Bellucci). Encouraged by his put-upon best friend Lucien (Écoffey, in an understated but effective performance), he wins her heart and they live happily ever after... that is, until the scheming, neurotic and obsessive Alice (the versatile Romane Bohringer) becomes very involved in the lives and loves of the other three.
The rich plot is thickened by a curious chronological jumble, and the movie emerges as an intricate jigsaw, the eye-candy of picture-postcard Paris at the heart of it all. The use of colour does not go unnoticed, particularly in Lisa's spectacular apartment (presumably accounting for the film's title), where the reds and yellows provoke the fires of passion and lust.
The audience can relate to Max: he truly wears his heart on his sleeve and is constantly punished by irony and circumstance for it. In one memorable scene, our fated lovers (agonisingly separated by a 'choreographed' misunderstanding) narrowly miss out on the chance meeting that would surely reunite them. Independent of one another, they travel to the same destination: her on the Metro, him in a taxi, practically tête-à-tête. Yet fate seems to have it in for them, and the audience is captivatingly teased.
The performances in this film are really what make L'Appartement stand out. I still cannot understand why Vincent Cassell is not a big star outside France. He has presence and diversity in abundance. Monica Bellucci (Cassell's real-life spouse at the time of writing) has recently found fame in the Anglophone film industry, but perhaps for the wrong reasons - true, she is divinely beautiful, but behind that is a talented actress who can dominate a scene in classic 'leading-lady' style, which many British and American actresses dismiss in favour of the all-too-easy 'subtle' approach.
All in all, watch this film! I doubt you'll be disappointed. It is gripping, satisfying, amusing, sad, lavish, and a lesson in artistic film-making.
The rich plot is thickened by a curious chronological jumble, and the movie emerges as an intricate jigsaw, the eye-candy of picture-postcard Paris at the heart of it all. The use of colour does not go unnoticed, particularly in Lisa's spectacular apartment (presumably accounting for the film's title), where the reds and yellows provoke the fires of passion and lust.
The audience can relate to Max: he truly wears his heart on his sleeve and is constantly punished by irony and circumstance for it. In one memorable scene, our fated lovers (agonisingly separated by a 'choreographed' misunderstanding) narrowly miss out on the chance meeting that would surely reunite them. Independent of one another, they travel to the same destination: her on the Metro, him in a taxi, practically tête-à-tête. Yet fate seems to have it in for them, and the audience is captivatingly teased.
The performances in this film are really what make L'Appartement stand out. I still cannot understand why Vincent Cassell is not a big star outside France. He has presence and diversity in abundance. Monica Bellucci (Cassell's real-life spouse at the time of writing) has recently found fame in the Anglophone film industry, but perhaps for the wrong reasons - true, she is divinely beautiful, but behind that is a talented actress who can dominate a scene in classic 'leading-lady' style, which many British and American actresses dismiss in favour of the all-too-easy 'subtle' approach.
All in all, watch this film! I doubt you'll be disappointed. It is gripping, satisfying, amusing, sad, lavish, and a lesson in artistic film-making.