Mademoiselle Chambon (2009)
Directed by Stéphane Brizé

Film Review

With his fourth feature, a quintessentially Gallic portrayal of forbidden love that is crafted with exquisite tenderness and delicacy, Stéphane Brizé confirms his standing as one of France's leading auteur filmmakers.  Whereas most romantic dramas these days have a tendency to go overboard with the emotions in an attempt to convey the traumas of love, Mademoiselle Chambon takes a more introspective approach that is no less effective and considerably more satisfying.  The film doesn't throw emotion into our face; it gently arouses the subtlest feelings in our hearts and induces us, rather than commands us, to sympathise with the two protagonists as they reluctantly succumb to that fatal attraction.

Cast as the star-crossed lovers, Vincent Lindon and Sandrine Kiberlain both turn in a performance of exceptional quality that will doubtless have the more emotionally sensitive reaching for their hankies long before the credits roll.   The fact that Lindon and Kiberlain were once husband and wife in real life may have something to do with the startling reality of their portrayals.  Much of the power of the film lies in the fact that the characters have a profound reluctance to show their true feelings for one another.  They find it hard to communicate verbally what they feel and yet we have no doubt that, beneath the surface calm, they are both battling against a storm of emotions.  It is through the subtlest of gestures that they reveal the first glimmerings of a romantic entanglement, and whilst we recognise this as a thing of beauty we know also that the ensuing love affair cannot end well.  There are some scenes where Lindon is so visibly tormented by his character's predicament that you just want to take Eros by the scruff of his pretty little neck and shove him through a meat grinder.

As in his previous Je ne suis pas là pour être aimé (2005), Brizé crafts a low-key drama that is sublime in its authenticity and irresistibly poignant.  The plot is about as hackneyed as a plot can be, mined with clumsy metaphors and clichés that ought to have been pensioned off decades ago, and yet the film still rings true, such is the sincerity and genuine emotional feeling that the director and his talented cast bring to it.  In the hands of a lesser filmmaker Mademoiselle Chambon would most probably have been unbearably trite, the kind of soap-style melodrama that went out of fashion in the 1950s.  It is testament to Stéphane Brizé's skill as a writer and director that his understated adaptation of Eric Holder's novel has such a powerful resonance, and a quiet contemplative lyricism which makes it one of the most beguiling romantic dramas in recent years.

Film Synopsis

Jean is a man in his forties who could not be more content with the way his life is going.  He is happily married with a son and enjoys his work as a mason.  He is well-liked by all who know him, and he seems to be, in every respect, the model citizen.  It doesn't bother him that he is uncultivated and has next to no education.  He is good at his job, and that's all that matters.  This all changes when he meets Véronique Chambon, his son's young schoolteacher.  She inhabits a completely different world to him, and yet he finds himself strangely drawn to her.

After agreeing to give a talk to her class about his work, Jean goes out of his way to meet up with the amiable teacher.  Véronique appears to be equally taken with him and asks if he will repair a window for her.  Within a few weeks these two seemingly ill-matched people realise they are in love with each other, but it is a kind of love that Jean has never known before, more spiritual than physical.  A man of few words, he struggles to express his emotions, whilst she, a woman of some learning, finds it so easy to say what is in her heart.  Despite their different backgrounds, Jean and Véronique soon find themselves bound to one another, by feelings that are too powerful to resist...