esagarnaga-1 Undoubtedly, we are talking about a film released twelve years ago, so we can cut some slack here to the imprecisions and errors in the script, but even though it tries to be a comedy, I couldn't help to become completely baffled with the way the pace is conducted and forcibly led. There are too many obvious silly details that make me wonder if the director was trying to tease the spectator or simply was disregarding those for the sake of the time frame and the so-called comedy. William Hurt portrays a very stiff and iconic psychoanalyst and during the whole time he is meddled in ridiculous situations, maybe because his own stiffness has those inevitable consequences. I never was convinced by his portray; why he decides to go to Paris? why he comes back? why doesn't have the gull to tell Beatrice who really he is from point one? How come all of the sudden he falls in love with Beatrice? During the whole film you wonder if this renown expert is more novice than Beatrice who actually looks like performs at the couch better than him. I think that the role assigned to William Hurt was bad developed, bad implemented and bad performed. Maybe not to put the blame on him. The end was pushed because there were no more stereotypic ideas to exploit, or maybe the budget was short, or maybe everybody had something better to do so it was better to kill the movie than keep on going. Anyway, you end up completely bemused and wondering about what just happened. I wouldn't recommend this film if not for watching Juliette Binoche, who is always a delightful gift for the eyes.

Howard Schumann In Couch in New York, the first American film by acclaimed Belgian director Chantal Akerman, Dr. Henry Harriston (William Hurt) is a dour New York psychoanalyst who is close to exhaustion. He decides to place an ad in the Paris Herald Tribune offering to swap his New York apartment for a month. Henry ends up in the digs of a free-spirited dancer from Paris, Beatrice Saulnier (Juliet Binoche) and she takes over his swank New York penthouse. Obviously well to do, Henry's apartment is spacious, impeccably furnished, and meticulously cared for, while hers is messy, bohemian, and funky. In what Ms. Akerman describes as "what Hollywood calls a double fish out of water film", this film is something of a curiosity yet it's one of the best screwball romantic comedies I've seen. The premise is totally ludicrous of course and off the wall but that's what makes it so special. Of course, I'm particularly open to films that pop the bubble of the psychiatric establishment.Apparently Henry forgets to tell his patients he is going away and they come knocking on Ms. Saulnier's door and calling for appointments, hardly even noticing the change in doctors. Being a sweet and sympathetic soul and not wanting to turn people away, she listens to their stories for an hour and they pay her money for her advice (illegally of course). She learns quickly that all analysts have to say is "yeees" or "hmmmm" or "what comes to mind now?" and get paid big bucks. Of course, patients have the right to remain silent and sometimes nothing comes to mind (they can sometimes spend an hour in total silence and must still pay for the privilege). Ms. Saulnier is an understanding person and a good listener and, in quite a slap at the "professionals", achieves more success with Henry's patients (not to mention his dog Edgar) in one week than he apparently has in years.Beatrice decides to continue to pretend to be Dr. Harriston's assistant and studies up on her Freud. Meanwhile in Paris, Henry must contend with Beatrice's aggressive boy friends, messy rooms, leaky plumbing and the hammering of a roof being repaired. Fed up with the problems in Paris, he returns to New York to stay with an old friend in a down home part of Brooklyn. Conveniently for the plot, the good doctor stops off at his office and finds Beatrice playing psychoanalyst and his patients miraculously improved. Finding Ms. Saulnier intriguing and attractive, he goes along with her game, pretending to be her patient. This sets off a process of mutual discovery and self-awareness that is quite predictable but nonetheless amusing and enlightening.This was my first Akerman film and while I realize it is totally unlike her others, I really loved it and found both leads to be superb. Binoche never looked more alluring and Hurt is terrific in his role as the deadpan doctor. I don't know who's crazy, the majority of critics who trashed it or me, but I know for sure one of us is ready for the couch. I won't say any more about Couch in New York except that while it does unfold its magic at a very leisurely pace, the rewards are there for the patient (no pun intended). Since the ending left me with such a warm, fuzzy feeling, I'm thinking of calling Ms. Binoche and.well.on second thought.

taylor9885 This mess needed a Lubitsch touch if it was ever going to succeed, and Akerman is no Lubitsch. Bad script, poor acting (although it is amusing to hear Hurt's French--what is behind this trend for American actors in French roles?; cf Malkovich in Temps Retrouve). When the best scene is a dog swimming in Central Park lake, you've got trouble.

Doctor_Bombay The premise is a little unrealistic, that a uber-psychiatrist would temporarily abandon his Manhattan practice to switch apartments for a month in Paris-a switch with an unknown woman made through the newspaper. Incroyable!!!But when you have a chance to make a film with two Academy Award winners, Juliette Binoche and William Hurt, set both in New York and Paris, who would pass the chance? Chantal Ackerman could not, the opportunity to make her first English speaking film a bonus.The film is a reminder of how difficult it is to cross the pond movie-wise. Nuance and sub-text is awkward or incomprehensible here-the threads on which the movie is woven are frassled.This artsy little film survives entirely on Binoche's vitality, her French innocence and enthusiasm dominates every negative New York influence her character encounters.It fails most everywhere else, sadly.