Framescourer I suspect there must be a genre term in French cinema for films in which Depardieu gets the girl by virtue of his charisma. I think he fits his conceit rather well in this kitchen-sink sized romance, an ageing but professional dance hall singer-compère. Cécile De France also fits into this as Marion, the woman who he seduces then spends the rest of the film chasing - initially it all seems a bit odd until we discover that Marion is more damaged than outward appearance might suggest.The problem for me is that I come from the north side of the channel and simply can't process the fluid morality at the heart of the film - the ease with which people slip in and out of each others' beds but remain within the same social orbit. There's nothing in the film to explain or dramatise this situation either. I found myself getting rather waylaid as to the point of it all.Director Xavier Giannoli treats the potentially toe-curling parochial dance-hall sequences with loving reverence - one can see how Alain would be happy to do these inauspicious gigs for the rest of his life. Shame about the baffling drama though. 4/10

joewoods3 Alain Mourea twice listens, from an old jukebox, to an Italian song during the movie, it is the song that inspires him but he never sings it himself. The song was by BOBBY SOLO, late 60s. one of the most beautiful songs ever, UNA LACRIMA SUL VISO. Bobby Solo had one of those unforgettable voices, a la Presley, but in his own inimitable style and a handsome presence. Italy produced the best romantic songs in this period, scores of them, another was Cinquetti's "Non ho l'eta per amarti", winner of the 1964 Eurovision song contest and still the best song to come out of it. I believe the singer was looking back at his (lost) youth and beginning of his career as this was THE song that inspired millions of his contemporaries.

writers_reign The London Film Festival is only three days old and already we've had the finest film, this one. Not that the pretentious pseuds who actually run the BFI will agree - if they did I'd be seriously frightened - even as I write they've probably got scouts out scouring the world for something from the Galapogas Islands shot from the point of view of a turtle and redolent with her inner torment as she watches her offspring being picked off by scavengers as they make for the sea but those of us who actually LIKE film as, dare I say it, Entertainment and think it is at its best exploring the Human Condition with tenderness, sensitivity, wit, etc will respond to this entry as positively as last night's packed audience i.e. with applause and cheers. It scored heavily at Cannes and on its release in France last month there was agreement amongst the critics and punters that this was Depardieu's best role in a long time and I am pleased to endorse that opinion. The problem with someone as versatile as Depardieu who can do anything is that he's frequently prevailed upon - and too often consents - to do Everything. Here he is inch perfect as a middle-aged third-rate singer - the English equivalent would be Vince Hill with charisma - making a living in clubs and discos and waging a war against karoake. It's a measure of his charm that his ex-wife, now his manager and living with a new partner, still loves him and watches over him like a mother. Short of a mid-life crisis he hits upon - both literally and figuratively - Cecile de France, half his age, a single mom and 'troubled' as they say in the soaps. As a rule Cecile de France is asked to light up the screen with her faux Audrey Hepburn smile as she did so winningly in her last outing Danielle Thompson's brilliant Fauteuils d'orchestre but here she is allowed to do 'serious' and save the smile for isolated moments which is, of course, doubly effective. At best the relationship is doomed and both parties know this deep down but the joy for the audience is how they get to that good place that we all covet. This is the kind of wonderful movie that those BFI mandarins probably used to love themselves when they were kids and thought that if they went to work for the BFI they'd be able to watch stuff like this all day long and get paid for it then, having joined, they realised that pleasure is no match for pretension. For film lovers only.

mp65steady In a rather disappointing fortnight, „Quand J'étais Chanteur" was the nicest discovery at the Cannes film festival: a simple story, beautifully told and acted. A middle-aged, overweight and worn-out ballroom singer (Gérard Depardieu, in his best role since "Cyrano de Bergerac" in 1990) falls in love with a tormented woman half his age. And although both know that more than a brief affair is almost impossible, there's is a chemistry between them that has become rare in movies. The unknown director Xavier Giannoli displays a phenomenal sense for atmosphere and is clever enough not to spell everything out. You might actually feel that you can breathe more freely during this movie - and certainly afterwards. Merveilleux!