(Ramon also knows how to do Poticha (vases) beautiful)
If we put in a shaker a few drops of Jacques Demy's musical, but a good drink of milk bad Chabrol, shake it and finally add a dash of romanticism of Truffaut and a small dust of the Godard class struggle, we get ... film by François Ozon. All this together produces a result that being indebted to his predecessors is entirely personal. Ozon only with permission of Demy, you can dare to dance and sing to Catherine Deneuve and Gerard Depardieu, just a director without complexes, can depict the bourgeoisie in the provinces with the same pungency of Chabrol and touch child's private artsy, only someone without fear can dare to film Truffaut's romantic scenes with the addition of sex, and finally you need to have things very clear to raise the Godard class struggle from the perspective of a woman median provincial bourgeoisie who almost inadvertently becomes a bearer of feminism, (do not forget that we are in 1977).
In order to say this is a delight Poticha. Catherine Deneuve is a candidate worthy of a civilized French PP, with their hair combed, furs and jewels and his utter lack of prejudice, that if keeping up appearances. The film is it. She and Depardieu with his vast humanity melted no love for the icy blonde running through the field in sweats, talk to the animals and write poems. She and Luchini, intolerant husband plan on completely overcome by the circumstances. She and her two children, the boy handed over to the colorful umbrella and young blondes, the girl handed over to the convention and pregnancy. There is nothing politically correct in this fun film, but in the end, everything is absolutely endearing.
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