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TagsBY MIRIAM RINN
NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM
MOVIE REVIEW
One of the characters in Agnes Jaoui’s “Let's Talk About the Rain,” says somewhat bitterly, “It’s so convenient to be fragile,” and that observation encapsulates much of this Chekhovian comedy. Jaoui has gathered a varied group of shlemiels and shlimazels, set them down on what passes for a ruined estate somewhere in the French countryside and lets them try to convince each other that they are or are not at fault when everything falls apart. That she succeeds in making us feel rueful empathy for the lost souls in this gently funny film is a testament to the filmmaker’s emotional generosity.
Well-known feminist writer Agathe Villanova (played by Jaoui herself) arrives at her childhood home to help her sister Florence (Pascale Arbillot) go through their dead mother’s things, and also campaign for a regional election. As if that wasn’t enough to keep her busy while she‘s there, she has also agreed to be interviewed and filmed for a documentary made by Karin, the son of the family’s longtime Algerian housekeeper, and his partner, professional videographer Michel. Not to waste a minute, Agathe brings along her boyfriend Antoine (Frederic Pierrot) for a vacation. Why waste a trip to the countryside, after all? Too bad that it hasn’t stopped raining for a month.
Agathe is one of those people who oozes competence. Constantly checking her smart phone, she moves efficiently from one project to another, whether it’s writing, politics or people. Of course, she’s soon undermined, first by Florence, a pretty, anxious woman who insists angrily that their mother always favored Agathe, but mostly by Karin and Michel. These two create disasters at every turn. Played by Jamel Debbouze, one of France’s most popular comedians, Karin is a clever young man who can’t rise above the discrimination inflicted on French citizens of Arab heritage. He’s furious at the condescending way Florence’s unemployed husband treats his mother and the tiny room they’ve given her to live in, and even more disgusted that she continues to work when they can no longer afford to pay her wages. Although Agathe arranged a job for him and has helped his mother file for divorce from an abusive husband, Karin stays focused on her contributing role in a racist system.While Karin nurses his wounds, Michel, played with great comedic timing by the film’s co-writer Jean-Pierre Bacri, complains to anyone who will listen about his misfortunes. His ex-wife married someone richer, his teenage son doesn’t want to spend time with him and why can’t he ever remember where he put his glasses? Michel is the consummate shlemiel here, habitually bungling any project he attempts. He doesn’t turn on the camera when he should, he talks about himself rather than asking questions when interviewing, he can’t even recall Karin’s wife’s name. Yet there’s something very human and warm behind his blunders, and we‘re not really surprised to learn that he‘s having an ecstatic affair with Florence. Bacri gives Michel — the kind of guy any sane person would flee after ten minutes — enough depth so that we see the genuineness along with the self-destructiveness.
The opening of the film jumps quickly from scene to scene, echoing Agathe’s hyperactive tempo, but it slows down when she settles into the more relaxed pace of country life. The narrative then moves in an almost aimless fashion between the characters, revealing the ties and history that bind them and their need for affection and for approval. Agathe may be more efficient than the rest of them, but she’s really not that much more successful in her relationships. One of the more ironic, yet poignant, moments comes when Mimouna, the housekeeper, urges Agathe to marry so she’ll have someone to care for her if she’s sick. This from a woman who needs a restraining order to keep her husband away from her. But Agathe doesn’t laugh or scoff. The professional feminist looks at her old nurse thoughtfully, as if she’d often thought that she’d like to have someone bring her an aspirin when she has a headache. These people have no more clue than the rest of us how to make it through life and avoid cataclysm — they’re just trying to stay dry during the downpours.
