French Exit

"Do you ever feel that you've had adulthood thrust upon you at too young an age? And that... you're still essentially a child... mimicking the behaviors of the grown-ups all around you so they won't uncover the meager contents of your heart?"

A few minutes in, I thought this is going to be one of these movies that adopt some sort of a false pretense in order to satirize the rich and upper class. Well, as I finished the movie I still think it is. But the story's attempts to dodge clichés surrounding this type of films had me constantly not only striving to classify it, but also quite baffled to know what's the point of it in the first place. Suffice it to say, it meanders a lot, especially regarding its tone which I'm not sure either the first act or Pfeiffer's magnetic performance as the delightfully sardonic Frances Price were enough to set it properly. As I said, it's meandering. And the whimsy of it being turned up to eleven in spasmodic bursts - while perfectly suits the oddball characters and the Anderson-esque style the movie has about it - feels a bit incongruous with the tender and emotive core of the story that I could catch glimpses of as the story progresses and its caustic layer being peeled off sporadically. With some touches that border on surrealism and a beguilingly sinster flair, I believe the movie become very close to going completely off the rails in its latter half to the point of stretching its believability a little too far. But everything was done efficiently and with great panache so much so I couldn't help reconciling myself with whatever this film is trying to achieve and I think I was well rewarded. By the end, my concerns were slapped across the face for everything seemed to make perfect sense despite being admittedly all over the place, and I finally could figure out what it is about - hopefully. Without getting into details to avoid spoiling anything, I think French Exit is a character study of a woman, Frances Price, who tries to break away from the phony life she leads. She's fundamentally a good and "real" person, but she's confined to the stereotypes of her aristocratic social strata. She takes a huge step towards fulfilling her purpose, only to find that the consequences of such action come arbitrarily and at a time she's neither financially, mentally nor emotionally prepared for, the thing that resulted in her having a midlife crisis of sorts. Lucas Hedges does an excellent job at complementing this with his understated performance as Frances's son, Malcolm. But Pfeiffer really knocked it out of the park here! French Exit is a bizarre satirical dramedy that I may have enjoyed a little too much. It boasts some deadpan humour that I couldn't resist. It might not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's definitely worth checking out.

I don't understand the reviews that trash this movie, primarily because the complaints seem to stem from the type of movie this is and disappointment that it isn't something else.

Slight, subtle, art house-type movies typically appeal to a certain kind of moviegoer so I'm confused why this movie would even be something a viewer expecting outright comedy, big plots or themes or action - some of the complaints about the film - would ever select to watch. This would never appeal to my spouse, who prefers superhero movies. I, on the other hand, personally like subtle movies about reflection of one's life and choices, and the damage or outcomes that can result from those choices...which is what I felt this movie was about.

Michelle Pfeiffer and Lucas Hedges, as mother and son - as well as the rest of the supporting cast (especially Valerie Mahaffey as Madame Reynard) - were great. All around good performances with a sprinkling of humor; I didn't expect belly laughs. Michelle Pfeiffer as Frances was very effective as a woman coming to terms with the vanity, superficiality, and naïveté of her younger years and the mistakes made in her marriage, with her finances, and with her now-adult son. She presents as strong but aloof, keeping people at a distance as a means to protect herself - only to find enjoyment and a family of sorts with a full house of strangers who have assembled around her in her quest to find a cat presumed to carry the spirit of her dead husband.

For sure, not a lot goes on action-wise. Just Frances loosening up emotionally enough to come to terms with her current circumstances. Slight and bittersweet, but not horrible by any means.

Michelle Pfeiffer plays an eccentric and rather lost socialite whose money has run out, so she sells everything she has and moves, with her withdrawn son to Paris, ostensibly to die before her money, which she continues to spend apace, runs out.

There is a lot going on in this quirky, surreal dark comedy / drama - including an underlying mystery regarding the death of Pfeiffer's husband and his spirit's possible occupation of their cat and her son's on / off relationship with Imogen Poots. At the centre of all this and in large part the main reason for watching this is Pfeiffer giving a superb performance as the saddened but brutally effervescent Frances. There do seems to be things missing here and not all the supporting characters have sufficient heft but overall this is great pleasure with some deft comedy certainly some weird stuff and in the end great sweetness.

Michelle Pfeiffer plays an aging socialite who finds herself broke and needing to start over. With her son and cat in tow, they take off to stay at a friend's apartment in Paris to figure things out.

The cat plays a prominent role and takes the film into the absurd realm. I could have done without this subplot as it changes the tone of the film halfway through. If they were going for surreal and absurd go in 100% or don't go there at all. The story didn't need it.

Despite that, Pfeiffer's commitment to playing this affected, sarcastic woman keeps you interested. At times she is hilarious, then gradually the layers are pulled back, revealing the pain underneath the facade. Her scenes in the latter part of the film are emotional and moving.

The supporting cast was very good as well. Lucas Hedges, the seemingly go-to young actor in Hollywood, was appropriately deadpan and amusing. But it's Pfeiffer who deserves an Oscar nomination. It's truly one of her best roles.

With the adjective "French" in the title French Exit, much more can be expected than someone just leaving a country. With existential echoes and philosophical attitude the French can have over a croissant, an audience can see where writer Patrick DeWitt and director Azazel Jacobs are going in this low-key drawing-room comedy.

The glamorous Michell Pfeiffer plays sixty-year-old former Manhattan socialite Frances, who encourages thoughts that go from the losses aging brings to the mortality ultimately reserved for all. She has lost her wealthy businessman husband, Franklin (voice of Tracy Letts), who returns with the help of randy seer Madeleine the Medium (Danielle Macdonald) in the form of a black cat (yes, the occult element is one of the lighter elements of a film, described as a comedy but really a darkly and quietly humorous melodrama). Call it a farce because it's French, but don't expect to laugh much.

As in the work of Wes Anderson and Woody Allen (check out the Midnight in Paris-type music), the comedic turns are due largely to eccentric characters who don't fit snugly with the overarching themes of love and friendship at the end of things. At French Exit's end, it is far more melancholy than funny.

Dutiful son Malcolm (Lucas Hedges) accompanies her to a friend's flat in Paris (one of several friends to help her through her grief such as ditsy Madame Reynard, played by Valerie Mahaffey) never certain how to take his mother's sardonic wit, or maybe just amused while perhaps not knowing it is her time to exit. Whatever, Hedges plays him vulnerable and shy to the world and her (he can't bring himself to tell his mother he's engaged, for goodness's sake)

With echoes of Sartre and Camus, French Exit reminds the audience there is no exit from our common end. Gradually Frances is shedding her wealth, friends, and family and accumulating a retinue of characters who exist to remind her, it seems, of how inextricably we are tied to others until we are not.