It's a French movie. But not too French. You don't have to be Parisian, and know everything about existentialism and postmodernism in order to understand it. That's good - I only got up to Freud (yes, he comes into the story), and then my brain put out a sign: "Carpark Full." And the English language subtitles are nearly always legible. That's even better.
Being middle-aged ought to be cool. You've passed the exams and got through the job interviews, and now you're a well respected "professeur." Unlike a certain country that shall not be named, France doesn't leave many of its brightest teachers in a rat-race, a dissertation-publishing madhouse, in desperate search of tenure at a good college. Nathalie can afford to be elegant, urbane.
The problem with being middle-aged is that there are people who are younger. Younger people might attract your spouse, and they can look like they're smarter at work, more connected, more relevant. And your own daughter is a younger person, and her sexuality will be fresh and exciting. Nathalie can survive the divorce - it's in the French DNA to be able to handle divorce. And good news, she has a date. And the guy takes a quick glance at the daughter. It was only a couple of seconds, I was watching. But that's it! He's out! And mother yells at daughter. For "flaunting herself"?
They have psychiatrists who specialize in mother-daughter relationships? Does this have anything to do with the transition into menopause? And do you want to know what happens next? Because the film does spell out what happens. And that's good. French title: "Jalouse."
