Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train

Let me say first of all that I'm not a train freak - but for train freaks, the shots on board the train were well done, there was a good sense of movement all through. Even after the funeral - and no trains, this was sustained.

I was amused at Jean-Baptiste's desire for everyone who loved him to go by train, but his coffin to be transported by car - and did have to ask if those who came to the funeral by car did it from lack of love for the dear departed or from geographical necessity? I enjoyed this film more than I expected to; it was well paced, the characters were compelling, if not exactly your average circle of family and friends.

The standard of acting was generally very good - I particularly enjoyed Vincent Perez's performance.

If it reminded me of anything, the use of a widely varied soundtrack put me in mind of some of Fassbinder's better work.

I feel this film justifies watching more than once, if only to sort out who's who and where they fit together, but, from first viewing, plenty of life, despite being based round a death.

I thought this movie was great. Yes it is quite different from Queen Margot, but it certainly has its own merits. Music is used beautifully in the film to underscore a character's emotional state. The rather morbid subject of the film is handled with great sensitivity. This movie is a rather intense experience and as far as the emotional continuity of the film's characters goes it is a bit messy. A common experience, I find at least, when watching French "art" films. Perhaps a mere cultural difference. I would certainly recommend the film, and doesn't that Pascal Greggory look just like Bruce Willis? The movie is beautifully shot as well, Patrice is the man.

They all loved him. Jean Louis Trintignat is the focus of their love. He is dead. Love is not. The shape, light and nature of one's love for another changes from character to character. I was riveted by that puzzle that love usually implies. And Vincent Perez? Where is he? I kept waiting for him to appear in all its unbearable beauty. The film was almost over and no sign of Perez. But, I was rapidly falling in love with a young woman I had never seen before on the screen. She is not just a superb actress but a monumental beauty. Hold on a minute. I think I've seen her before. God almighty! It's Vincent Perez! Among the many delightful, thoughtful surprises of this, unusual, french import is Vincent Perez as a girl. If you let the film happen and you don't fight it. You are going to have a wonderful experience.

A minor but charismatic painter dies, and his friends and lovers and family go by train to Limoges for his funeral. There is a lot of bitterness and regret and desire: sometimes sudden and apparently irresistible, and it's given a very warm and lovely treatment here. The beauty of the men and their desire for each other is attractive (one does not have to be gay, though it helps to be sympathetic). However, the whole complicated story seems to me to be soaked through with the glum assumption that everything, everything is expendable, and the only good to be achieved is in brief moments of passion, and passion inevitably fades. There is no point in holding on to anyone. Is this apotheosis of fickleness strictly a gay theme? Certainly not, but it is central here. Apparently critics have talked of something being reborn in the story, but I could see only sadness. Happy endings may often be contrived, but sometimes I suspect the ineluctable dissolution ending can be just as contrived. Perhaps I just don't get it, but all this short-term loving, this coming close only to be set drifting outward into darkness seems unnecessarily painful, and I resent being told that's the way it is.

One epiphany too many in this film, which had me and nearly every other filmgoer checking their watches repeatedly. No one was surprised by the graphic homosexual sex, nor the transvestite, nor the other pseudo-revelations we were forced to endure. Having recently seen THE CELEBRATION, I found Ceux...'s script boring and predictable, which forced its makers to resort to a cheezy soundtrack which made over-obvious comments on the THEMES and INNER STATES of the far-too-numerous-to-be-fully-developed characters, and, worse, to enervatingly jarring cinematography. The Danish pic carried out its more ambitious project with more flair and less pyrotechniques, and achieved pathos and fuller characterization. If this film hails the rebirth of le cinema francais, then don't be surprised if the land of degaulle is not in the forefront of european cinema in the vingt-et-unieme. Interestingly, could the big-family-reunion cycle in Europe be connected to the integraion of the continent, and deeply-held fears about the internal struggles/issues which remain unresolved? Can european cousins really get along?