For all the things that French Exit is, it is simultaneously far too much and far too little of each. When French Exit decides it wants to be a dark and surreal exploration of life after death, it jauntily goes along with moments of humour and intrigue. When it wants to be a touching drama about a mother and her son, it seems to be maintaining an emotional through line for the film, but too fails on that front. When French Exit seemingly tries its best to get Michelle Pfeiffer the Oscar she so rightly deserves, it gives her a bizarre character whose flights of fantasy are only there to seemingly make the character quirkier without any bearing on truth in it. For all the things it is, and for all the moments that I actually rather enjoyed the film and the performances within it (for this is above anything else a ‘showcase’ for a collection of wonderful character actors with sub-par material), French Exit quite simply falls between not two stools, but at least six. A dramatic stool, a comedy stool, a dark stool and on and on... Insert overly cruel joke here about how you could call the film itself ‘a dramatic stool’.

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Adapted by Patrick DeWitt for the screen from his novel, French Exit tells the tale of a seemingly suicidal widow who moves to France with her son and her cat following the revelation that the funds have led to a form of bankruptcy. Pfeiffer plays this widow Frances Price, with Lucas Hedges as her somewhat estranged son Malcolm. This brand of tale of riches to rags has been told many times in many genres, whether it be the bleakest of dramas or the lightest of comedies, or indeed somewhere in between. This between is where French Exit tries to place itself, with the addition of a strong under-current of the deeply surreal and absurd at times, in particular relation to the cat they take with them. The script itself is a lightly humorous wit fest filled with sardonic humour, or at least it tries to be, however many of the overly witty ramblings of our leads do come off as forced and severely un-naturalistic, and although the film clearly does habitate a realm not wholly in naturalism, but somewhere in-between, these moments feel forced and not intended to be as they were received. Frankly, one way to put it would be that the film just isn’t very funny. It’s very dry, very, very dry. However it is clear on multiple occasions that laugh lines are being presented, and although some got chuckles from me, overall the film really did not affect me in any major way.

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The world that director Azael Jacobs has made is one that we do for the most part enjoy spending time in, but is neither due to the writing or in many ways the directing, which despite the flights of fantasy was largely un-interesting, never once leaving the world of bland set-ups and un-interesting montages. I think if one were to place the major fault it would have to be on the writing. The yarn that DeWitt has spun is just one that goes nowhere. It’s a character study of a woman who we never actually get to know the truth underneath her whimsy, and again although that could be an interesting premise for a film, it is clearly not the conceived one here. The direction doesn’t lift anything and the jaunty (and rather lovely) score by Nicholas DeWitt, again leads one to believe that the film is a far bouncier and better paced affair than it actually is. As aforementioned the film itself is at its best when its stellar ensemble is on screen, although they are repeatedly never given anything truly wonderful to deliver, they do each rise to the occasion again and again. The undoubted winner of the film for me has to be Valerie Mahaffey whose bizarre (in the perfectly right tone) Madame Reynard is a delightful combination of whacky and the deeply emotional, one seriously gets the view with her that we perhaps would prefer with Pfeiffer’s character. Hedges is perfectly average, but does have moments where his characters aloofness comes off again as un-natural and wooden, rather than intentionally dry and quiet. Imogen poots is wonderful as always and gives more depth than is written on the page for a rather serviceable girlfriend character. Isaach De Bankole and Daniel Di Tomasso come in late in the game but both have lovely moments stealing the show as they subvert the path we’re going on. However all in all the path we’re going on, just is nowhere near as interesting, whimsical or frankly entertaining as the writer or the director think it is,

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French Exit isn’t terrible, but it certainly isn’t any-more than a 5/10. What was clearly intended as some form of campaign for Pfeiffer simply is no greater establishment of her talents than any of her previous roles. The film around her is convoluted and messy and never finds a firm footing or consistency of any kind. What could have been a loose exploration of a bunch of fun and interesting characters passing through a spot by chance, doesn’t have anywhere near enough interesting characters or dialogue to constitute its run-time. A little oddity of a feature, that I don’t think it’s strongest parts will draw me to view again. The bland and the less interesting certainly outweighed the moments of success.

P.S. Please God let’s not lead Pfeiffer, our glorious angel, down the path of one Glen Close. Give her an Oscar quick, so one must not endure a Pfeiffer led Hillbilly Elegy type affair. Hell, she was already in I am Sam, give the woman a break. Let’s get her a nice new prestige drama soon. Pretty please.

-       -   Thomas Carruthers