Now that the infamous lamp post on Ponte Milvio on which the Mocciosi locked up their honest adolescent love has been declared unsafe and cordoned off, this review comes at just the right time.

Sautet tells us the story of a love that was never born, perhaps because love is only a game of seduction whose consequences must ultimately be accepted, or perhaps also because the only thing that matters about love is desire. Either way, "A Heart in Winter" has great respect for the mysterious force of falling in love and does not profane its secrecy by slipping into melodramatic or pathetic tones, instead leaving much space for Ravel's music and the silence of some glances.

Daniel Auteuil is Stéphane, an introverted luthier who cultivates reading and solitude, a business partner of Maxime (André Dussollier), who brings clients to their small but renowned workshop. Maxime is married but does not usurp the reputation of a playboy and ends up falling in love with a young and beautiful violinist, Camille, for whom he decides to leave his wife and children. The third side of the triangle is drawn by the director in the middle of a musical rehearsal of Camille's, which Stéphane attends and during which an invisible obstacle prevents her from focusing on the sheet music. Initially, it is simple curiosity that drives Camille towards Stéphane: she, so independent, ambitious, self-confident, and aware of her sex appeal (as Totò would say, and tomorrow it will be forty years since he passed away), clashes against the wall of reserve behind which Stéphane has taken refuge from who knows what fears. Then the interest turns into sympathy and almost maternal affection, and when Camille, finally, believing she has overcome Stéphane's reluctance, declares her love for him, he, impassive, rejects it and explains that it was only a bet he made with himself, that of managing to seduce her. Camille, humiliated, goes through a long period of depression from which she will emerge completely changed, and the friendship between Maxime and Stéphane will end with a slap.

In parallel to this story without a happy ending, there are three others that enrich and clarify it. On one side, Stéphane's young apprentice, who marries at a very young age; on the other, the escape of what is the only woman in Stéphane's life, his friend the bookseller, with a wealthy winegrower. At the center is the heartbreaking story of his violin teacher, a lifelong friend, almost an adoptive father, suffering from an inevitable brain tumor, whom Stéphane will help to die. Pirandello comes into play, but it's the spirit of Lermontov (the screenplay is based on one of his stories) that pervades the film. If love exists, it must come to terms with this film. And if love exists, it rests on a very thin thread that tears and wealth, sex and kissing, children, wedding bands, or foolish intimacy are not enough to strengthen, so much is it in constant check by disillusionment.

Needless to say, the heart in winter is Stéphane's, one of the best Daniel Auteuils ever. And that Béart is better than Bardot, if we really have to choose a French cinema icon.

Loading comments  slowly