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Rating:
I feel a cordial antipathy towards our French friends: yet I adore French cinema, I "feel" it, I feel it as my own.
This (original title Un Homme pressé) is a film without particular pretensions, but precisely for this reason, I must admit I adore it.
The plot is quickly told: Alain is a highly successful top manager who has sacrificed his family life for the countless satisfactions his professional life has brought him.
His life is not "human," but rather that reserved for super Vips.
He suffers a stroke that makes the relationship between intentional words and real words "random."
In other words, he thinks he says sensible things, but random words come out.
This leads to his job loss (in a perhaps excessively and unbelievably harsh way), the need for a suddenly human rehabilitation journey, an uncertain skirmish in attempting to reunite with a daughter he doesn't know at all, and a salvific ending on the Camino de Santiago.
I see three areas of primary interest in the themes addressed.
First of all, the investigation into the motivations that lead a man to overlap professional life with biological life.
Is it genuine love for the role and the excellent level at which he knows how to perform it?
Is it the effect of his wife's premature death, with an impossible attempt at compensation?
Is it simple Horror vacui?
Then the phase of the illness (described in a light, funny, and amused way, don't expect painful and touching scenes because there aren't any) and the therapy.
The dialogues in which he is the protagonist are surreal and at times psychedelic, the difference between what he thinks he's saying and what comes out of his mouth is decidedly hilarious.
And the effort, patience, and strength of spirit with which he faces the convalescence path make you feel close to him.
Finally, the difficult relationship with his daughter, which leads him - he who never had a moment for himself - to undertake a two-month journey on the Camino de Santiago with only the company of the dog, the only friend willing to follow him, a house dog that at the beginning of the film he didn't even know.
A delicate and ingenious film.
A small film, but built in the best way a small film can be built.
A gem.
The director, Mimran, doesn't have much behind him; for example, I had never heard his name.
The protagonist is Fabrice Luchini. A big name in France, they somewhat consider him one of their flags, and there's a reason.
He has done theater, a lot of theater, and takes away merits and contents from it.
The film is entirely centered on him, and the scenes where he's not framed are few.
Nonetheless, he doesn't act as a showman, he maintains a low profile that inevitably makes him endearing.
Excellent selection of period music used as the soundtrack, all significant and not placed there by chance.
The end credits are fantastic.
I won't say anything. But pay attention to the end credits, please.
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