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AVENUE MONTAIGNE
Directed by: Danièle Thompson.
Produced by: Christine Gozlan. Written by: Thompson & Christopher Thompson.
Director of photography: Jean-Marc Fabre.
Edited by: Sylvie Landra.
Music by: Nicola Piovani.
Released by: THINKFilm.
Language: French with English subtitles.
Country of Origin: France. 100 min. Rated PG-13.
With: Cécile de France, Valérie Lemercier, Claude Brasseur, Albert Dupontel, Laura Morante, Sydney Pollack, Christopher Thompson & Dani.

This French trifle stands out after a diet of French imports that were gritty (Le Petit Lieutenant), dreary (Gabrielle), or outright depressing (Time to Leave). Director Danièle Thompson piles on enough pop culture references to please any Francophile in this love letter to Paris, so it wouldn’t hurt to know Charles Aznavour from Gilbert Bécaud. But this fairy tale could take place in any big city where a wide-eyed gamine from the sticks can start over, find romance, and camaraderie among the rich and famous. Part of the film’s appeal is that there are no barriers between celebrities and the public. Anyone can enter the inner sanctum of a concert pianist’s dressing room or have a quick bite with a soap opera star. With the Eiffel Tower often hovering in the background, this fantasy of life in a gilded bubble will beguile viewers. But like an unobtrusive fan, it may not linger in the memory afterwards.

Jessica's guardian and grandmother wanted a life of luxury, so she worked at the Ritz. Getting over a broken heart, Jessica (Cécile de France) heeds her advice and treks to the eponymous elegant avenue. Without much persuading, Jessica becomes the first female waiter at the Bar des Theatre, where all walks of life intersect. Everyone can afford the prices there, so says her boss, who at first treats his new chatty and credulous employee with terseness but eventually mellows out, giving into the film’s openhearted vibe.

Through her delivery errands, Jessica becomes privy to a dying art collector and his distant son; Jean-François (Albert Dupontel), the hunky, sad-eyed pianist on the verge of a nervous breakdown; and actress Catherine Versen (Valérie Lemercier), who dreams of leaving the grind of television for the film role of Simone de Beauvoir to be directed by star director Brian Sobinski (played by star director Sydney Pollack). At the Comédie des Champs-Élysées Theater, near the bar, she’s staring in a Feydeau farce. In the movie’s most humorously insightful scene, Catherine insists on analyzing her character’s every line, despite her director’s reminder that nothing is psychological in Feydeau. The rehearsal’s like a class in the Actors Studio of Hell.

The milieu may be narcissistic, but never mean-spirited. Men do sit around discussing love, but the only mention of Jean-Paul Sartre deals with his sex life (apparently he was a lousy lay), and not his philosophy. The tone shifts wildly from Jean-Francois’ tortured angst to Catherine’s rubbery double-takes during a disastrous dinner with the director, but the genteel atmosphere is never threatened. How one responds to the film overall depends on how receptive one is to Jessica’s unremitting optimism. Don’t expect to see any scowling and dismissive Parisians here.

The casting of Suzanne Flon as Jessica’s grandmother is an indication of the film’s sentiment. Flon was Edith Piaf’s personal secretary, worked on stage with Jean Anouilh, and had a nearly 60-year career in film. She died in 2005. This film, her last, is dedicated to her. Kent Turner
February 16, 2007