‘A Private Life’ Review: A Delightfully Paired Jodie Foster and Daniel Auteuil Escape Injury in a Messy but Pleasurable Genre Collision

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Balancing out complex humor and light-hearted silliness, blending Hitchcockian suspense with playful detective escapades, the film A Private Life (Vie Privée) is surprisingly entertaining despite perhaps not fully earning it. The charismatic chemistry of its veteran actors, Jodie Foster and Daniel Auteuil, is largely responsible for this. Rebecca Zlotowski’s newest creation lacks the captivating, sun-drenched sensuality found in her previous films, An Easy Girl and Other People’s Children. Instead, it veers too wildly across the spectrum of tones to allow for such nuances. However, it does embody Zlotowski’s signature delicate approach, offering a chaotic yet appealing experience.

In her first French-language feature film since 2004’s “A Very Long Engagement,” Audrey Tautou’s delivery is flawless, according to some listeners. The film benefits significantly from her spirited energy and surprising levity, which are skillfully complemented by Zlotowski’s dynamic directing style.

Since 2004, Audrey Tautou hasn’t acted in a French movie until now, but she speaks it beautifully here. Her lively performance and unexpected fun-loving attitude contribute to the movie’s success, and they work well with Zlotowski’s energetic direction.

Dr. Lilian Steiner, the character, is an American psychoanalyst who operates from her home office in Paris. Upon initial observation, she appears to fit the typical Foster mold – highly intelligent, composed, disciplined, somewhat reserved. However, as Lilian begins to reveal more layers, she transforms into a spontaneous, irrational, emotional, and at times uncertain professional, bordering on being a bit flighty.

After delivering an outstanding performance as the tormented yet focused police chief in “True Detective: Night Country,” it’s delightful to see Foster embrace a lighter role, showcasing comedic skills that have been underutilized in her American projects of late.

Experiencing her perform in another language, being a foreigner who’s lived there long enough to pick up local nuances yet retaining unique differences, is quite intriguing. And when Lilian momentarily loses her cool and lets slip an English curse word like “motherfucker” or other expletives during such moments, it makes her feel more relatable, suggesting she’s not always perfect and doesn’t have all the solutions.

The script, jointly penned by Anne Berest and Zlotowski, immediately presents unexpected challenges to Lilian’s work, sowing seeds of uncertainty. It is later revealed that the reason for Paula (Virginie Efira), a long-term patient, missing her last three appointments without cancellation, was her tragic suicide.

She’s currently pondering over the news, wondering why she missed any warning signs, when suddenly an upset patient (Noam Morgensztern) barges in. He accuses Lilian of wasting his time and money during their numerous sessions to quit smoking, but he managed to break the habit after only one visit to a hypnotist, leaving cigarettes and Lilian behind.

Or, in a more conversational tone:

She’s been mulling over the news, puzzling why she didn’t notice any warning signs, when out of nowhere an irate patient (Noam Morgensztern) storms into her office. He accuses Lilian of wasting his time and money during their multiple attempts to quit smoking, but he kicked the habit after a single visit to a hypnotist, no longer needing cigarettes or Lilian’s help.

In simpler terms, Lilian visited Paula’s home during the shiva period when family and friends were mourning. Simon, the grieving widower (Mathieu Amalric), angrily instructed her to depart, as he believed she should have known something was amiss after all their years of friendship. Later, he blamed Lilian for excessively prescribing antidepressants, suggesting they might have contributed to Paula’s fatal overdose.

In the meantime, Lilian, who has never managed to cry, suddenly finds herself unable to stop crying, often without realizing it. She turns to her former husband Gabriel, an ophthalmologist, for advice. When he sees her cry for the first time, his dry response is, “It suits you.” Interestingly, Lilian appears to have a better relationship with Gabriel, whom she calls Gaby, than with their adult son Julien. This emotional barrier also seems to extend to her grandson.

As a fervent admirer, I can’t help but express my thoughts on Zlotowski’s humorous montage depicting patients discussing their everyday concerns. Meanwhile, poor Lilian, finding herself in an awkward predicament due to her uncharacteristic emotional outburst, resorts to dabbing at her face repeatedly with tissues to manage the nearly constant flow of tears.

The movie briefly delves into a Freudian subplot, where Lilian seeks help from a hypnotist (Sophie Guillemin) to address her tear duct issue. This hypnotist suggests that she’s grieving and persuades the doubtful psychiatrist to revisit her mother’s womb. In a surprising turn of events, the hypnotist then leads Lilian through an expansive red realm in another dimension filled with doors and staircases.

Or:

In a brief Freudian excursion that some might argue is the movie’s weakest integrated scene, Lilian visits a hypnotist (Sophie Guillemin) to solve her tear duct problem. This hypnotist convinces her she’s mourning and manages to get the skeptical psychiatrist to reconsider their time in the womb. Suddenly, this hypnotist begins guiding Lilian through a massive red space in another dimension with doors and stairways.

Both options aim to make the original sentence easier to understand while maintaining its essence and flow.

In a state of hypnosis, Lilian finds herself at a concert hall where she and Paula play as cellists in an orchestra during the early 1940s under German occupation; Julian is one of the Nazi soldiers in attendance while Simon wields his baton like a gun. This scenario resembles a somewhat eccentric interpretation of Truffaut’s The Last Metro, offering an amusing twist but lacking the depth necessary to hold much significance beyond the hypnotist’s claim that Lilian and Paula were former lovers in another life. It’s quite reminiscent of Shirley MacLaine’s brand of mysticism.

While it may not be explicitly stated, this action seems to bring an end to her tears, alleviate Lilian’s distaste for antisemitism, and perhaps subtly suggest reasons as to why she could never connect emotionally with Julian. However, these points are not directly expressed or explained in detail.

In simpler terms, the movie takes place in a more relatable setting – the real world. A visit from Lilian’s granddaughter Valérie (played by Luàna Bajrami), who is pregnant, causes Lilian to suspect that her patient was murdered, possibly by either her daughter or husband. To investigate this suspicion, Lilian asks Gaby, a friendly individual, for assistance in following them. Meanwhile, she also listens to her recorded sessions with Paula, looking for any clues.

The main thread of this bizarre mystery remains thin and insubstantial, despite numerous elements being introduced. A break-in at Lilian’s apartment results in the theft of an audio file from Paula’s final session, raising questions about an inheritance from a wealthy relative (screen legend Aurore Clément, possibly a reference to Louis Malle’s Lacombe, Lucien). Simon, who retrieved Paula’s medication from the pharmacy, may have tampered with it. Furthermore, he seems to be hiding a double life, involving another woman and a child in Chérence, outside Paris.

The story’s conclusion, while somewhat understated, primarily focuses on Lilian improving her listening skills and being a more understanding mother. However, the thin plot takes a back seat to the electrifying chemistry between Foster and Auteuil that ignites each scene. In these moments, Lilian is portrayed as tense and Gaby as calm. They engage in witty banter effortlessly, adding depth to the film, and their glances suggest a deep-rooted affection and unquenched passion despite their divorce.

In a genre-mixing movie like “A Private Life“, the parts that resemble a romantic comedy provide the fun, despite some sections appearing disjointed. The film moves swiftly, with its rhythm often punctuated by lively beats courtesy of the whimsical music by composer Rob. It has a polished, attractive appearance reminiscent of French films from past decades, seeming sophisticated yet accessible, highbrow yet commercial, and even art-house at times. However, there’s a certain charm in its nostalgic feel, enhanced by an unexpected pairing of Foster and Auteuil as the leads in a middle-aged romantic comedy.

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2025-05-23 02:55