QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM CANNES
Cécile is pregnant. Everything points to that. The only problem is that she’s against having children, and fears telling her partner Sofiane. Worse, Cécile discovers that her father has suffered his third heart attack; “A record,” her mother sneers. Returning to the town she abandoned for Paris, Cécile sets her emotions to pop tunes, although the presence of teenage paramour Raphaël complicates things, as well as the tempo of her songs.
Musicals regularly struggle to sell the authenticity of their songs, which is why it’s particularly clever that director/co-writer Amélie Bonnin, like Rob Marshall did with Chicago (2002), uses these interludes as a reflection of the protagonist’s psyche. Characters use the pop grooves to express their inner truths: A midwife informs/teases Cécile of her growth as a person since primary school, while the central character’s mother divulges her plans to travel the Italian countryside. Everyone uses their composition for functional purposes, moving the narrative along as they do.
Leave One Day packs a lot into the story: themes of adultery, shame, parental misgivings and lost love abound, but never at the expense of the gags. Bonnin’s work has a difficult undercurrent, but it remains a comedy at its core. Cécile’s father quickly discerns that his child is pregnant, sensing her nausea and desire to snack on sugary treats. He worked as a chef for decades, and no matter what the doctors say, is determined to keep his business running. Raphaël seems as debonair as ever, although he too harbours secrets that risk the sanctity of his friendship.Meanwhile, the hormones seem to be driving the lead heroine crazy – and all from a foetus she will likely abort.
Bonnin sets the tone from the beginning, as two people dance to the sound of Stromae’s infectious ‘Alors En Danse.’ Some of the dance scenes are ambigious, and leave it open to the audience to determine their true meaning, but each stem from Cécile’s life experience. Teased by villagers for taking a more ostentatious opinion on cooking, the woman is struck by a pool of men reciting her conflicted opinions of the town. Having absconded to Paris, Cécile seemingly took a stab at a more metropolitan lifestyle, but the voices, or songs if you will, suggest to her that her hometown holds a greater draw than the superficial trappings found in a Michelin restaurant.
Cécile’s father lacks her lofty interests, content to prepare pasta, sausages and the occasional side of fries. In one angry outburst, child and parent shout at one another,positing their opinions on culinary pleasures, family matters and general philosophies on the kitchen table. At the close of this taut but spellbinding scene comes the love of two estranged people with a shared history, not forgetting their love of food.
Leave One Day could work without the music, but the compositions add another frisson to the work; the central people reveal their truths through singing. Heightened by her imagination, Cécile pictures herself skating on the ice rink she frequented as an adolescent. Juliette Armanet, who portrays the pregnant lady, is nimble enough on her feet, giving the scene another dimension of choreography and care-free abandon.
That it can juggle such lightness against a story about a dying parent and a potential fetal termination is testament to the ensemble’s shared efforts. Sofiane, the boyfriend seemingly ignorant of the situation, enjoys many of the movie’s wittier moments. Keen to talk like an adult, he waits for a cue from an acoustic guitar, before the riff stops and reality comes clattering down. Sometimes it’s best to let the silence do the heavy-lifting, even in a musical of this laudatory stature.
Leave One Day just opened the 78th edition of the Festival de Cannes
