Producer: Frédéric Jouve Director: Rebecca Zlotowski Screenplay: Anne Berest, Rebecca Zlotowski and Gaëlle Macé Cast: Jodie Foster, Daniel Auteuil, Virginia Efira, Mathieu Amalric, Vincent Lacoste, Luàna Bajrami, Noam Morgensztern, Sophie Guillemin, Frederick Wiseman, Aurore Clément, Irène Jacob and Ji-Min Park Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
Grade: B-
Rebecca Zlotowski’s film is purportedly a mystery, but on those terms it’s rather anemic. “A Private Life” works better, however, as a character study and a frisky romantic comedy, particularly since its lead performers have a wonderful chemistry.
The distaff half of the couple is Lilian Steiner (Jodie Foster), a cold-hearted Parisian psychologist who records her patients rather than listening to them while they pour out their phobias. One day she’s accosted by one of them, Pierre (Noam Morgensztern), whom she’s been treating for years; he claims that despite all his expenses, she’s failed to get him to stop smoking, but that a hypnotherapist named Jessica (Sophie Guillemin) has succeeded in a single session. He intends to sue to recover his payments.
Even worse, another long-term patient, Valérie Cohen-Solat (Luana Bajrami) has died, an apparent suicide, and though her daughter Paula (Virginie Efita) invites Lilian to the shemira, the dead woman’s husband Simon (Mathieu Amalric) throws her out, blaming her for his wife’s death.
It’s no wonder Lilian begins to experience eye trouble: she can’t stop crying. She consults with a former mentor (documentarian Frederick Wiseman in an avuncular cameo), but it’s her ex-husband Gabriel (Daniel Auteuil), an ophthalmologist, whom she comes to depend on. Gabriel becomes her partner when, after a burglary of her office and a visit to Jessica during which she experiences a strange vision of herself and Valérie as lovers (and colleagues in a symphony orchestra where Simon is the conductor) in what appears to be Nazi-occupied France, she becomes convinced that Valérie was murdered, either by Sophie or Simon. The recent death of Valérie’s wealthy aunt (Aurore Clément), she suspects, may have played a part in the murder. As they work together Lilian and Gabriel rekindle their feelings for one another.
Meanwhile Lilian is forced to confront her estrangement from her son Julien (Vincent Lacoste), whose wife (Ji-Min Park) and newborn son she keeps at an emotional distance. For some reason Julien appeared as a German officer in the vision Lilian had in Jessica’s office.
The mystery elements of “A Private Life” are rather sloppy—an episode in which Lilian and Gabriel track Simon to his country house in the rain and attempt to recover a file she believes he’s stolen from her office is especially weak, with the intrusion of the young son of Simon’s mistress during Lilian’s search of a den coming off as simply weird. The whole business of the vision Lilian has as the result of Jessica’s hypnosis, in fact, is more peculiar than enlightening. And when answers are provided in the end, they prove distinctly unsatisfying.
Yet the film is modestly enjoyable because of the rapport between Foster, who embodies Lilian’s initial sternness and gradual mellowing with the skill you’d expect of her, and Auteuil, whose loose-limbed geniality proves a perfect counterpoint. Their scenes together are delicious. The rest of the cast are fine, but even Amalric is given little chance to shine, though Bajrami is certainly lovely in her few moments on screen.
“A Private Life” is quite attractive to look at in other ways as well, with a fine production design by Katia Wyszkop and costumes by Bénédicte Mouret, set off by George Lechaptois’ cinematography. Generally smooth editing by Géraldine Mangenot and a bouncy score by Rob complete the package.
The result doesn’t have the underlying heft of Zlotowski’s earlier film “Les Enfants des autres” (2022); it’s more like “Coup de Chance” (2023), Woody Allen’s French language picture, in which the mystery similarly played second fiddle to the charm. But approached in the right spirit, it can provide a pleasant time, even if the pleasure proves ephemeral.