Because it was him.
Because it was me.
Mathieu owes everything to Vincent.
The latter saved his life, offered him a position in his town planning agency, and pushed him to settle on the Côte d'Azur.
Their wives get along wonderfully.
Dinners, rounds of golf, boat trips, life is good.
There is a problem: Vincent (Guillaume Canet) is having an affair.
His friend Mathieu (Yvan Attal) can't stand that.
The situation plunges him into impossible agonies.
We see that some people keep their principles.
This is reassuring in an era where values are being lost.
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Lack of suspense
All this is not very credible, but it comes from a good feeling.
Vaudeville will become complicated with the death of the mistress.
We then plunge into a plot sewn with white thread, with a very clumsy and invasive voice-over, emphasizing the distress and lucidity of the hero.
Attal is sweating and drinking whiskey.
Canet suffers his
midlife crisis
.
Maïwenn slaps her rival.
Marie-Josée Croze remains straight in her boots (another scotch, my love?).
Is it because all this is happening with the promoters?
The dialogues are made of reinforced concrete.
“
The woman I love is dead.
Cold.
Autopsied.
Dead.
» It looks like Duras.
The clichés rain in, despite the Mediterranean climate.
Loss of cell phone, cocktails on billionaires' yachts (Indians, the billionaires), providential car accidents, the screenwriters do not skimp.
Despite music by Bernard Herrmann, Alfred Hitchcock's favorite composer, the region definitely does not succeed in French thrillers.
The painful memory of
Visions,
by Yann Gozlan, still weighs on memories.
If the suspense here is quite weak, there remains a mystery: where has the light and resourceful filmmaker of
My Wife is an Actress
gone ?
Yvan Attal refused to show his film to critics.
He wasn't wrong.
It's the only good idea he had in this whole story.
Quoting Mallarmé more or less, on the other hand, constitutes a hell of a blunder.
The temptation is too great to paraphrase the poet: a throw of the dice will never abolish nanar.